Cinder hasn’t eaten in years, and it’s doing things to her. This is the excuse she gives Winter, at least, the reasoning for why she has to fucking go, has to roll straight of bed and go for a ten-mile run into the forest at midnight.
“I just need to find something to eat that isn’t you,” she pants over the resulting phone call, ignoring the sound of Winter’s increasingly frantic heartbeat that she can hear from here, the dread in her voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll never forgive myself if I hurt you.”
“... I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to drink from me —”
“No,” she says, a little too harsh, a little too cold. “That will kill you.”
Winter pauses, and when her voice comes back, she sounds — well, there’s something there that scares Cinder a little bit. She’s terrifying when she wants to be. “How long has it been since you ate last?”
“... Five years.”
“Since we started dating,” Winter finishes. Somehow, that’s what does it; Cinder stops running to curl up against the side of a tree and cry and cry, and Winter sits on the other side of the line and listens and says, “I know you don’t want to hurt me, I know, it’s okay —”
“It’s not,” she says — suddenly she’s choking on her own sobs, suddenly she’s breathless and furious and so, so weak — “God, it’s not, I haven’t figured anything out and it’s my own fault and —”
“I know. I’m not going to make you. But I need you here. Alright?”
There’s something hard and unyielding in her voice, and for a moment Cinder is forced to remember right, Winter loves me. “Alright,” she says. “I’m sorry I ran.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were starving.”
She allows herself a few more minutes of sobbing into the tree before she gets to her feet. Winter stays on the call and talks quietly to her until she makes it back home.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
momijizukamori![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
FILL: Team RWBY
Date: 2025-07-12 03:03 pm (UTC)fandom: RWBY
ship: winter/cinder
-
Cinder hasn’t eaten in years, and it’s doing things to her. This is the excuse she gives Winter, at least, the reasoning for why she has to fucking go, has to roll straight of bed and go for a ten-mile run into the forest at midnight.
“I just need to find something to eat that isn’t you,” she pants over the resulting phone call, ignoring the sound of Winter’s increasingly frantic heartbeat that she can hear from here, the dread in her voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll never forgive myself if I hurt you.”
“... I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to drink from me —”
“No,” she says, a little too harsh, a little too cold. “That will kill you.”
Winter pauses, and when her voice comes back, she sounds — well, there’s something there that scares Cinder a little bit. She’s terrifying when she wants to be. “How long has it been since you ate last?”
“... Five years.”
“Since we started dating,” Winter finishes. Somehow, that’s what does it; Cinder stops running to curl up against the side of a tree and cry and cry, and Winter sits on the other side of the line and listens and says, “I know you don’t want to hurt me, I know, it’s okay —”
“It’s not,” she says — suddenly she’s choking on her own sobs, suddenly she’s breathless and furious and so, so weak — “God, it’s not, I haven’t figured anything out and it’s my own fault and —”
“Cinder,” Winter says firmly, “come home. We’ll fix it.”
“I’m not going to —”
“I know. I’m not going to make you. But I need you here. Alright?”
There’s something hard and unyielding in her voice, and for a moment Cinder is forced to remember right, Winter loves me. “Alright,” she says. “I’m sorry I ran.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were starving.”
She allows herself a few more minutes of sobbing into the tree before she gets to her feet. Winter stays on the call and talks quietly to her until she makes it back home.