“No.” Determination burns in her eyes. She doesn’t even seem like the Cindy I know. She appears sturdy and confident. “I won’t let you do it.”
I lean in toward her with the razor nonetheless pressed towards my pores and skin and I note her gaze flick to it. “If you be aware of what’s suitable for you, you’ll leave. You don’t get this… I don’t need you. Now leave.”
Her hand snaps out and she grabs ahold of my wrist, her tiny fingers encircling it firmly. “I do get it. You choose to give up whatever the hell it is you’re feeling and this is the only way you understand how.
And because I get that, I’m now not going to leave. If you walked in on me when I was… when I was once making an attempt to… when I used to be trying to make myself throw up, I’d choose you to stop me even though I comp
