Touch you | Winrina

17

They reach their own weird milestone on a seemingly typical Friday night. Karina enters the house, her hands full of grocery bags, and Winter is the first thing she sees. Winter's smile is mischievous without being malicious, but Karina has lived long enough with her to be wary. Fond. But wary.

"Hey," she says cautiously, putting the bags on the counter.

"Hey," Winter replies. "I thought Sunday was grocery day." Her smile falls just slightly when she looks at the bags apprehensively, and Karina is even more confused.

"We eat more food now," she simply replies. It's only a second later that it occurs to her that the wording could have been better. But Winter doesn't take offense. Instead, she nods, in understanding.

It sends a confusing spark through Karina's chest.

Winter is still watching her when she goes to open the fridge, and she looks positively giddy. That only increases Karina's worry. She's half afraid something will pop out of the fridge when she opens the door. But surely Winter isn't this childish, is she? They are on relatively good terms now. Just sex, no hard feelings. Only the confusing ones that neither has time for.

Karina's mind is whirling trying to figure Winter out. She's not usually this on edge. But today has been an off day. She was late for school. Her practice was cut short. Grocery shop on a Friday is still something she's getting used to. And now, Winter is here, dressed in sweatpants instead of her usual robe, and the way she's behaving is unsettling.

Something is itching at the back of her brain, and it's – it isn't fun. It's putting her on edge.

She takes a deep breath and opens the door with more confidence that she's actually feeling. And stops short, widening her eyes.

There are three packs of her favorite yogurt. Three packs means twelve cups. Which means two times more than she usually gets. Her hand trembles, and she curls it in a fist.

"I drove to a farmers' market," Winter states behind her, and there is no trace of earlier smile in her voice. "I, um – I saw it and remembered you always get them somewhere, but I've never seen it in stores and the guy said he knows you. And, um... You look like you always want more when you finish a cup, and I decided to get more, and... You hate it," she finishes in a small voice.

"No," Karina reacts immediately, even though her fist tightens. "I don't hate it. Thank you, Winter," she says automatically.

And she doesn't hate it, not really. She never really hates anything, truth be told. It was very sweet of Winter. Very sweet. But the longer Karina looks in the fridge, the more unbearable the itching becomes.

In order for the yogurts to fit in, Winter had to rearrange other items. Some of Karina's food is now on shelves reserved for temporary step siblings. She put Karina's sweet peas next to ham and stacked plastic boxes against each other with complete disregard to their size.

She shouldn't care. It's not a big deal. It was very sweet of her. It was a nice gesture.

But today is an off day. A straw breaks the metaphorical horse's back and everything.

She doesn't realize her other hand is trembling, too, until Winter curls her fingers around it, gently prying it away from the door. She makes no move, and Winter carefully turns her to face her, still displaying that cautious gentleness.

"I'm sorry, Karina," she says, quietly. Her confusion is clear, but she isn't asking what's wrong. Her next question makes Karina blink. "Tell me how to fix this."