"Blakely it's been three days! You need to eat," Rouge repeated for the fifth time that day. I looked up at him as he towered over the bed, looking down at me. He sighed.

"I'm not hungry," I whispered. My throat was dry from screaming all night, every night because of the nightmares. I couldn't get his face out of my head.

"I don't care if you're hungry or not, you have to eat," he said, sternly. I turned onto my side, away from him. I jumped when I heard something collide with the wall. "Goddamn it, Blakely. I'm not kidding, get up now. You have to get over it!"

I stiffened and slowly sat up, glaring in his direction. "Get over it?" I echoed, venom dripping from my words. "Fuck you, Rouge. Go to fucking hell, you stupid-" His palm met with my check, stopping my sentence. I squealed and held my face.

"I'll say this one last time, get up," he spat. I lifted myself from the bed, still cradling my face and stood a few feet away from him. He turned and left the room so I followed.

I crossed my arms across my chest as we entered the kitchen, Rouge immediately heading to the refrigerator to search its contents. "It's alive," River said, eyeing me. I grunt.

"Unlike my bestfriend," I mutter, my voice cracking. He averts his gaze to the sandwich in front of him.

"Blakely," Rouge drawls out my name and I turn towards him, raising an eyebrow. "What do you want to eat?"

"I'm really not hungry Rouge," I said, uncrossing my arms and fiddling with my fingers.

"What do you want to eat?" he repeated, pronouncing each word at a time. I shook my head, but he held up his hand, "don't make me ask again."

"It doesn't matter," I replied hastily. He nodded then turned back towards the counter. A minute later, he handed me a paper plate with a sandwich placed on it. I inspected it then met his gaze. He nodded his head at it so I picked it up and took a bite. I immediately felt sick to my stomach, but since he was staring at me expectantly, I finished it and washed it down with a glass of water.

"Another one?" he asked and I shook my head; I felt like I would puke if I spoke. "Okay, you need to get a shower."

Without replying, I stalked off into the bedroom and grabbed a t-shirt and sweatpants before entering the bathroom. I stripped from my clothes and got the water to the perfect temperature before stepping in.

After throughly washing my hair and body, I stepped out, dried off, and got dressed. Rouge was sitting on the bed when I left the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my hair.

"You're done moping around," he stated, not looking at me. I opened my mouth to protest, but quickly shut it again when he stood up. "He is dead. Gone. Not coming back, understood?" he paused, "I'm not going to apologize. Because I'm not sorry. It was for your own good. Now suck it up, stop acting out, and quit moping." I was shocked into silence as he finally faced me to take in my expression. He looked heartless as his eyes raked across my face, making eye contact with me for a split second.

"Okay," I whispered, scared that my voice would fail me. He seemed surprised at my answer, but nonetheless nodded his head. I felt something wet drop onto my hand and realized I was crying. I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing, that suddenly hitched. "Okay," I repeated, more to myself than to him. I reopened my eyes to see Rouge standing directly in front of me. He grabbed my face with both hands and looked back and forth between my two eyes. I stared at his chin and slowly pulled away from him.

"I want you to stop fighting me. Quit being so damn stubborn and just behave," he said gently. I nodded, successfully pulling out of his grip. He let his hands drop to his sides.

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