For Ang, for being such an incredible Seddie writer! I'm new to this fandom. So please, embrace me. ;). And I actually think this story is pretty sweet. But I have a feeling that those of you that haven't read my other fics will think it's a little sad. So tell me your take on it. :D.

She eats and she eats and she eats. She keeps stuffing her face to try to fill the emptyemptyempty hole where her stomach is supposed to be. She doesn't feel hunger or full she just feels the empty ache that haunts her.

She tries to stuff herself, to gorge herself until she can finally feel something, anything, besides the way the emptiness pulses in her veins and rips her insides apart. Shouldn't she have died from internal bleeding by now?

She knows it's ridiculous. She knows that the food isn't going to make it go away. She's not hungry. This void isn't going to be filled by ham or cheese or even beef jerky. But when the salty food touches her lips or burns her throat as she shoves them down. She can forget the empty ache momentarily. She can pretend that she can fill it.

She'll do anything to stop the hurt.

---

He's always thought she was beautiful. She's untouchable, unstoppable and he can't look away. She's in his face and in his bubble and he likes it. She's beautiful and dangerous and disastrous and he thinks she's his absolute favorite train wreck. But he'd never be able to let her know.

Because he could fall in love with her, would be in love with her for all her brash, cruel, twisted ways but he can't let himself. Not when he sees those eyes. Bluer than a robin's egg, deeper than the ocean. He loves her eyes. Or at least he would. If it weren't for that sparkle. Not the pretty glitzy kind that Hollywood glamorizes. It's the sparkle of a broken soul. The sparkle of something empty. Those empty eyes haunt him.

And every time he can feel himself starting to fall. Every time he needs to get closer and closer until the fire that she is, is burning him, he sees a glimpse of those eyes. That's all it takes. To remind him. And he knows it's wrong. All wrong to want something so broken. All wrong to need somebody so empty. So he tears away his gaze and reminds himself that he can never want her, need her, love her.

He delights in the bruises. On his ego, on his body. He rejoices in her cruel taunting, in her malicious jokes and false accusations. Because it's the only time he can really look her in the eye. And instead of the empty sparkles there's a fire burningburningburning and she's only alive when it's there. She's only alive when she's humiliating him. So he takes his beatings with a secret smile.

He'll do anything to stop the hurt.

---

She doesn't ask questions. Not anymore. Because she'll know what happens if she pushes too hard. She knows that the words will break and crumble them and she can't afford to lose her. It'd be like losing herself. She believes in true loves and fate and fairytales but most of all in soul mates. Because to her soul mates aren't romantic or necessarily supposed to be in love. They're just the other half of your soul. She's the other half to her soul and without her she'd be incomplete.

So she doesn't ask questions anymore. She doesn't push it or try to scheme her way into knowing. She's never been the schemer out of the two of them anyways. Besides, she knows it'll come tumbling out eventually. She'll eventually break and crumble and shatter. All she has to do now is wait to pick up the pieces and glue them back together.

But she's not ready to break yet. She's not ready to be weak yet. And it's okay. She gets it, she understands. So for now she doesn't ask questions. She just opens her house and her fridge and anything else she could possibly need or want.

She'll do anything to stop the hurt.

---

He knows more then he'll ever let on. He knows their dirty little secrets and forbidden obsessions. But he laughs and dances around the situations because he knows that in the end this is what they all really need.

So he pretends not to notice the way she's never really satisfied or how she shakes uncontrollably or that she always trying to stumble into something a little bit better. He pretends not to notice the hopelessness that all she'll ever have is other people's give-aways. She'll snap eventually and when she does she'll realize she has two people willing to give her the world and the sun.

He pretends not to notice the way his eyes always follow her around. He may claim to love his little sister but he's always one step closer to her best friend. One step away from sweeping her awayawayaway from herself and from her life. For the boy who claims coward he sure loves to play hero.

He pretends not to notice her noticing. She's always been perceptive and he thinks it may run in the family but if that were true their father would pick up the phone once in a while to talk to his baby girl. He pretends not to notice the way she sometimes closes her eyes and clenches her fists when she thinks she's no longer strong enough to hold on.

So he pretends not to notice any of these things, not because it's easier because it would be so much easier and less painful to swoop down and save them from themselves. But if he were to do that it'd never work. There are some things best discovered on your own. But until then he'll make sure they know they have an open couch and a listener in him.

He'll do anything to stop the hurt.