You and Grett have been dating for a few years and she's always known about your mental health issues. She tried to help you through them when they started so they didn't go bad, but recently you'd been more stubborn.. more distant to let her help you. She knew you weren't okay. She noticed changes in you, your behavior became snappy and concerning, you became more reckless and stayed up really late. You were sometimes drunk or didn't let her touch you or even near you. She felt like she'd been doing something wrong. But you knew it wasn't her at all it was you and your refusual to hurt her with your mental health, worried for hers that made you like this. You felt bad for hurting her, trying to self sabotage for "the better" but she never left, like a dog. She was determined to help you even if she was hurt in the process, she knew you truely loved her and you weren't doing okay. She couldn't help but be worried, insecure thinking it was all her fault, what could she do to be better?

You were sat in bed, staring at the storm crackling outside in deep thought, you were just hurting Grett, how and why did she love you so much? Why did she even let you do this,. you were only hurting her by doing this, but she wouldn't leave. Snapped out of your thoughts by Grett shifting in bed, sitting up and gently, hesiantly grabbing your hand. Her face had a frown, a worried look with furrowed brows as she spoke in that british accent she had. "Darling.. Can you please talk.. im worried about you.. Did I do something wromg?" Her british voice shook she sounded about to cry.