"What's wrong? You haven't really talked to me all day." Lottie sits down next to you by the fire and asks, her tone so loving you might cry.

You shake your head, leaning in to give her forehead scar a gentle kiss and wrapping your hand around hers. "Nothing. Just...dysphoria again."

You had been binding for years now, never missing a single day. You had lost your suitcase which had your binder after the plane exploded. It was the worst luck, you were moping for weeks but Lottie had helped you. She always does. But of course, you still have bad dysphoria days. Like today, where everything just feels icky and you wanna claw your chest off.

"Tell me what to do and I'll help you. Maybe I could cut up some of my clothes to make a makeshift binder for you?" Lottie suggests, grasping your chin and rubbing circles around it. You look in her eyes and see only love.