if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

For three years, she ignored the way she clung to updates about him from her brother, every little piece of his life he didn’t share with her in the course of a hookup. She disregarded the tightening in her chest and the fluttering in her stomach when they were together, noticing that he never stopped noticing her, anticipating her desires and giving them to her without her having to ask. And she refused to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t only about sex — not for her, and maybe not for him either.And that’s, of course, how she ended up here: huddled over a cauldron in the bathroom of her tiny flat, trying to work up the courage to prick her finger and pinch a drop of blood into the potion.