Look to your left

When the episode ends, you turn left and see Hannah staring intensely at the “next episode will begin automatically” screen. It’s a nice view, your sister squeezing her thighs, chest heaving to the rhythm of her labored breathing. It’s also a worrying view, especially given the visible gleam of sweat on her face. You ask, “are you okay, Sis?” but the grip she has on herself only tightens in response.

Hannah’s head twitches in your direction for a second before she squeezes her eyes shut and turns the other way. “I’m– it’s fine, I just need to– ah!” She releases the vice grip from her thighs to put pressure on her head instead. “Could you see if we have a– aspirin or some– something?”

With a grunt of acknowledgement, you get up and hurry toward the shared bathroom to check the medicine cabinet. You find a bottle of ibuprofen– close enough– and palm two pills to return with. You stop by the kitchen to fill a glass of water for Hannah to swallow your payload with.

Holding the two items as low as you can for easy access, you approach your sister from behind. “Pills here!” you announce. She swivels around onto her knees and grabs the contents of your hands, but doesn’t take the pills right away. Instead her eyes seem to be caught on your thighs that stand just past your outstretched hands. Scrutinizing her face in preparation for a biting comment, you make a troubling observation. Her grimace and muscle tension have suddenly evaporated. Your sister isn’t in pain anymore.

Considering you seem to have cured your sister’s headache with your thighs, you can’t see a way the migraine and looking away from you earlier weren’t related. Your sister was in all that pain because she was trying so hard to respect your boundaries, despite her newly altered mind. The realization fills you with compassion for her. Thoughts leave your mouth barely louder than a whisper, “You really can’t control it, can you?”

Horror breaks on Hannah’s face. She drops her head to put down the glass and pills, and keeps it there. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Her voice heightens and picks up speed, trying to outrun sobs on the horizon. “Last night was a wake-up call, you were right to push me as much as you did. I told myself I would make sure our deal never comes up again, but then this morning I just– it was like there was this voice telling me I sorta kinda had permission, and I couldn’t help myself.” Her voice catches in her throat, but she manages to continue. “Fuck, I didn’t even last one whole day!” She can’t hold it back anymore, tears rush down from her face onto the cushion between you.

You place a comforting hand on her back. She looks up at you with running mascara. “I’m so sorry, Violet. You of all people shouldn’t have to deal with this. You deserve a better sister. I’ll– maybe I should confess all this to Liv, I dunno.”