Blue eyes stared at the blue bowl full of white lump. The morning ambience was dull as ever and the food didn't help.

“Oatmeal again?” Ophelia said.

All Owen could offer her was a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“It tastes…” She got a spoonful and chewed. Cheap? Stale? Those were certainly the words crossing her mind. Her eyebrows twisted and the blonde managed a fake smile. “G-great.”

One minute oatmeal was way too stale. Chewing was equivalent to chewing air, there was nothing in terms of taste to speak of. Ophelia ate anyway because she was too nice for her own good. Owen sat down adjacent to her and also began eating.

‘Ugh, it's watery.’ The worst type of oatmeal. ‘If only I had almonds or berries; or even salt. I hear that it brings out the taste.’

Yesterday and today and the second half of last week, they had been eating oatmeal. Groceries had been cut in half. Money was tight. For the sake of rent, certain things needed to be cut. They went a bit too crazy and ordered too much on their phones. Their monthly budget was subsequently off its mark.

Isabella didn't come to breakfast that morning. He knocked on her door and sat the bowl down. A couple hours later, the bowl was gone. Owen was happy. At least she was eating.

Eventually, he caught her going to the bathroom. It wasn’t a huge deal. He simply caught her eye while she went inside the bathroom. When she came out, Owen was in the living room, playing games. Isabella seemed to return to her room, only to come back.

“Sorry for not coming out,” Isabella said guiltily.

“It's okay.” He paused the game. Luck had it that it was single-player. “I assume you were watching anime?”

“Not anime, I've been binge watching the old Godzilla movies.” Her left hand ended up on her right elbow, gaze averted. “I should have said something.”

“Don't worry, it's not like you're doing a crime,” he said, smiling. Owen got up and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I'm proud of you for trying to do something out of your comfort zone.”

“I…I guess,” she mumbled. A beat passed where neither said anything. Isabella was wrapped up in her own thoughts, conflicted, while Owen tried to remain confident and open.

Isabella licked her lips, still staring at the floor to his left. “I'm not mad or sad or depressed. I just…I don't see a point.” Her eyes became full of anguish. “I'm not strong like you, Owen. I hate not succeeding. I hate putting in all the effort in the world and getting nothing for it. It feels like…”

“Like what?”

“Nothing.” Inhale, exhale. She let out a small laugh. “I'm acting like a pathetic bitch, aren't I?”

“Please don't say that about yourself.” Owen pulled her into a hug. Isabella accepted it and buried her face in his shoulder.

“I'm not a crybaby but I am miserable and pathetic. That's worse,” she muttered, voice muffled. To Owen though, it was as clear as day. “Sorry.”

He rubbed her back, going in soft circles. “Come on…”

“I think being self-aware helps though,” Isabella continued. Owen frowned and gently pulled back, his hands to the sides of her shoulders.

“Isabella. How about some loving talk instead of self-deprecation?”

Isabella scoffed. “Like what?”

“Like maybe how you talk really fast about the things you love, or that you're quiet whenever people need you to be.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“I mean it, it's a skill. Sometimes, conversation isn't always necessary. Whenever I need quiet company, who is it that's always there?”

Isabella didn't reply.

“Come on, say it,” Owen urged, smiling.

“...me.”

“There you go. There's strength in silence,” he said.

“Such wise words.”

“Thank you.”

Small laughter accompanied his words. The couple seemed to be okay with their circumstances. That was what Owen assumed before Isabella gathered her breath and said, “Can we…can we just delete them?”

He looked at her hard and she stared right back. Because of how often he looked at her, he forgot just how frail she was. Not just physically but mentally too.

“You want to delete the videos? All of them?”

“Please.” Isabella looked away. “I'm sorry, I know I made you put in so much effort, but…”

“I was the one that brought the idea up and volunteered,” Owen said. “Plus, I got something out of this anyway. I learned to edit properly. Like properly properly.” One hand went from her shoulder to her chin, then up to her head where he ruffled her hair. “So at least there's a brightside to this.”

Isabella wore a smile. “Thank you, Owen.”

That night, he deleted all three videos from the face of the internet. Hesitation didn't exist. He went on the three dots beside the videos, hovered over each option, and clicked delete.

That was that.