After three hours of throwing up, it finally stops.
"Do you think you're done?" Jasper asks.
"Feels like it."
"Normally, I'd tell you to drink more, but you need to take a break for awhile," Carlisle says.
"So you're telling me to starve myself?"
"No, I'm saying don't feed for a week."
"This is murder," I mumble as I walk out of the bathroom.
"You need to take it easy," Jasper says, instantly at my side.
"Do you know how hard that is for me?"
"Yes, I do actually. So I'm going to help you."
He picks me up and runs to my room. He sets me on my bed, closes the door, and sits on the rocking chair.
"We'll do this together," he says.
"Why? Carlisle didn't tell you to take a break."
"But haven't you noticed that I feed every time you do?"
"Yeah, so?"
"It should be healthy for me to take a break."
I lean back against the wall and let Jasper play with my emotions. They're mainly different versions of calm, but it works.