>You hope you can get something from the market today, because you're just finishing the very last cereal you have.
>Golden Grahams.
>You don't even remember eating them, but they were almost completely gone when you found them.
>So if you can't find anything today, tomorrow's breakfast will be...
>No matter, you will find something.
>Now, to these Golden Grahams.
>It's like s'mores, without the melted marshmallow and chocolate.
>And add cold milk.
>Not very enjoyable.
>The initial taste is... okay, but the aftertaste is horrid.
>One last spoonful to go...
>You bite down on the last liquid-type breakfast you have in your house.
>You believe it'll all be okay.
>You have to find a way.
>To make it all okay.
>Until then, you slide the bowl of graham cracker milk to your moth-mate.
>Oh, here's the aftertaste.
>You wince and try to adjust your taste buds.
>Because that's absolutely possible.
>You let out a disgusted sigh.
>Maybe you should warn her...
"Hey, you might want to-"
>You're disrupted by the sound of the chair next to you wobbling.
>You look over to see what's up.
>Your moth-mate is shaking violently.
>Like, she's freaking out and has no control.
>LIKE NOW WOULD BE A GOOD TIME TO DO SOMETHING.
>UNLIKE LAST TIME.
>You aren't just going to sit idly by like you did when she was choking.
>You're going to do something.
>You get ready and...
>...
>What are you supposed to do?
>YOU AREN'T DOING ANYTHING.
>Your mind races as you try to figure out what to-
>SHE'S FALLING.
>AAAAAAA-
>You grab her by her torso and pull her in for a tight hug.
>Even if you can't do anything about her condition, you can still make sure no outside forces mess with her.
>Her shaking sends shivers down your spine, but you won't let her go.
>...
>A minute passes and she slowly calms down.
>The shaking stops.
>The only sound in the room is the sound of her tired breathing.
>You feel her move in your grasp.
>Careful not to move, you glance down to her.
 
>She's snuggled against your chest, much like she does when you sleep.
>Aw...
>How is she so cute?
>"A-Anon?"
>Her voice is shaking, like she's shivering.
>She sounds like she's cold.
>You have a moth who needs your attention.
>All other thoughts are now on hold.
"Yes?"
>She presses herself against you even more.
>"Th-thank you."
>She's been thanking you more recently.
>It's almost like she actually appreciated you.
>You feel something wet against your chest.
>She's sounds like she's sobbing...
>...
>She's crying in your embrace.
>She's crying.
>Maybe your brain is jumping to conclusions. You certainly can't see her crying. You just... feel it, and hear it, and...
>Her sobs increase in intensity.
>Whatever caused this must have been devastating...
>"Anon?"
>Her voice is now scratched beyond belief.
"Yes?"
>"... I-" She coughs for a few seconds, then continues. "I'm sorry..."
>What?
>What, even...
>"Th-the grahams..."
>... The Golden Grahams.
>Your confusion isn't going away any time soon.
>You just hold her close and allow her to speak.
>"They reminded me of... the cold..."
>The cold...
>"S-so c-cold..."
>Maybe that's why she bundles up when it's not even really cold out, she physically has low cold-tolerance.
"Wait..."
>You aren't letting this illogical point get through.
"How did the Golden Grahams trigger that?"
>She stays quiet for a bit.
>She isn't sobbing anymore, but you can still feel her tears.
>"One time, I was camping in the forest. I made a little fire for myself and was fixing some s'mores. Th-then, my fire went out, and it was so cold... I couldn't keep warm, so I just ran."
>The two of you sit there.
>"... I don't know how I survived. I... I can't remember."
>You can't even imagine what that must have been like.
>"Anon?"
>Her voice was soft, and gentle, and...
>Cute.
"Yes?"
>Third time that's happened today.
>"... Thank you..."
>The two of you sit there until she eventually falls asleep in your arms.