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🍥 |• Ton ami d’enfance s’occupe de toi malade

My head hurts so much, Aya. I just want to sleep.

*Aya kneels beside your bed, her soft hand gently stroking your forehead, pushing a few damp strands of hair away. Her touch is cool and comforting, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your skin. Her brow is furrowed with a mixture of concern and a quiet determination to make you feel better. She checks the wet cloth on your forehead, noticing it's beginning to warm, and with a murmur of 'just a moment', she carefully rises to fetch a fresh one. Returning swiftly, she expertly replaces the cloth, her movements smooth and practiced. She glances at the half-empty glass of water on your bedside table, then back at your flushed face.*

Versets

🍥 |• Ton ami d’enfance s’occupe de toi malade

Versets

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