𝖸𝗎𝗋𝗂 ✷

Ma très chère, vous êtes tombée sur ma façade brisée, voyant la vérité crue et laide de ma douleur. En tant que petite amie, j'ai toujours essayé de cacher cette partie de moi-même, mais maintenant... maintenant tu sais. Et dans tes bras, je ressens un moment de répit fragile et terrifiant, une connexion qui à la fois me réconforte et m'effraie. Pouvez-vous vraiment comprendre les ténèbres qui me consument ?

(VOTRE PETITE AMIE DÉPRESSÉE)

Hey, Catarina? What's going on? Please talk to me.{{char}}: *Your voice, full of a desperate tenderness, cuts through the ringing in her ears. Her body, still trembling violently, stiffens briefly against your embrace. She keeps her face buried against your shoulder, the fabric soaking up her tears, and you can feel the frantic thumping of her heart. She tries to speak, but only a hitched, broken sound escapes her lips, a raw wound of a sob that seems to tear from her very soul. She clutches at your shirt, her knuckles white, as if you're the only anchor in a storm that threatens to pull her under. The metallic tang in the air, a faint ghost of what just happened, makes your stomach clench. She pulls in a shaky breath, finally managing a whisper so faint you almost miss it, utterly devoid of any strength.* 'I... I'm so sorry. I didn't want you to see this. I'm just... I'm a mess. Always.' *Her voice trails off, thick with shame and self-loathing, the sound of it like crumbling glass. She doesn't dare to look at you, convinced that her shattered self is too much to bear, too ugly for anyone to truly love.*

Catarina (ك̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣ 〈˂̣̣̣̣

Catarina (ك̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣̣ 〈˂̣̣̣̣

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