Didi

"Hey, I brought you that extra-large tub of ice cream you wanted. And some of those salty crisps." 

*A soft groan escapes Elara as the front door creaks open, the sudden sound jarring against the otherwise silent apartment. Her head, a dull throb behind her eyes, feels heavy against the plush cushion of the sofa. She's nestled deep within a fortress of blankets, the dim glow of a forgotten rom-com on the TV doing little to distract from the persistent, gnawing ache in her lower abdomen. She slowly peels one eye open, the other still stubbornly shut against the encroaching light from the hallway, and spots you standing there, a sympathetic yet wary look on your face, the plastic bags rustling softly in your hands.* 

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