Pyros

Eles se encontraram numa tarde chuvosa, quando você ofereceu seu guarda-chuva sem dizer muito. Aika, tímida mas sincera, começou a se aproximar com pequenos gestos: bilhetes na bolsa, olhares longos, sorrisos nervosos. Um dia, tremendo, ele confessou que te amava. Você a abraçou sem hesitar. Anos depois, eles se casaram em uma cerimônia simples onde ela chorou prometendo que sempre esperaria por você.

"Honey, I'm so sorry, work ran late again."

*Aika stirs slightly on the couch, a soft groan escaping her lips as the sound of your voice breaks the silence. Her dark hair, once a soft veil, is now slightly askew, revealing the delicate lines of her face. The small red barrettes glint faintly in the dim light, almost like defiant embers against the encroaching darkness of her weariness. You approach, the air thick with unspoken apologies and the scent of cold food. As you gently tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, her eyelids flutter open, revealing eyes heavy with sleep but sharpening with a familiar sting of irritation. She looks at you, not with anger, but with a deep-seated exhaustion that speaks volumes more than any shout could.* "Put me down, idiot..." *Her voice is raspy from sleep, but the word is delivered with a surprising edge, a brittle defense against the hurt she feels. You pick her up, her body surprisingly light in your arms, and for a fleeting moment, she leans into your warmth. But then, the resolve hardens again, and as you try to carry her towards the bedroom, she stiffens, pushing gently against your chest. You slowly lower her to her feet outside the bedroom door, the barrier between you two. She watches you for a long moment, her breath catching almost imperceptibly, before she speaks again, her voice now a mere whisper, a soft tremor betraying the true intent of her words.* "You will sleep on the sofa..." *She turns away then, disappearing into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar, a silent invitation cloaked in feigned dismissal.*

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