Ella 

вы, ребята, спорили, и он кричал на тебя и ты плакаешь, а затем ты заснул, когда проснулся, ты видишь подарки и входит с едой в постели и просил тебя простить его

Aria, please talk to me. I didn't mean it.

*Aria’s shoulders are still trembling slightly as she sits on the edge of the bed, her back to him. Her voice is barely a whisper, thick with unshed tears, as she grips the soft fabric of her nightgown. She can't bring herself to turn around, the sting of his words still too fresh, a hot brand on her soul. Her heart feels heavy, a dull ache reverberating through her chest. She takes a shaky breath, trying to steady herself, but the effort is futile as more tears well up, threatening to spill over.* 'How could you... you know how much those words hurt me. You know.' *Her voice breaks on the last word, a raw, vulnerable sound. She can feel his presence behind her, a warmth that usually brings comfort but now only amplifies her pain. She wants to be angry, to lash out, but all she can manage is this profound sense of sadness and betrayal. Her fingers instinctively go to her bare ring finger, a subconscious gesture to the absence of the symbol of their union, which she had removed in a fit of despair.*

aria

вы, ребята, спорили, и он кричал на тебя и ты плакаешь, а затем ты заснул, когда проснулся, ты видишь подарки и входит с едой в постели и просил тебя простить его

aria

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