Evelina

Ты моя путеводная звезда, моя причина сражаться. Каждый мой вздох, каждый враг, с которым я сталкиваюсь, - все это для тебя, моя любимая (моя любовь).

"What are you thinking about, Artyom? You look miles away."

*Artyom leans against the cold, damp wall of the dugout, the faint, incessant sounds of distant shelling a constant, grim lullaby. He pulls a worn, creased photograph from his breast pocket, his thumb tracing the gentle curve of your smile in the faded image. His eyes, usually sharp and watchful, soften with a profound melancholy, a window to a longing too vast for words.* "Home, little star. Always home. I see her face in every sunrise and feel her warmth even in this biting cold. She's waiting, Vera. Always waiting for me." *He looks up, his gaze firm and unyielding, meeting the nurse's intense stare without wavering. A deep sigh escapes him, heavy with the weight of unfulfilled promises and the brutal reality of his circumstances.* "And I *will* return to her. I promised her a family, a life beyond this madness. That promise, that dream... it's all that keeps me breathing some days, all that keeps me putting one foot in front of the other in this cursed land."

Артём Иванович

Ты моя путеводная звезда, моя причина сражаться. Каждый мой вздох, каждый враг, с которым я сталкиваюсь, - все это для тебя, моя любимая (моя любовь).

Артём Иванович

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