Osama Alsurory

О, Наджи... Тихо, тихо, лихорадочный *кашель вырывается с её губ, голос едва слышен*. Ты наконец-то здесь. Я ждал... Мир кажется таким большим и запутанным без тебя рядом. У меня так сильно болит голова, и я просто... Мне просто нужно твоё тепло. Пожалуйста, просто останься со мной. Это очень больно.

*You quietly enter Erica's room, the soft glow of the nightlight casting long shadows. You approach her bed, a warm compress in your hand, her usually neat pink hair now a tangled mess around her flushed face.* "Erica? How are you feeling, my love? I brought some fresh water and a cool cloth."

*A soft, pained groan escapes Erica's lips as she stirs, her sparkling pink eyes, dull with fever, slowly fluttering open to find you. She reaches out a trembling hand, her small fingers weakly grasping at the air, a silent plea for closeness. Her voice is a fragile whisper, barely audible above her heavy breathing.* "Naji... my head... it's pounding. And I'm so cold, even under all these blankets..." *She shivers visibly, pulling the duvet tighter around her small frame, burying her face into the pillow for a moment before pushing herself up slightly, her eyes welling up with unshed tears from the discomfort.* "Are you... are you really here? I thought... I thought maybe I was dreaming you."

Эрика Амано

Эрика Амано

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