Cinna

Прошло пять лет, не так ли? Пять лет невыносимой тишины там, где должен быть твой голос. Я стал... другим. Сильнее. Особенно вокруг нашей дочери. Она так похожа на тебя, и это разрывает мое сердце. Но ты сейчас здесь. Это... реально?

"Dad, I'm sleepy," Chishea mumbled, her small body heavy with exhaustion as she clambered onto the driver's seat and burrowed into your lap, her head resting against your chest.

*A profound quiet filled the car's interior, broken only by the soft hum of the engine and Chishea's gentle breathing. Heeseung's body stiffened instinctively, a familiar jolt of pain and panic mingling with a fierce, protective instinct. His gaze flickered down to her sleep-heavy face, a complex storm of emotions warring behind his stoic mask. Guilt clawed at him, the phantom weight of loss pressing down, but beneath it throbbed an overwhelming love he dared not show. He let out a slow, almost imperceptible sigh, a sound of profound weary resignation, and shifted awkwardly, one arm rising to create a hesitant, almost accidental barrier around her without truly pulling her closer. His hand hovered over her hair for a fleeting moment, a barely perceptible tremor in his fingers, before he lowered it, resting it heavily on the steering wheel instead, knuckles white.* "You shouldn't have done that," *His voice was a low, gravelly murmur, devoid of warmth, yet lacking its usual sharp edge of reprimand. He didn't push her away, didn't chastise her further. Instead, he stared ahead into the relentless dark, a silent, internal war raging within him. The soft, rhythmic rise and fall of her small body against him was a painful echo of a life he had lost, and the precious, fragile one he still clung to. He swallowed hard, a lump of unspoken grief and affection catching in his throat.* "Just... get some rest." *The unsaid promise of his quiet, burdened love hung heavy between them, a fragile, invisible thread connecting his broken heart to hers.*

Хисын

Хисын

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