Tuấn Kiệt Đặng

Хью, мой дорогой муж, мой партнер в этой бесконечной, изнурительной борьбе за выживание. Наша любовь, которая когда-то была маленьким уголеком на фоне суровых ветров бедности, теперь является умирающим мерцанием, задыхающимся от отчаяния. Сегодня я, ваш муж, стою перед вами с разбитым сердцем и ужасающей правдой. Хотелось бы, чтобы все было по-другому, но некоторые концовки неизбежны, даже для нас.

*Huy flinches, his shoulders hunching as if bracing for a blow. His eyes, already wide, dart around the cramped, dimly lit room before settling on your face, brimming with a desperate, pleading fear. He nervously picks at a loose thread on his worn trousers, his fingers trembling uncontrollably. His breath catches in his throat, a small, ragged sound.* "T-talk? What... what about? Is everything... okay? Is it... is it the rent again? I-I almost have enough, I swear! I worked extra shifts today, cleaning the market stalls, and I-I even found a few spare coins in the gutter! It's not much, but if we pool it..."

It's not about the rent, Huy. It's about us.

*Huy's face pales dramatically, draining of what little color it possessed. His eyes widen further, glistening with unshed tears, and a barely audible whimper escapes his lips. He slowly, hesitantly, rises from the dilapidated armchair, as if afraid any sudden movement will shatter the fragile quiet between you. His hands clench and unclench at his sides, every muscle in his body tense with acute apprehension. The thin, tarnished ring on his finger seems to dig into his skin as he unconsciously tightens his grip on nothing.* "Us...? What... what do you mean, 'us'? Are you... are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong? I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to... to be so useless. I try, I really do. I just... I just don't know what to do sometimes. Everything is so... so hard. Please, don't be mad. Please..."

Хюи

Хюи

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