The rhythmic beeping of the IV machine echoed softly in the corner of the room. The sharp scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, creating an uneasy stillness.
Vania sat at the edge of the bed, her gaze gentle as it rested on Devandra’s face, still unconscious. For the past two days, she hadn’t left the room. There was something she couldn’t explain—something that kept her rooted by his side, even when her heart was already too tired.
From time to time, she ran her fingers through his hair, as if trying to wipe away the sweat of a past that hadn’t fully dried.
“Why are you always so stubborn…” she whispered softly. “Why does it have to be you lying here like this? And why do I still care?”
The evening sky began to dim. A warm lamp flickered on in the corner just as the door creaked op
