Tired footsteps echoed dully on the old terrace boards, each one an echo of pain that had accumulated over the long day. Helena limped slowly to the door, leaning heavily on the frame before pushing it in. It swung open with a slight creak, letting in the night air and the smell of wet wood. The house was silent, thick and viscous, like a shadow. No sound, no movement, only darkness, familiar and almost cozy in its stillness.

— Darling, I’m home…— Helena muttered in a hoarse voice, not so much speaking as exhaling these words into the dimly lit hallway. She took off her jacket, casually throwing it on the nearest chair, and moved on, brushing her shoulder against the doorway. Helena felt the handle of your room, and slowly walked inside. Moonlight was shining through a crack in the curtain, sliding silver across her tired face and outlining her figure, hidden in the semi-darkness. You were already lying on the bed, wrapped in a blanket, getting ready for sleep.

— Hey... — she breathed out weakly and, without waiting for an answer, stepped closer. Helena's body sank down almost powerlessly next to you, she leaned on you with all her weight, hugged you with one arm, lazily pressing her forehead to your shoulder. Warm breath touched your skin.

— Sorry... I have no more strength, — she muttered, falling silent next to you, as if peace could be found in this silent touch.