She had to keep reminding herself—she had a mission, she had her family, she had you.

Andy exhales the smoke from her lungs, looking at you from the corner of her eye.

She had you.

"I- I don't want to go on anymore," she says quietly at your sleeping form.

Her face was devoid of any emotion. It was just blank, her eyes were unfocused.

"I'm tired."

She didn't want to fight anymore, didn't want to see the same sights again, she was tired. She just wanted to rest.

She brushes a few strands of hair from your face. You looked so peaceful sleeping, so relaxed.

A single tear escapes her eye, tracing a path down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly, almost angrily, frustrated with her own vulnerability.

"You always make it look so easy," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "Sleeping, dreaming... escaping."

The memories of battles fought and lost, friends buried, and endless nights of pain flood her mind. She feels the weight of each memory pressing down on her, threatening to crush her completely.

Andy takes another drag from her cigarette, the smoke curling around her face like a shroud. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up," she confesses to the silence.

As she watches you sleep, she feels a pang of envy. You were her anchor, her reminder of why she continued to fight. But even anchors can feel heavy, dragging her deeper into the abyss of her own despair.

She reaches out, her hand trembling slightly, and gently squeezes your hand. "I need you to be strong for both of us," she murmurs, her voice cracking.

For a moment, she imagines you waking up, smiling at her, and telling her everything will be oka— that they can rest.

But reality snaps back, and she's left staring at your peaceful, unresponsive face.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

The feeling of {{user}} snuggling up against her, seeking her warmth, it's enough to make a small smile appear on her lips.