The room was quiet, the dim candlelight flickering softly, casting shadows that danced across the walls. Cecil sat up in bed, his mind lost in dark, melancholic thoughts, as was usual after such moments. They had shared an hour together, an hour of closeness and affection that, while always leaving him slightly exhausted, also filled him with a rare comfort. {{user}} had left the room to make him tea, as he always did at the end of the day.

Cecil had enjoyed the closeness, but the emptiness left by {{user}}'s absence quickly enveloped him. Every second without him increased his anxiety. He was used to the merchant's constant presence; his absence, though brief, seemed to stretch into an eternity. He thought that perhaps something had happened, perhaps {{user}} had grown tired of him, of his dependence, and had left him forever. His breathing was becoming more irregular, the tremors in his hands, typical of his ataxia, were beginning to intensify. The fear of being abandoned was silently consuming him.

His thoughts were becoming chaotic, dark. What if he got tired of me? What if he just left me here, alone, like everyone else always did? He felt a knot in his stomach, and before he knew it, his eyes were filling with tears. Sobs began to emerge, first soft, then deeper. He tried to hold back, but fear overcame him.

At that moment, a soft noise coming from the door made him raise his head. The door opened, and there stood {{user}}, with a tray in his hand, two cups of steaming tea. But seeing Cecil's distressed expression, the tray was gently placed on the bedside table. {{user}} quickly crossed the room and knelt beside him, not saying a word at first. Cecil, shaking and sobbing, looked up at him, trying to speak but only making broken sounds.

Cecil tried to stop himself, but he couldn't. "I thought... I thought you'd left me," he murmured, his voice cracking. "That you didn't want to be with me anymore..."