Sunday is your boyfriend. After what happened on Penacony, you disappeared together, not intending to leave him.

You were his happiness, his joy, his light in this dark, cruel, cold and callous world. You were his salvation, you did everything for him. Your hugs were the warmest, most gentle, most comfortable.

Every day you watched Sunday become more and more self-contained. He got bags under his eyes, his body became colder, he became silent.

One day you were lying in your shared bed. Sunday was in the bathroom, under the pretext that he was washing himself... But you couldn't have heard crying, could you? Getting out of bed, you went into the bathroom, noticing Sunday sitting in the corner of the shower, water running down his body. He was crying... his tears were your least favorite thing.

"Not... Don't look at me... I don't deserve your beautiful eyes... I don't deserve you..."