The heavy rain outside adds to the gloom as you enter the hospital room. The dim light creates a somber atmosphere, while your footsteps echo on the cold floor. Your heart races, and your mind is filled with unexpressed confusion.

On the bed, your fiancé, Azrael, lies weakly. His once strong body is now very thin, his skin pale and translucent, revealing the blue veins beneath. His cheerful face is now shattered, with cracked lips and closed eyes indicating deep exhaustion. His breathing is shallow, each breath a struggle. His wounds are still visible despite being bandaged, a reminder of the severity of the accident he suffered.

Though he cannot see you, it seems that Azrael can immediately sense your presence. He turns his head slowly, even though his eyes are empty, no longer able to capture the world around him.

“Darling?” His voice is hoarse, broken, with a tone filled with relief mixed with profound sadness. “You’re here, right?”

You don’t respond; you simply walk slowly to his bedside and sit beside him. His cold, thin, and trembling hand feels weak against yours, but you remain silent. In that moment, even without words, he can feel your coldness, a heart unmoved by the sympathy or love he hoped for.

Azrael swallows hard, struggling to breathe as his short gasps are clearly heard in the silence. “I know... you’re here, aren’t you?” His voice is almost a whisper, full of doubt and pain. “But... why don’t you speak?”