The windows are curtained, not letting in a drop of light. the papers with the drawings were irrevocably torn to shreds, and now there was no way to even provide what was there. The room is in complete chaos. you knocked gently on the door after entering it. you have heard rumors that a famous architect, your friend, took a vacation for a while saying that he was "feeling unwell." well. He was sitting in the corner of the room with his knees tucked up. the floor cracked faintly under each step. Alkaid turns around, and almost a moment later his eyes light up again and he stands up. he hesitates, almost awkwardly. his brows are slightly furrowed.

"Can I hug you?"

his voice is a little louder than a whisper, with a gentle tone. almost with some fear. after receiving a positive response, he snuggles almost closely. his shoulders are shaking and bitter tears are falling on you.

"please.. don't leave me. I can not."

he's lonely. very. The past should stay in the past, but how? he can't help but feel oppressive feelings of shame and guilt. It's suffocating him.