Irene lay in her bed wide awake at 2 a.m. It had been over an hour since Ilyan left. She had been struggling to sleep as usual but the perpetrator was not her anxiety that night. The perpetrator was Ilyan.
Though he was much better when he left than how he was when they had just arrived, her mind kept going back to him. She wondered if he had been able to sleep.
Considering how sorted Ilyan was as a person, she could see the huge hit that he had got with Christina's illness which had shaken him inside out.
Accepting and digesting that your loved one was dying and all that you could do was watch them die had to be one of the most helplessly heartbreaking situations one could ever encounter.
She was sure that she would never understand what Ilyan was going through but all that she truly wanted was to be a loyal friend to him and hold on to him when he was losing the grip on his own self.
