Emma's eyes were filled with panic and obvious resistance, her voice tinged with pleading, "Martin, don't look, I beg you not to look..."
Her entire body was covered in livid spots and there was a faint smell of decay; how could she bear to let him see such ugliness?
She didn't want to... She didn't want his last memory of her to be this unbearable sight.
"Is something wrong with your body?"
Martin closed his eyes, gritting his teeth hard enough to break the cotton swab between his fingers.
His blood was rushing in all the wrong directions, making him feel as if the air around him was thinning.
It felt like each breath drew in not air but sharp knives, scraping his throat raw.
"There's no time left. Actually, I'm already very satisfied that I could be with you these few days."
"I really want to be selfish and continue living with you in this body, but my body won't allow it, and my remaining conscience is uneasy."
