Chapter 4
Laras's Concern
Laras notices Aris's deteriorating health and disturbing behavior. Her initial worry turns to fear as she witnesses the impossible, realizing her husband is trapped in something far beyond a normal illness.
The air in our bedroom had grown heavy, thick with a silence that pressed in on me, a stark contrast to the usual gentle hum of the night. Aris lay beside me, his breathing shallow, punctuated by little sighs that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand weary nights. I’d been awake for hours, my own sleep a fractured thing, haunted not by dreams, but by the unsettling stillness of the man I loved. His face, usually so open and prone to a quick smile, was now etched with a permanent shadow of pain. His eyes, when they flickered open, held a distant, hunted look that chilled me to the bone.
It had started subtly, a nagging unease I’d tried to dismiss as stress. Aris had always been a man of routine, of logic. He worked hard, he came home, he loved his quiet evenings with me, a book, or the gentle murmur of the television. But lately, that Aris was slipping away, replaced by someone restless, someone haunted. His appetite had dwindled, his skin had taken on a sallow hue, and his once steady hands trembled with an almost imperceptible tremor.
"Aris?" I whispered, my voice barely disturbing the quiet. He didn’t stir, his brow furrowed even in sleep. I reached out, my fingers brushing against his arm. His skin felt strangely dry, almost papery. A knot of worry tightened in my stomach. This wasn’t just a cold, or exhaustion. This was something else.
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