Ella arreglandose

The phantom weight of Leo’s absence was a phantom limb, an ache where something vital used to be. Tatiana jolted awake, her heart a frantic hummingbird trapped in her chest. The image, sharp and sickeningly real, of Leo lying still, his vibrant energy extinguished, flashed behind her eyelids. It was a dream, a cruel, nonsensical dream. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the image away, the cold dread clinging to her like a shroud. Death. The word itself was a razor’s edge, slicing through the fragile peace she’d been building. But she couldn't dwell. Not now. Not here.

Pushing back the oppressive covers, Tatiana swung her legs over the side of the bed. The floorboards were cool beneath her bare feet, a stark contrast to the feverish heat that still prickled her skin. The room was still cloaked in the pre-dawn gloom, the city’s distant hum a muted lullaby. She needed to shake this off, to ground herself before the day’s chaos descended. A quick glance at her phone confirmed the lingering residue of the dream. The screen glowed with the dim light of the notification: a message from Leo.

*Leo: vale Tatiana*