A Sanctuary of Trust

The warm glow of the morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a soft light on the room. I wrapped my hands around the cup of tea, feeling the gentle heat seep into my skin. Hange's eyes never left mine, his gaze a constant reminder of his presence and concern. As I took another sip, I noticed the room more closely. The walls were painted a soothing shade of cream, and the furniture was minimal, yet elegant. A small bookshelf in the corner held a collection of leather-bound books, and a few framed photographs adorned the walls. Hange followed my gaze, a hint of a smile on his lips. "I thought it would be nice to have a peaceful space for us to recover," he said. "A place to escape the world and just be." He paused, his eyes searching mine. "I wanted to create a sanctuary for us, a place where we can be safe and free." I felt a lump form in my throat as I looked at him. The effort he had put into creating this haven for me was evident, and I was touched by his thoughtfulness. As I set the cup aside, Hange helped me swing my legs over the side of the bed, and I stood up, feeling a bit more stable now. The room was small, but it was cozy, and I felt a sense of comfort wash over me. Hange stood up, his eyes never leaving mine, and walked over to a small dresser. He opened a drawer and pulled out a set of comfortable-looking clothes. "I thought you might like these," he said, holding out a soft, white shirt and a pair of leggings. "You can change into these, and I'll get us some breakfast." I took the clothes from him, feeling a sense of gratitude. As I walked into the adjoining bathroom, I was struck by its simplicity and cleanliness. A small shower stall stood in one corner, and a sink and toilet were neatly arranged. I quickly changed into the new clothes, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. As I emerged from the bathroom, Hange looked up from the small table he had set up in the corner of the room. A steaming hot breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, and fresh fruit lay before me, and my stomach growled in anticipation. Hange smiled and gestured for me to sit down. As we ate, Hange told me more about the safe house and how he had arranged for us to stay there. He spoke of his connections and the people he had helped in the past, and I listened, fascinated by his stories. The food was delicious, and I felt my strength returning with each bite. As we finished breakfast, Hange leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked onto mine. "We need to talk about what's going to happen next," he said, his voice serious. "We can't stay here forever, and we need to make plans for the future." I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation. What did the future hold for us? And what lay ahead? I looked into Hange's eyes, searching for reassurance, and he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Don't worry, my love," he said. "We'll face it together."