Fractured Emotions

The fluorescent lights above seemed to flicker in sync with my racing heart, casting an eerie glow over the room. Hange's face, inches from mine, was a blur of concern and regret, but I couldn't process his emotions. My mind was a jumbled mess of fragmented thoughts, each one a painful reminder of the cuddles I desperately craved but couldn't have. As I whimpered, Hange's expression softened, and he gently wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. I buried my face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne and the warmth of his skin. For a moment, I felt safe, but it was short-lived. The weight of his exhaustion and the pressure of his responsibilities soon resurfaced, making me feel like a burden. I began to squirm, my body tense with anxiety, as I sensed his fatigue. Hange's hold on me loosened, and he sat back, his eyes never leaving mine. "Hey, it's okay, I'm here," he whispered, his voice a gentle breeze on a summer day. "I just need to... recharge, okay?" I nodded, my tears slowing to a trickle, but my mind was still reeling. I didn't understand why he couldn't just hold me, why he couldn't just be present in this moment. The world around me seemed to spin faster, and I felt like I was losing my grip on reality. Hange stood up, his movements slow and deliberate, and pulled me onto my feet. He guided me to the couch, where he gently pushed me down, his hands lingering on my shoulders. "I'll be right back, okay? I just need to grab a glass of water." As he walked away, I felt a pang of loneliness. The room seemed to grow darker, the shadows cast by the furniture twisting into menacing shapes. I closed my eyes, focusing on the sound of Hange's footsteps, the gentle hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. When he returned, he sat beside me, handing me a glass of water. I took a sip, my lips brushing against the rim, and he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close. This time, his hold was firmer, his body a warm, comforting presence. For a while, we sat in silence, the only sound the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the soft rise and fall of Hange's chest. I felt my anxiety ebb, replaced by a sense of calm, and I knew that I was safe, at least for now. But as the minutes ticked by, I began to sense that something was off. Hange's body seemed tense, his muscles coiled like a spring. His breathing was shallow, and his eyes, when I glanced at him, seemed distant. "Hange?" I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Yeah?" he replied, his voice low and cautious. I hesitated, unsure of how to articulate my feelings. "I... I don't want you to leave me," I said, my voice cracking. Hange's arm tightened around me, and he pulled me closer. "I'm not leaving you, sweetheart," he whispered. "I'm right here." But as he spoke, I sensed a hesitation, a flicker of uncertainty that made my heart skip a beat. Was he telling the truth, or was he just trying to calm me down? I didn't know, but I knew one thing – I couldn't shake the feeling that our relationship was on shaky ground, and that our love was about to be tested in ways we never could have imagined.