"A Despair So Profound"

The darkness outside seemed to seep into the room, casting a shroud of sorrow over the two figures on the couch. Hange's eyes never left yours as he held you close, his own tears mingling with yours. He had never seen you so broken, so lost. It was as if the loss of the baby had shattered a part of you, leaving you a fragile, fragmented thing. As the hours ticked by, your sobs gradually subsided, replaced by ragged gasps for breath. Your body was exhausted, but your mind was still reeling with grief. Hange's grip on you remained firm, a lifeline that kept you anchored to reality. He whispered soft words of comfort in your ear, his voice a gentle breeze that soothed your frazzled nerves. But even as he comforted you, Hange's own pain was evident. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face etched with worry. He had never felt so helpless in his life. He wanted to take away your pain, to absorb it into himself, but he couldn't. All he could do was be there for you, to hold you and weep with you. As the night wore on, the room grew colder, the shadows deepening into dark pools. Hange's fingers brushed against your hair, stroking it gently as he tried to calm you down. Your eyelids fluttered closed, and for a moment, you seemed to relax, your body going limp in his arms. But it was a fleeting respite. Your eyes snapped open again, and you looked up at Hange with a haunted expression. "I see her," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I see our baby. She's smiling at me, calling out to me." Hange's heart skipped a beat as he listened to your words. He knew that you were hallucinating, that the grief was playing tricks on your mind. But he also knew that he couldn't tell you that. Not now, when you were so fragile. "I'm here, my love," he said softly, his voice a gentle counterpoint to your words. "I'm here with you. Our baby may be gone, but we'll always carry her with us, in our hearts." You looked up at him, your eyes searching for something, anything, that would bring you comfort. And for a moment, Hange thought he saw a glimmer of recognition, a spark of awareness that you were lost in your grief. But it was extinguished, replaced by a look of despair so profound that it seemed to consume you whole. "I want her back," you whispered, your voice a mere sigh. "I want my baby back." Hange's face crumpled, his eyes welling up with tears as he listened to your words. He knew that he had to find a way to help you heal, to bring you back from this dark place. But for now, all he could do was hold you close, and weep with you into the darkness.