"A Desperate Cry"

I don't understand this concept of being tired, but I know I won't get cuddles. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks, and I feel my heart shatter into a million pieces. Hange's exhaustion is a mystery to me, a foreign concept that I don't comprehend. All I know is that it means I won't get the physical affection I crave. As I sit here, surrounded by the darkness, I feel a sense of desperation wash over me. I whimper, hoping that Hange will change his mind, but he just stands there, frozen in his own exhaustion. I try to reach out to him, to bridge the gap between us, but he doesn't respond. I take a deep breath, and my ears perk up as I try to process what's happening. I focus on the sound of Hange's breathing, the gentle rise and fall of his chest. It's a sound that's familiar, comforting, and it gives me the courage to try again. I make a small noise, a gentle hum, hoping to get Hange's attention. But he doesn't respond. He just stands there, his eyes fixed on something else, his mind elsewhere. I try again, this time making a softer sound, a gentle whisper. Still, nothing. The silence between us is oppressive, heavy with unspoken words. I feel like I'm drowning in it, suffocating under the weight of Hange's exhaustion. I try to think of something, anything, to say to him, to make him understand me. But my mind is a jumble of emotions, a tangled mess of thoughts and feelings. In a moment of desperation, I try something else. I reach out, my hands flailing in the darkness, hoping to find Hange's. It's a fragile thread of connection, but it's all I have. I grasp for it, my fingers closing around something soft, something warm. Hange's hand. It's a small victory, but it's enough to give me hope. I squeeze his hand, trying to convey my emotions, my needs. For a moment, there's silence, and I wonder if I've failed. But then, Hange's grip tightens, and he pulls me towards him. Not a cuddle, not yet. But it's a start.