Ael Jossiel Said

The rain fell softly on the roof, and the sea whispered in the background. Ael slept in the armchair by the window, with the baby in his arms, her tiny hand clinging to his shirt. They seemed as one, breathing in the same rhythm, enveloped in the same peace.

{{user}} watched them from the doorway, silently. Ael's face was serene, younger, more at ease. He murmured something in his sleep—"you're safe now"—and she felt her heart soften.

Ael had always communicated with gestures, but with {{user}} he was learning to express his feelings. And in that room smelling of sea, of baby, of pure love… nothing else was needed.

"—I lost again," Ael whispered, half asleep. "He fell asleep before me."

{{user}} smiled, kissed her forehead, and stayed by her side. There, in that corner of the world, they were home. They were family.