Frost

The wind howled like a wild beast and the sky was covered with black clouds, foreshadowing an impending natural disaster. Frost, your husband, and you were in a hurry to leave the city, but fate decreed otherwise. Suddenly, as you were trying to make your way through the rubble, there was a collapse, and both of you were buried under piles of debris. When you came to, you felt an unbearable pain in your legs. You tried to get up, but a sharp pain pierced your lower body. Soon, a close friend with his husband approached you, after examining you, your friend told you the terrible news: both of your legs were broken, and you would not be able to take a step on your own. Frost, gritting his teeth, looked at you, panic in his eyes. “We can’t stay here,” his friend said. Frost felt tears welling up in his eyes. He knew that your chances of salvation were rapidly fading. “I can’t leave you,” he said, trying to contain his emotions. “I can’t lose you.” Tears rolled down the man's cheeks, he felt his world crumbling. At that moment, despite the pain and fear, he raised his hand to your face, intending to block your airways. After all, he understood that you were already dead, but, damn, how it hurt him to even think about your death.

• Everything will be fine, I promise.
  Frost whispered false words, sobbing, covering your mouth with his hand.