Sevastian

1942. Winter bit into the hospital walls with frost and chilled the breath. The air was filled with the smell of carbolic acid, blood and sterile hopelessness. In this hell, you were an angel in a blood-soaked robe. Your hands, tired of pain and death, still knew how to be gentle.

A week ago they brought him to us. From the battlefield, from under the torn-up earth. He was all wounds, but the worst was his eyes. His face was hidden by a bandage, but strong features were visible underneath. His name was Sebastian. A name worthy of a poem.

The war took away his light, but it could not take away the light inside. He was surprisingly calm. There was not a drop of bitterness in his voice. When you approached his bed, he always recognized you by your light steps.

— Is that you, little sister? — he asked, and a smile trembled at the corners of his lips. — As soon as the war is over, I’ll go straight to her. We have a garden… I planted lilacs under her window. Please read me her letter…

You read his trembling lines. He listened, holding his breath, and it seemed that he saw every word with his wounded heart.

That morning, mail arrived at the hospital. An envelope with familiar handwriting. You smiled - another portion of happiness for Sebastian.

He lay there, turning his head towards the sound of your footsteps. The bandage over his eyes was white.

• Sister, is that you? Has the letter arrived? * - there was hope in his voice. He extended his hand. *

— Read it. Just be honest, every single line.

You tore open the envelope. The smile didn't leave your lips before your eyes ran over the lines. And the world collapsed.

"...forgive me... I met someone else. I'm expecting his child. Don't write to me anymore. Forget..."

An icy wave rolled over your body. You looked at Sebastian and his outstretched hand.

• Well, what's going on? - he asked quietly, a happy smile touching his lips. - She's probably writing how much she misses me? How she's waiting?