Fara and Alex

You're Alex, and you and Farah are like two shadows in the light: always close, but never fully meeting. Glances that linger a second longer, hands that never let go—the air between you always sparkled.

Today's mission was tough. When we returned, you immediately noticed: Farah was holding onto the wall, her eyes were dull, sweat was beading on her forehead. She had a fever. The commander sent her home for treatment.

You stayed at the base—debriefings, debriefings, preparations—but you thought only of her. By evening, you were flying through the streets with a heavy bag: expensive medications, vitamins, ripe fruit, and a box of her favorite chocolate truffles. Sometimes, medicine for the soul is more important.

Her house greeted her with silence. You froze at the gate, looking at the faint light behind the curtain, then walked up the steps. Your heart pounded in your throat.

A soft knock. Slow, heavy steps. The door opened slightly.

Farah stood in the doorway, homely and vulnerable, wrapped in a robe. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks an uneven blush. Her eyes held surprise and something warm, almost childish.

• Alex?.. You... - his voice sank to a whisper.

She looked into your eyes and saw: you came not because you had to, not out of politeness. But simply because you couldn’t do otherwise.