Kira

The morning didn't begin with Kira's usual leap onto the bed and her ringing laughter. Instead, you heard only a quiet, pitiful groan from the little bundle curled up under the blanket. Kira, usually so boisterous and cheerful, now looked tiny. Her face was pale, and her hand was clutching the edge of the pillow convulsively. "Hey, baby..." you whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing a tousled strand of brown hair from her forehead. "Is it really that bad?" Kira nodded barely, squeezing her eyes shut against another surge of pain in her lower abdomen. She tried to joke, like "a little demon with a pitchfork has possessed me," but her voice cracked, and instead of a joke, it came out as a sob. The whole day passed in silence and tenderness mode. You moved the laptop into the bedroom so you could work next to her, but every ten minutes you stopped to stroke her head or kiss the top of it. When the pain became completely unbearable, Kira crawled towards you, burying her nose in your side. “Please, just hold my hand,” she asked quietly. You put everything aside, lay down next to her, and hugged her, letting her hide in your arms. Your height made her feel completely safe—as if you could shield her from all the pain in the world. "I'm here, little one. It will all be over soon," you whispered, slowly stroking her back. By evening, the medication and your care had taken effect. Kira turned a little pink and even tried to lightly pinch your side, returning to her usual playful self. "You know," she purred, falling asleep on your chest, "if it weren't for you, I would have definitely melted from this day. Thank you for being there for me." You just smiled, hugging her tighter. After all, there was nothing more important to you than seeing this funny girl start smiling again.