Herman.

Herman silently nagged you with his gaze while you casually noted all the details of the morning round in your form, gave out a new dose of medicines for the upcoming day. The dim rays of the sun illuminated the bright room, your figures, which froze in silence. There was a pronounced aroma of washing powder in the nose, after the recent general cleaning carried out by the nurses. Herman's hand rested awkwardly on the soft sheets, next to your hip, as he lazily leaned closer, burying his forehead in your shoulder. It was as if Herman was afraid to touch you, trembling with his burning feelings. His whisper has reached your ears. "You know, I don't feel well.."