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★・・・・・・★
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I walked through the hospital corridors, my hands bloodied and scratched, wounds on my face stinging with pain. My clothes were stained with blood, a grim testament to the intensity of the battle I had just emerged from. As I neared the room, a mix of relief and anxiety tightened my chest.
There she was, lying on the hospital bed, fragile and yet resilient. Ashley, my love, bore the brunt of the attack. The bandages and medical equipment surrounding her were a stark contrast to the fierceness she had faced, a warrior in her own right. I approached cautiously, my eyes never leaving her.
The room was bathed in a soft, sterile light, casting shadows across her face. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor provided a somber soundtrack, a reminder of the fragility of life. I pulled up a chair, my body weary from the relentless confrontation.
I took a moment to observe her. Despite the bruises and bandages, her beauty was undeniable. She looked serene in her unconscious state, as if the chaos of the world couldn't touch her. A strand of hair fell delicately across her forehead, and I gently tucked it behind her ear.
My bloodied hands gripped the edge of the chair. The guilt and regret weighed heavily on me. I should have protected her better, prevented the harm that had befallen her. The battle might have been won, but the cost was etched on her delicate form.
Leaning closer, I whispered words of reassurance. "I'm here, Ashley. I'll always be here. I should've kept you safe."
The soft beeping of the heart monitor seemed to respond, a steady rhythm that mirrored the ebb and flow of emotions within me. I reached out, caressing her hand, a feeble attempt to transfer strength and comfort.
