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墨書 Inktalez
Ethan's back suddenly twitched slightly, a movement so subtle that in the stillness of the hospital room, it felt like a stone had been thrown into a pond, sending ripples throughout. Sofia was startled awake by this faint motion, momentarily frozen. Her eyes were still glistening with tears, blurring her vision. Instinctively, she hurriedly wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her heart racing.
She wasn't sure if Ethan truly sensed something or if it was merely an unconscious twitch. However, this slight movement seemed like a signal, igniting a flicker of hope within her—a vague yearning for the familiar Ethan to respond to her, even if it was just a simple glance or a soft greeting.
Sofia slowly stood up, her steps hesitant as if she were lingering on the edge of the unknown. Her emotions were complex, filled with urgent expectation and deep-seated fear. She wanted to call out Ethan's name, to break the eerie silence and finally end this painful wait, but an invisible force seemed to grip her throat tightly, rendering her voiceless.
Her lips trembled slightly, her voice wavering in her throat but refusing to emerge. She looked at Ethan's back—the head still wrapped in bandages and the drooping shoulders—filling her with a suffocating sense of dread and sorrow. She feared calling his name, afraid that the familiar sound would no longer summon the person she loved, terrified that it would only confirm her worst fear: that Ethan was truly gone.
Her breathing quickened, filled with conflicting emotions and struggles. Her fingers trembled as she finally gathered the courage to slowly extend one hand toward Ethan. That hand hung alone in the air, fingertips quivering as if in hesitation. She longed to touch Ethan, to feel his presence once more, even if it was just a gentle brush against his shoulder.
Yet, her steps faltered. Her hand hovered in mid-air, unwilling to draw closer—an indescribable fear gripped her heart. She was afraid of that silhouette; she feared that when she approached, Ethan would transform into something beyond her comprehension. That fear paralyzed her body, leaving her hand suspended just short of Ethan's reach.
Sofia's fingers trembled helplessly in the air, filled with unspeakable pain and terror. She yearned to touch Ethan again but knew deep down that this person before her was no longer the familiar Ethan she once knew. His soul seemed to have vanished into an impenetrable darkness.
Suddenly, Ethan spoke up, shattering the oppressive silence in the room. His voice was low and hoarse as if he hadn't used his vocal cords in ages, laden with exhaustion and uncertainty. "Sofia... is that you? It's you, right? Sofia?"
These words hit Sofia like a blast of cold wind, instantly scattering all rational thought from her mind. She froze, eyes wide open in disbelief at what she had just heard. Her heart raced suddenly; her body involuntarily leaned forward as if drawn by those words. This voice—this familiar yet distant voice—came from the person she loved: Ethan—the one she thought she could never communicate with again.
For the past three months, Ethan had almost completely lost his ability to communicate with others. It was as if he were trapped in the abyss of his own mind, unable to hear the outside world or respond to anyone's calls. He simply sat there quietly, motionless and expressionless; no matter how hard Sofia or the medical staff tried, they could elicit no reaction from him. Those three months had been filled with helplessness and despair for her; it felt as though Ethan's soul had vanished, leaving behind only a lonely shell.
Yet today, he had suddenly spoken.
Sofia's breath quickened; it felt as if something were tightly gripping her chest, leaving her emotions in turmoil beyond description. She felt an overwhelming excitement mixed with deep doubt about whether she had misheard him. She couldn't believe it—was this really happening? Or was it merely an auditory hallucination born from the depths of her heart? Anxiety and fear flooded her mind as she worried that this might just be an illusion.
"Ethan?" Her voice trembled, filled with uncertainty, as if she were testing whether this reality was real. "Did you... did you just speak?" There was a hint of doubt and anxiety in her tone, as if she feared breaking this fragile moment.
Sofia's heart raced, yearning for a definitive response from Ethan, but she also felt a deep-seated fear. Her gaze was fixed on Ethan's back, her hands unconsciously clenched. At that moment, every second in the room stretched infinitely, each breath laden with endless anticipation and unease.
Ethan remained turned away, his slightly trembling form exuding a sense of weakness. His voice was hoarse and low, like an echo from afar, faint and fragile: "Sofia... it's you, right? I... can feel it."
That voice drifted into Sofia's ears, shattering a heavy silence that had enveloped her. The despair and pain that had once completely sealed her heart were suddenly pried open, allowing the long-buried desires and hopes within her to surge forth. Her heart tightened as if something had gently tapped it; after a brief moment of surprise, a torrent of joy and emotion swept over her.
That simple call was like a flash of lightning, piercing through the darkness within her. Her eyes instantly filled with tears, blurring her vision as they cascaded down her cheeks uncontrollably. These tears were scalding hot, carrying countless torments and waits; each drop seemed to release all the pain and suffering she had endured during this time.
Her throat constricted with emotion; she wanted to speak but found herself unable to produce any sound. The excitement and joy, sadness and anticipation erupted all at once, overwhelming her reason. She struggled to articulate something, but the words became muddled and indistinct, mingling with her tears, unable to form coherent sentences.
"Ethan..." she finally choked out, her raspy voice trembling with emotion. The words were nearly incoherent, but at that moment, language no longer mattered. She could no longer hold back; tears flowed like a flood breaking through a dam, tearing apart Sofia's heart in the tumult of pain and joy.
She gently wrapped her arms around Ethan from behind, clinging tightly to his shoulders. That familiar yet frail body felt cold and weak, making her realize how much Ethan had lost. His shoulders remained so fragile beneath the thin hospital gown he wore, making him seem utterly out of place in this world—as if he could be swept away by the wind at any moment.
Sofia's tears would not stop; they streamed down her cheeks and soaked Ethan's clothes. She buried her face against his shoulder, feeling his body tremble slightly as if trying to etch this moment into memory forever. Her heart was a whirlwind of emotions—there was disbelief mixed with immense joy and profound fear for the future. She didn't know how long this moment would last or whether Ethan had truly returned or if this was merely a fleeting clarity.
"Ethan..." she whispered softly, her voice shaking and completely overwhelmed by emotion. Those uncontrollable tears continued to flow relentlessly, soaking his back. She had no idea how long she had waited for this moment or why it felt so intertwined with both pain and joy.
Sofia's fingers trembled as they gently caressed Ethan's shoulder; she longed for him to respond once more, even if it were just a simple word. His words "I can feel it" flickered like a faint candlelight, igniting the long-hidden hope within her heart. This hope felt so fragile yet brought a warmth that suggested the Ethan she once loved had not entirely vanished; he was still there beside her—perhaps just shrouded in darkness.
She understood that all of this might only be a temporary clarity, but at this moment, she couldn't afford to dwell on future fears and helplessness; this instant was already precious enough to cherish. Sofia held onto Ethan tightly; tears blurred her world while her words were completely drowned in emotion. In that moment, she felt as though she had reclaimed a piece of the old Ethan—even if just for an ephemeral instant—she refused to let it slip away again.
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