Ivan and Lydia lay quietly on the large bed in Ivan's chambers. The sun outside was slowly sinking, casting golden light through the frosted windows. Snowflakes drifted past the glass, gentle and slow. The room was warm, but their silence held a heaviness neither of them wanted to break just yet.
Lydia lay in his arms, her head resting gently on his chest. Her fingers moved slowly across his back, patting softly in a steady rhythm. Ivan said nothing. His arms were wrapped around her tightly, as though letting go even for a second would make her disappear. His eyes weren't crying anymore, but the pain hadn't left. It was still there, sitting behind his gaze, quietly screaming.
The fire crackled faintly in the hearth, but even that sound felt distant. The weight between them pressed like snow on branches, silent and heavy.
