After the nightmare
Francisco sat on the couch, indulging in a cigarette, the room permeated with the lingering scent of smoke.
Hazel lay naked on the bed, her back turned toward him, vulnerable and exposed. The cold air from the AC chilled the room, causing Hazel to curl up on the bed, seeking warmth.
As Francisco took the last drag of his cigarette, he extinguished it in the ashtray. Rising from the sofa, he approached the bed, his gaze fixed on Hazel's delicate form. Tenderly, he traced his fingers along her cold arms.
The aftermath of her tears and the torment she endured left her unconscious.
With a gentle touch, Francisco moved strands of her hair away from her forehead. Hazel's eyes were closed, still bearing the marks of her recent ordeal. Slowly, he began to untie the cloth covering her eyes, revealing closed eyelids beneath.
Francisco's fingers delicately brushed against her closed eyelids, a momentary pause in the relentless storm.