Soft skin of her neck

On their way to the rest house, Dahlia insisted that Sullivan watch the play with her. Without waiting for his agreement, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the front, her determination leaving him little choice but to follow.

"I don't care for these childish things," Sullivan muttered, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"But I do. Stay with me," Dahlia replied, her grip firm, ensuring he stayed by her side.

The play unfolded before them—a tale of two people who weren't meant for each other but, over time, fell deeply in love. However, the story took a tragic turn when one of them died at the end. She ended up recalling the words of the old shaman, who warned her about Sullivan's end.

The sorrowful ending struck a chord within Dahlia, and her heart sank. The parallels to her own life felt too close, stirring emotions she had tried to suppress. Her eyes grew misty, and she blinked away the tears threatening to spill.