He was everywhere now.
That man, that one person she used to never bother to know the name of, now was present in every single memory of hers henceforth.
Every day of every moment, I could always count to hear the light thud of his cane making its way toward her like clockwork. It was always the same familiar scene, always the same familiar tree, with those same familiar silhouettes huddled beneath its winding branches.
They would talk the time away. Or he would, to be more precise. Adalia preferred to just listen to him ramble on and on about… anything, I suppose. There was a quiet moment with him around, and I think she liked that.
The instances where she was, the long days and nights where she would be left confined to her bed agonized by the constant throbbing reminders of her ebbing mortality as company made for quite the harrowing sight.