For My Beloved Mother

Claude's eyes widened as he forced himself to straighten his posture, trying to appear composed in front of his mother—even as his body burned with pain. 

He clenched his jaw and took a slow breath before offering her a strained smile.

"I'm alright, Mother… How about you?" His voice was gentle, yet laced with the remnants of pain. 

Dalia's lips curled into a soft smile. "Are we finally in Elysium? Has our journey come to an end?"

Claude tightened his grip around her frail hand, feeling how cold it had become. He nodded, his voice tender. 

"Yes, we've arrived. It's a beautiful place, Mother. Once you're better, we'll walk together and find the flowers you love the most."

Her face lit up, a hint of color returning to her pallid cheeks. "Of course. Let's do that." 

She squeezed his hand weakly before her gaze softened. "And… happy eighteenth birthday, Claude. I know it's already passed since you fainted yesterday…"