The man opened his eyes again, looking fatigued: "Aldana Candi, I'm a bit tired..."
Aldana Candi looked at his increasingly pale cheeks, pursed her lips slightly, and raised her hand trying to help him up.
"If you're sleepy, go back to your room to sleep. It's too cold here; you'll catch a chill."
Philip Shaw struggled to sit himself up, the consequence of slowed blood flow being that every time he awoke, his limbs were numb, and his joints were very weak.
Sitting on the sofa, he looked down at his bluish finger joints, and softly asked: "Am I dying?"
The moon gradually rose, the darkness was slowly sprinkled with silver light.
Aldana Candi said: "You won't die."
Philip Shaw raised his head to look at her, in the hazy moonlight, his gaze seemed very tender.
He gently said: "I would have no regrets if I die."
Aldana Candi withdrew her gaze, silent without saying a word.
Yet Philip Shaw laughed, raising his hand to place it on Aldana Candi's shoulder: "Let's go, head home."
