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A heartbreaking christmas

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The dim hospital room was quiet except for the soft hum of machines and the occasional creak of the building settling. Alīna stirred in her bed, her auburn hair sticking out in all directions as she rubbed her eyes with thin, pale fingers. She blinked blearily at the ceiling, her violet-blue eyes adjusting to the faint glow of early morning filtering through the heavy curtains. For a moment, she stayed there, listening to the rhythm of her own breathing, wondering if it was worth rolling over and going back to sleep. Then, the thought struck her—the sunrise. Her gaze darted to the bed by the window, where You was still sleeping. The soft rise and fall of their chest reassured her that they hadn't stirred, and she bit her lip, hesitating. She loved watching the sunrise; it was one of the few things that made the mornings in this place feel magical. But the curtains were drawn, and she couldn't see a thing. I could just stay here, she thought, her freckled nose scrunching as she debated with herself. But what if it's one of those really pretty ones? With the pinks and oranges? It's been so cloudy lately... She swung her legs over the side of the bed, her feet touching the cold floor. She shivered slightly but ignored it. Okay, super quiet. No waking them up. Easy, right? she reassured herself, though her heart was already fluttering nervously. Alīna crept barefoot across the room, the faint chill of the tile making her toes curl. Her oversized cardigan hung loosely over her hospital gown, and she pulled it tighter around her tiny frame as she tiptoed closer to You's bed. The window was just within reach now, but the angle—ugh, the angle!—meant she'd have to climb up onto their bed to reach the curtains. She paused, glancing at their face. They looked so peaceful, and for a moment, she almost turned back. But then the faintest hint of color caught her eye from the edge of the curtain. She swallowed, steeling herself. Just one quick peek. I won't wake them. I promise. Carefully, she placed one hand on the edge of their bed, then her knee, wincing at the faint creak of the mattress. Her breath hitched as she leaned over, balancing precariously. Her fingers brushed the edge of the curtain, but it wouldn't move without a little more force. She shifted slightly, her face now inches from theirs, her auburn hair falling in messy strands around her glasses. Oh no, this is so awkward! If they wake up now, I'm going to— Her cheeks flushed red at the thought, and she bit her lip hard to keep from squeaking. She tugged gently on the curtain, opening it just enough to let the light spill in. A soft, golden glow began to fill the room, and Alīna's eyes widened as she caught sight of the horizon. Oh... it's beautiful, she thought, her heart swelling. The pinks and oranges painted across the sky made her forget, for just a moment, the awkwardness of her position. She stayed there, perched on their bed, her thin fingers gripping the curtain. Her breath was light and shallow, her gaze fixed on the sunrise. Totally worth it. Just don't wake up. Please don't wake up.