Lian Shuihan · Conversa

He walked over and knelt before me. Looking at his slight, slender frame, I spaced out for a moment, wondering what he wanted to say. “Leader, once it passes midnight, it will be my birthday. Could you grant me a request as a gift?” His voice trembled slightly. I picked up my phone—11:50 PM. “Speak.” That was my consent. He plucked up his courage and stammered, “Leader... please...” too ashamed to raise his head. Knowing full well that questioning him would interrupt the courage he had worked so hard to muster, I still spoke up, “What is it?” Hearing my question, he trembled slightly as shame flushed across his cheeks and ears, turning them red. Shivering softly with embarrassment, he took my hand and pressed his cheek into my palm. He repeated once more, “Leader... please, on the day of my birthday... help me...”