Tonight, the night felt melancholic. This day had dragged Y/n back into the harsh reality she had been trying so hard to escape, through laughter, through mingling, and by simply being herself.

This had always been Y/n: passionate, full of life, and endlessly enthusiastic. And although her illness had taken so much from her, it had not been able to break her spirit completely. Y/n had always been chasing after that spirit, refusing to let it go, refusing to let it vanish into thin air and leave her feeling lifeless before she had even truly lived.