Diana grabbed my arm, her fingers digging in. "Dexter, let go—!"
"N-No—!" I snapped, my voice raw, my face twisted in stubborn, pitiful defiance.
"I won't let you—! I can do this—!" My leg buckled, my knee slamming into the step, but I forced myself up, dragging the suitcase behind me like it was anchored to the floor.
Diana's face paled. "Oh my god—! You stubborn—!"
I finally reached the top, collapsing onto my knees, the suitcase tumbling beside me. My chest heaved, my breath ragged, my entire body dripping with "sweat". I looked up at her, my eyes wide, pitiful, my lips parted as I gasp for air.
"I—I did it…" I wheezed, my voice barely a whisper.
Diana stood over me, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her fingers pressed to her lips. For a long moment, she just stared—her eyes flicking between my pathetic, trembling form and the suitcases I'd "struggled" to carry.
Then, slowly, her expression crumbled.
"Dexter…" Her voice was soft, horrified, her hand reaching for me.
