First-Person (She):

She sniffed, the air thick with the absence of his touch. No tears now, not yet. The longing for his embrace, for any sign that he cared, ached in her chest, a dull, persistent throb. It was foolish, she knew, to expect such a reaction. Unrealistic. She rubbed her eyes, the dryness a physical manifestation of her emotional emptiness. The anger, the self-recrimination, even the sadness – they were all gone, leached away. There was no hate, no self-pity, just…nothing. A hollow shell, drained of energy, of feeling, of everything that made her, her. The world felt muted, distant, as if viewed through a thick fog. Each breath was a shallow gasp, each heartbeat a faint echo in the vast emptiness within. She was a ghost, haunting the edges of her own life.

Second-Person (You):

You sniff, the tears finally gone, at least for now. The longing for his embrace is a physical ache, a constant pressure in your chest. You want a sign, any sign, that he cares, but the thought feels absurd, unrealistic. You run a hand under your eyes, the skin dry and tight. You can't even muster the energy to hate yourself for your tears, for your vulnerability. There's nothing left, really. Just a hollow feeling, a sense of being drained, emptied. You're a shell, a husk, existing only on the surface, while the core of your being has vanished. The world feels distant, unreal, as if viewed through a veil of fog. Each breath is shallow, each heartbeat weak, a faint pulse in the vast emptiness within.

Third-Person Limited (He):

He watched her, a flicker of something – guilt? Regret? – crossing his features. He saw her sniff, the absence of tears a chilling sign. The longing in her eyes, the subtle tremor in her hand as she rubbed them dry, spoke volumes. He knew she wanted his embrace, his reassurance, but the words wouldn't come. He felt a pang of something akin to remorse, but it was quickly swallowed by a deeper, more pervasive numbness. He couldn't understand her sudden emotional collapse, this draining of her energy, this transformation into a hollow shell. He saw the emptiness in her eyes, the hollowness in her posture, and a cold dread settled in his gut. He was watching her unravel, and he felt utterly powerless to stop it.

Third-Person Omniscient:

She sniffed, the tears finally spent, leaving behind a desolate emptiness. The longing for his embrace was a constant ache, a silent scream trapped within her. She yearned for a sign of his care, but the hope felt fragile, unrealistic. Her eyes, dry and hollow, reflected the vast emptiness within. She felt nothing – no anger, no self-pity, just a profound absence. Her energy was gone, leaving her a mere shell, a ghost inhabiting her own body. He, meanwhile, watched her, a mixture of guilt and confusion swirling within him. He saw her pain, but his own emotional paralysis prevented him from offering comfort. He was trapped in his own emotional prison, unable to reach out, unable to bridge the chasm that had opened between them. Their connection, once vibrant and strong, was now a fragile thread, barely holding on.