They still stood in the spots they began, staring at each other with pain and longing. Their hearts ached, though neither of them admitted it. Anger was still boiling somewhere, enough to go unnoticed, but enough to still have pride.
He wanted to hold her in his arms the way he had so many nights ago when she told him she loved him for the first time. The tears that had been on her cheeks then were from her own demons- not ones he had brought upon her. It was on that couch she had sobbed into his favorite tee shirt (that she later would steal) and admitted her feelings. It was on that couch that she told him how scared she was, but how much she trusted him. It was there that he told her how he couldn't live without her.
It still stood. How was he supposed to continue his days without waking up to her beautiful smile? Who was he going to call midday because he was thinking about them? When was he supposed to move on when he never wanted to leave her side?
