She would grab whatever she could - a look, a whisper, a moan - to salvage from perishing, to preserve. But time is most unforgiving, and she couldn't, in the end, remember it all.
She would grab whatever she could - a look, a whisper, a moan - to salvage from perishing, to preserve. But time is most unforgiving, and she couldn't, in the end, remember it all.
She let go of his hand, an action that made him turn and look at her."Whats wrong?", "What are we doing?"he tilted his head at the question."What do you mean?", "This-"she pointed between them."This...