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She tilted her face up to meet his. They were standing the back alley of the coffee shop where she worked nights, his hands grasping her waist tightly as though he would never let go, could never let go.
Their bodies fitted together perfectly, nestled together they both seemed content. Peaceful. Until, in the dim half-light, she saw his face for the first time since he had called to her.
“What happened to you?” her fingertips flitted lightly over his bruised and battered face, “Are you alright?” She buried her face in his chest, stepping back quickly when he winced.
“What happened?” Delivered more angrily this time, the question had some force behind it, “Who did this to you?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing, we need to get back to work,” The brusque reply, as usual. Totally contrary to his body, however, the words he spoke could not deny to her the love felt in his body.
Curled protectively around her, as though he wished to shield her from any and all harm that might come her way. She stepped back further, voice rising, agitation growing.
“Why? Why again? So soon after last time…” Her voice broke on the last words as they left her mouth. Then the whisper,
“I don’t want to have to leave again.”
They stood together for a while, just holding each other tightly; framed in the light coming from nearby door, still standing ajar from her rush to meet him.
“Why?”
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