She is small in his arms. Looking across him, a black cord is tangled in the black spirals of hair that dusts his chest. Breathing in his scent so that she can keep it with her after he has gone. He will go he always does. His eyelashes are low, he scans her from above smiling is silent satisfaction. She is dreading the sigh he will shortly exhale. It is coming, she knows that, but she tries to push it to the back of her mind. Taking in every sense of this moment her hands brush down his naked skin feeling every imperfection that makes him who he is.

The heady smell of them fills the room, it feels hot against their bodies. She wants to shake it off and feel light again. To smooth away the wrinkles that adorn the relationship so that it is pure. It can't be done though. Even hidden in their own private bubble the real world continues to push against the sides threatening to burst it.

He moves to look at her properly. Bringing his hand to brush a stray hair away from her face so that he can gaze into her eyes without distraction. It feels like an invisible bolt connects them through the look that they give each other. So much that they want to say without any real need to say it. Eyes give away so much, the love, passion and happiness is tinged with the guilt and longing that being together brings. Their emotions always seem so acute just before they part. Everything that is bottled up normally bubbles to the surface yet neither wants to break the spell and bring themselves back to earth.

It has to be broken, he shifts slightly to look at his watch causing her to squeeze her eyes shut. Kissing her forehead he moves away from her causing cold air to rush against her chest raising goosebumps against her flesh. She watches him move towards his clothes, a routine that she had become used to. She pulls the covers over her head to block it out and he sighs deeply turning away from her. It seems like only moments ago that he had knocked on the door. Time has its own rules when they are together.

When she lifts her head out of the covers he is slotting his cuff links through his shirt. He shoots her a look full of remorse and slowly strides back to the bed. The mattress sinks under his weight causing her body to roll towards him. He apologizes, makes his promises, she listens and it feels better. They had both been thinking the same, the fact that soon he would be in someone else's arms always made saying goodbye that much harder. She knew that he would have to get her scent off him, that he would have to shake himself back into everyday life, a life that didn't include her. She would have to close her mind to it all. The idea would always be worse than the reality. They would see each other soon, both would count the moments until they did.

She got out of bed and dragged her dress over her head. She always tried to do this as quickly as she could. It was almost as though putting clothes on signified the bursting of the bubble and stepping back into who they were. He looked almost alien in his suit, gone was the vulnerability of a few moments before. They left the room together, holding hands to to door.

The goodbye was quick, no kisses in case they were seen. Tears burned at her eyes as she walked away from him, unable to look back and see the pain on his face. It wouldn't be long till they had to do it all again.