At first, it was just the barest brush, the soft, warm press of her mouth against his, tasting faintly of salt from her tears. One droplet fell from her cheek and landed on his lower lip, warm and wet, before she deepened the contact. Her lips parted slightly, moving against his with a quiet desperation, as if she could pour every unsaid word, every stolen moment, every future they would never share into this single point of connection.
She kissed him like someone saying goodbye to the only home she had ever known, gentle, reverent, and devastatingly intimate.
