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Lying on a couch. Arms wrapped around. I tell him I’m scared. He whispers that he’ll protect me. He hovers above me, stealing kisses, gently touching my face, saying nothing but speaking volumes. Time feels still, but it is running short. There is a sense of danger around us, out in the world, and we are part of it. Part of a war; we can’t hide away forever. Words like family, home, responsibility float around us, threatening to break the calm we’ve captured. I’ve never needed protecting. Never needed to protect anyone. But love has a way of spinning people about. Changing things. I feel the moment slipping away, watch as the last of him fades, and I ache for what has never been.