run.

He knew she was trying not to cry, and failing miserably. Though she didn’t sniff or wipe a hand under her eyes, she avoided his gaze and turned away, staring sightlessly out the window at the darkness of night while the tears ran soundlessly down her cheeks.

He crossed the room to stand behind her, laid his hands on his shoulders, then slipped them around her and, as he always had, held on for just a few moments too long, so that she melted into him. He kissed the top of her head, then rested his own on her shoulder.

“You know I have to go,” he murmured.

Because she didn’t trust herself to speak yet, she only nodded. But she leaned further into him, conveying without words how she felt.

With his own heart breaking, but understanding smoothing out the roughest edges of the wounds, he turned her into his arms and gently kissed her, tasting the salt of her tears at the corners of her mouth and feeling her arms go around him and hold on tight. His hands rested lightly at her hips and steered her gently towards the bed, allowing her to stop if she wanted to. She laid back and drew him down with her, though, apparently wanting this one night of closeness, this final goodbye, as much he did.

Slowly, like a dance remembered, they undressed each other, taking the time to taste every inch of skin because they knew the separation ahead would be a long one. Hands moved over bared skin as though touching for the first time, and yet as though it had been done hundreds of times before; mouths brushed and lingered and trembled on sighs.

When they came together, it was unhurried and fluid, the slow slide of flesh on flesh as they moved with each other, their eyes open and aware and locked to the other’s. And when she trembled, when she moaned low in her throat and slid over the peak, he buried his face in her hair and let her take him with her.

---------------------

Morning came too soon. She stood beside him at the train station, biting her lip and wishing she didn’t have to say goodbye. Finally the only answer was to move into his arms and hold on as tightly as she could.

“Don’t lose hope,” he murmured in her ear when he felt the tears dampen his collar. “I won’t ever leave you. I’ll always be there, even when you can’t hear my voice. I want you to promise me you won’t lose that light in your eyes while I’m away, that you’ll remember the good things in life.”

She nodded and brought the tears under control by sheer force of will. “I promise,” she whispered.

“Good. No matter how long this runs, we’ll see each other again. I believe that.”

She nodded again, because the lump in her throat prevented her from uttering any form of speech. People were climbing onto the train; she stepped back to allow him to join them. He had walked three feet before she called his name, ran towards him and flung herself into his arms for one last, long, desperate kiss.

“I have to go,” he mumbled reluctantly. She quickly stepped back, her eyes bright and her mouth curved out of sheer determination. She would not send him away with the image of her tear-streaked face in his memory.

“Come back to me,” she urged, and her voice was thick.

“I will,” he promised. “All you need to do is call for me.” He squeezed her hand, then turned and walked away, using all his willpower not to give in to tears of his own.

I’ll see her again, he promised himself.

He’ll come back, she swore silently.

---------------------

So, if the title doesn’t make any sense, you can know that it was given because this one-shot is sort of inspired by Snow Patrol’s “Run”. It makes me think of two people being separated for a long time, so that’s how I wrote this—it’s not directly mentioned, but it’s the point of view of a soldier leaving for war the next day. I left it general so that it could be anything from World War I to the war in Iraq, however you choose to interpret it. Oh, and yes, it’s another new one-shot when I could be updating my other stuff. Sue me. Certain songs just encourage me to write about them. This one’s short, a little over five hundred words, so it shouldn’t have taken long to read—and therefore, by process of elimination, you can use this extra time to review.

Hey, I try. Here, have a soft drink and some Oreos. My munchies of choice for the night.

— Murphy (who is now going to bed because it's like 2 a.m.. Whoops!)