Leave
The light of the moon reflected from his face. He was crying, but he didn't know that I knew, I always knew. His blond fringe fell in his emerald eyes, puffing and turning red as the salty tears burned his lids. He closed his eyes and let a tear escape, I sat on the bed and watched him, murmering softly for him not to leave. He would. He always did. But it wasn't like I'd never see him again. I heard him sigh, and I couldn't help but return the gesture, shifting within my sheets to manouver and pull it properly around me. I stood, he inched towards the window more, having me frown and fold my arms beneath the sweat-clad sheets, falling to take a seat once more. He sniffled, his silhouetted rubbing his eyes, so I looked away.
"Go on now." I whispered, but no matter how softly my words spoke, they achoed around the sickeningly silent room. "Leave."
His other leg swung over the window sill, his combat boots hitting the awning. His fingers grasped the silk curtains, and he inhaled, as though he was trying to preserve my scene for a moment or so longer, and then he was gone. Darting out into the late hours of the night, clad in his punk clothing, his mascara running down his tear-stained cheeks, as he'd walk and walk to try and forget the night we spent. Like every night. But like everyone following night, I knew he'd return.