Touko knows that this isn't going to last. Nothing lasts with Amon. People, words, places, they slide off him like water. Things don't touch Amon the way they touch other people. Even she doesn't touch Amon, no matter how many times she slides her fingers across his skin.
He lays in her bed, almost asleep. He's not going to stay now. He's like smoke, he's impossible to catch. And yet she keeps running ….
She strokes his hair. She hopes he stays all night, even though he won't, even though it'll just make it hurt worse in the morning.
It's amazing her that the more of him she gets, the emptier she feels.