My palms slap against the window.
I have to see him.
I have to let him see me.
And there he is.
My protector.
My man.
Running across the tarmac. Blood streaming from his leg. And agony covering his face.
“Hans!” I cry his name as my heart breaks for him.
I want to tell him not to worry.
I want to tell him that I trust him.
I want to tell him that this won’t be like before.
That no matter what happens, I don’t blame him.
I don’t regret knowing him.
Something sharp bites into my neck.
I’ll never regret loving him.
