Perfect Time

He held her close to him. Brushing her wavy black hair through his fingers while she press her right cheek on his chest, feeling each thump of his heart beat.

He kissed her head, and whisphered sweet nottings. It was almost perfect. Almost. Because in reality, these moment they were having, are just stolen moments that in a few minutes, they have to leave each other's arms and say their goodbyes to each other.

Tears started to form on her eyes as she hear the voice echo, calling in all passengers to board the plane. She held him tight, not wanting to leave the warmth of his body. She held on to him, not wanting him to leave her.

He was called to serve the country and fight in a war. A war that she knows that will endanger his life.

He kept his face stoned and tried to stay strong for her. He doesn't want her to see his fear. His fear for the unknown. What might happen to him in the battle field. Instead he will keep in my mind that he will fight until the day he returns. For her.

He pushed her slowly. but she kept on holding on. He pushed her more, even if it hurts him. A sob blurts out of her mouth and tears started falling from her eyes. The inevitable is near. He has to go. He have to leave.