Very quietly she slides out of bed and looks back for a moment. What a wonderful night that was. To never forget. She stares at his face, taking in every line. It's like she hasn't done anything but look at his face for years. It feels so familiar, so familiar and familiar. Even in his sleep it seems as if he is still close to her. As if he's just lying there with his eyes closed, watching every moment of the past hours very slowly behind his closed eyelids. His face is totally relaxed and his mouth still has a contented smile. Yes, he's asleep and it's all too clear to her where his thoughts are right now. She lets her eyes go further and tries to take it all in. His bushy eyebrows, the little scar on his cheek, his big earlobe. Everything she sees is equally dear to her. And there's so much to love about that big body that's now in front of her. The sheets of the bed have become one big mess and he lies there totally relaxed being the great innocence. A greater contrast to just before is almost impossible. She knows what she saw, but she also knows that when he wakes up tomorrow nothing will exist of it. As much as she still wants to stay with him and use every second to enjoy him, she can't anymore. She wants to be gone before he wakes up and his eyes start avoiding her again. She wants to hold on to the memories as she experienced them and not let anything cloud them. She looks around the room one last time and catches a glimpse of the overall picture in the mirror of the linen closet. Despite the lack of light, she clearly sees her dream reflected. No, it wasn't a dream. She hasn't imagined anything, but the reality is also that this time she's the one who has to go. Softly she walks to the door and closes her hand on the handle. Only a few more steps before the door closes behind her. She doesn't want to, but she walks on anyway and doesn't look back.