The rain beats down the two of you. But you could have cared less.

Because now he was leaving.

Now he was going far away from your reach.

Now the two of you would be separated. Your lips are pressed desperately on his, savoring his taste, wishing, willing, wanting for him to stay. Your arms wrap around his tightly, keeping him from pushing you away.

"Please," you whisper. "Don't go."

"(Name)-"

"Don't leave me," you beg.

"I'm sorry."