He planted the softest of kisses on her lips. Staring at her for a mere moment, he took in all of her. Every curve, every line. She was his and he could not believe he was so lucky. She loved him, he knew that. Yet, he was about to do something that could never be undone. Forever, their relationship would be altered. Would she forgive him? Probably not. Would she hate him? Perhaps. But whatever was to come of his actions, he was determined to not regret them; this was something he had to do. So, it was with a slow intake of her fragrance, and a long exhale of his past life, he walked away. He wanted to forget her, if for no other reason than for the pain to subside. But he could not, he would not, not even in the trenches, not even in the middle of the night when he could not sleep, not even when the noise of war surrounded him. She would always be a part of him and he would go to the grave loving her.