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.

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