He reaches out to touch my back, the curve of my waist. He climbs onto the bed and kisses the back of my neck. He moves on top of me and presses himself against me, and I hear his breathing shift and become full of desire.

He turns me over and his mouth is on me and his fingers are in me. I reach out for him, but he gently pushes me away and continues.

The gulls wheeling in the sky outside of his seventh floor apartment. The mountains shrouded in clouds.

Beside the bed are our bags, packed for Japan.

The day before, watching his face as he reads the card that I made for him for Valentine's Day. The cut-out hearts of pink and red construction paper. I wrote out a paragraph from here, my words reworked and printed out in square small caps. I see emotions well up inside of him. I yearn for him to form the feelings into words, but he doesn't say anything and instead pulls me into a tight embrace and kisses me over and over.

The taxi arrives and we put our luggage in the back.

“Where are you going?” the driver asks.