"Don't leave me" she whispers softly with her heavy italian accent.
I sigh heavily and look away. It has to be this way. I have made up my mind.
I can't stay. She understands. I know she does.
Yet I see tears rolling down
her cheek. I know I should try to comfort her, tell her that everything is going
to be fine. But it would be a lie.
Gently I caress her perfect breasts and hear her familiar moaning. But it is a
moan of sadness, not of pleasure.
"I will email you" I whisper. She doesn't respond. She just looks at me with her
large brown eyes. I hug her hard.
She is also a traveller, I know she would have
done the same. I know she did the same when she left Italy. Maybe that's why she
is reacting so strongly now. Maybe she hadn't really realized what her
boyfriend in Italy felt when she left.
That thought doesn't give me any comfort. She is still sad because of me.
Her ever-smiling sunny face is now dark because of me. Because I am letting her
But I can't stay in London. My friends from home has already moved on. Life
here is just a constant reminder of the good times
we shared. The only one I have left is her. And I know she
too will be gone. She will soon ache to travel again. I could stay a few weeks
longer, but that would only make the inevitable seperation so much harder.
Suddenly she looks at me, tears gone from hear face. She flashes
a mischevious grin and I smile back.
"Cruel bastard" she whispers, before she covers me in kisses. I can only smile
at her incredibly sexy accent.