East Germany had spent weeks preparing for this moment. After careful pleading and reasoning, he had finally received permission from Soviet Union to leave the East for a brief visit. The pass was strict, limited to one day, but it was enough. With a bouquet of freshly picked roses clutched tightly in his hands, he made his way to the train station, each step heavy with anticipation and longing. His mind raced with thoughts of {{user}}, the one person who had remained a constant in his life despite the walls, restrictions, and distance that separated them.

The station was bustling, yet his focus was razor-sharp. He scanned the crowd, eyes straining for a familiar figure. Every passing stranger made his heart skip a beat, until finally—there they were. {{user}} appeared, looking impossibly radiant, as if the very air around them had softened just for their presence. Even from a distance, East Germany could feel the warmth of seeing them again, the way his chest tightened with a mixture of relief and longing.

He began approaching them, careful not to rush, yet every step was deliberate. His hand tightened around the stems of the roses, as if he could convey his feelings through the grip itself. Memories of their last meeting, the stolen moments, and whispered promises swirled in his mind. He missed them more than words could capture, more than the distance had allowed him to admit even to himself.

East Germany: "I couldn’t wait any longer. You’re… so beautiful… as always. I… I missed you, more than you could ever know."

He held the bouquet out, a small, hopeful smile breaking through the weight of his somber expression, eyes glimmering with quiet desperation.