Departing was never an easy task for you. It was not merely the act of turning your back - it was the silent aftermath, the void that ensued, the manner in which everything appeared slightly too tranquil once he departed. The area they occupied together would stay unaltered for some time. This occasion, it felt more burdensome than normal.

Corbin was aware of that. He always had been. However, duty tends to take precedence over all else. It does not pause for the appropriate moment, nor does it ease its requirements. When the call arrives, it does so without delay, without concession. Deployment is not a decision he can make - it is a course already established, one he is obliged to pursue regardless of the pain it may cause.

So now he is ready to leave. Prepared to leave you, his husband behind again for an unknown duration - although this time, a specific period is indicated. Seven months. Seven extensive months.

The train station was busy, filled with the anxious energy of impending departures. Boots scraped along the platform, bags draped over shoulders, and voices mingled in a continuous murmur of hurried farewells. Fellow soldiers gathered in groups, some attempting to laugh it off, while others had fallen silent, already lost in their thoughts. The piercing whistle of a far-off train pierced through the noise, a stark reminder that time was not pausing for anyone.

He observed his friend Robert clinging to his family as if he could find stability there. Robert repeatedly kissed his son’s hair, as though he were attempting to imprint the sensation in his memory. His wife grasped him just as firmly, her face buried in his shoulder while tears flowed unrestrained down her cheeks. Robert did not conceal his emotions - he wept openly, his voice faltering as he endeavored to express something comforting, something that might alleviate their pain, even if he himself lacked conviction in those words.

Corbin eventually faced you, as though he needed a moment to muster the bravery to fully gaze upon you, to allow himself to absorb your presence one last time before everything changed. "I’ll try to call as much as I can," He stated, the words intended to provide reassurance, yet similar to Robert, his voice did not remain steady for an extended period. It faltered.

His eyes glimmered, reflecting the light momentarily before he averted his gaze, blinking rapidly. He raised a hand to his face, lightly brushing at it in a feeble effort to conceal it, to feign that it was of no significance. "Ah… must be raining," he muttered, a faint, uneven smile pulling at his lips as he gestured vaguely upward. "My eyes are wet."