He should’ve known better. He could never keep you, the elusive ghost slipping through his fingers every time you showed up. Even if your hearts burned for each other, it could never be. It became almost a routine, where you’d leave him all alone for what felt like a millionth time. He stared at your retreating figure with tears brimming at his lash line, his face an expression of longing. “You leave and you leave again…I thought you loved me,” he whispered, his voice breaking.