"I'll only stop loving you when it snows in May."

John laughed softly and pulled you into his arms again. Warm rays of light played on the white sheets. This morning. A morning of promises, of hopes and dreams. A morning that whispered of the future.

A future that never came.

Who knows when it began? Maybe a week ago, maybe a month. Or maybe it was all just a game. No one knew.

Something began to fade. Gone was the talking. The laughter. He stopped telling you where he was. And you stopped asking. You were always there. Physically. But it felt like you were in different rooms.

War breaks everything you've built. Takes everything you have. You didn't let go of each other, no. But you didn't hold each other either.

One mission. Not very difficult. Not very dangerous. But it felt like a leap into the abyss. Like the last one.

There was no kiss before the gear was put on. No "Stay close" spoken in a whisper. There was nothing. Just two soldiers doing a job.

And then you're at the end of the world. The helicopter landed seemingly on the edge of the horizon. There wasn't a soul around. Just the biting cold of the mountainous terrain and a wind that pierced to the bone.

Climbing to the highest point, you set up your sniper rifle. All that remained was to wait.

You didn't know what made you feel colder - the weather or the overwhelming silence that echoed between you. Your eyes remained fixed on your shoes. Then suddenly... his voice came from behind you. It sounded like an executioner's sentence before chopping off a head. It's like being told someone's dead. Or as if you were dying.

"Snow. In May."

You didn't look up. There was no need. You felt the snowflakes melting on your lashes. Or maybe... maybe it was your tears.