The soft hum of the evening drifted outside the window, carrying the echo of the vehicles and pedestrians far below the apartment. The last of the orange sunlight had long dipped below the horizon as night began.
In the warm hush of the bedroom, Lariette and Ruediger lay tangled in each other's arms, the remnants of passion lingering in the air. The bedsheet was a mess, and so was the floor where clothes were scattered.
Ruediger wrapped one arm loosely around Lariette's waist, his fingertips brushing the curve of her hip lazily. She nestled closely to him, her cheek resting against his chest, feeling the soft rise and fall of his breath.
The wall clock ticked softly, the needles pointing to a quarter past seven.
Lariette's half-lidded eyes stared at the mark she left on Ruediger's chest, right above his beating heart. Her voice was quiet, almost reluctant as she whispered, "You're leaving tomorrow."
