“You came back,” he says, whether in appreciation or admonishment I cannot tell. “Of course I did, you fool.” I kiss him gently, quickly, a desperate press of lips and breath. Cradling his heavy head in my hand, I touch my forehead to his. “I left my heart here.” “That’s all right.” A languid smile spreads across his parched lips. He does not seem entirely conscious, but still manages to murmur back, “You can have mine.”
