Then I spot a wooden bench, there for any tired travelers. I grab my key and get down on my knees and begin carving—V-A-L-E-N-T-I-N-O—as he takes a picture of me vandalizing the city. When I’m done with his name, he pulls out Scarlett’s home key and starts scratching mine into the bench. It doesn’t take him as long to finish. It all reads like one word: VALENTINORION I like how his O flows into mine, as if he’s passing it on along with his heart. I’ll take every letter and kiss and breath from him before it’s time to live without him.
valentinorion
