His hand moved in to touch her porcelain face, fingers intertwined with her scarlet red hair. Memories that would never fade. He had the appearance of a lost boy who had found love again. Amongst all odds, she was his. When he was with her, his eyes, once dark circles, became replaced with brightness and life. His soft skin, marked from the broken days, now remarkable scars of the past. He never imagined to feel the love that he she felt for him. He had never known love before. As they lie below the weeping jacaranda trees, hearing the bluebirds whisper to each other, they thought that life could never be any better. Them, together counting down the days they had left. Not wanting to say goodbye to another solider in battle. But before they knew it, their time was over. He had to leave.

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