'I'm sorry,' he said.
'I know,' she said.
The glass started fogging from their heated breaths and she started to cry. She pressed her face to the window and her tears drew paths in the flat mist. No matter how she pounded and grabbed or clawed at the glass, it wouldn't break or even soften to just let her touch him. His voice was soft in her ear, she could barely hear him. The phone was slipping through her fingers. She kept breathing heavily, almost panting; her heart was beating too hard for her to handle.
He watched her with droopy eyes, swollen from crying in the night. Gulp after gulp, he tried to swallow the regret, but it was forever stuck in his throat. He knew she wouldn't forgive him for what he did, and there was no way she could wait that long.
As her sobs ceased she leveled herself with him. She put a firm grip around the phone and whispered sharply into it, eyeing his quivering lips.
'I'm coming after you,' she said.
'I know,' he said.
(photo via AnOthermag.com)
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