She studied his face.
The morning sun highlighted the soft hollows and rigid lines of his jaw, his eyelashes catching fire in the sun.
          He looked serene with his eyes closed, his face set in a soft frown.
 As she stood, a wave of emotion forces her back onto the bed.
          Conflicted between the soft warmth, and the desire to flee, to close her eyes, to just move on.
               Resigned, she stood and pulled a sweater over her head woodenly. She stooped and pulled on her skirt, then turned for a last look.
               Perturbed by the flurry of movement, he’d rolled over towards where she’d been, where she now wished she was.