I feel his kiss more intensely now, in the darkness of the room where his sister died. In the quiet of the house where his family died. In the stillness of the world where the life we knew before the Arrival died. He tastes my tears before I can feel them. Where there would be tears, his kiss. "I didn't save you, " he whispered, lips tickling my eyelashes. "You saved me." He repeats it over and over until we fall asleep pressed against each other, his voice in my ear, my tears in his mouth, "You saved me.
