"Don't leave me" she whispers softly with her heavy italian accent. I sigh heavily and look away. It has to be this way. I have made up my mind. I can't stay. She understands. I know she does.

Yet I see tears rolling down her cheek. I know I should try to comfort her, tell her that everything is going to be fine. But it would be a lie.

Gently I caress her perfect breasts and hear her familiar moaning. But it is a moan of sadness, not of pleasure.
"I will email you" I whisper. She doesn't respond. She just looks at me with her large brown eyes. I hug her hard.

She is also a traveller, I know she would have done the same. I know she did the same when she left Italy. Maybe that's why she is reacting so strongly now. Maybe she hadn't really realized what her boyfriend in Italy felt when she left. That thought doesn't give me any comfort. She is still sad because of me. Her ever-smiling sunny face is now dark because of me. Because I am letting her down.

But I can't stay in London. My friends from home has already moved on. Life here is just a constant reminder of the good times we shared. The only one I have left is her. And I know she too will be gone. She will soon ache to travel again. I could stay a few weeks longer, but that would only make the inevitable seperation so much harder.

Suddenly she looks at me, tears gone from hear face. She flashes a mischevious grin and I smile back.
"Cruel bastard" she whispers, before she covers me in kisses. I can only smile at her incredibly sexy accent.