She sat on the bench near the river. When he came nearer, a hint of sadness appeared in her bleak eyes. She could smell his scent right before she heard him coming. She pressed her lips together, didn't look at him, when he sat down right beside her. She could hear him breathing. Calmly he said her name. She didn't answer, took away the hand on which he'd tried to lay his own. When he stood up and knelt infront of her to look into her eyes, she stared right through him and then lowered her gaze. He sighed slightly. She could feel the pain inside his heart, but it wasn't her to erase this pain. He stood up again and stepped away. "You know I don't," she said with a frigid voice. The wind threw back a curly, reddish strand of her hair and she glanced at his face, full of grief, when she rose from her seat and walked away. In her mind she repeated the words, she'd said to him, over and over again.