The scent of rosemary and fear hung heavy in the air. A final, desperate hug given at the checkpoint, knowing this might be the last. The gate is not made of metal, but of irreversible parting. The embrace lingers, a physical imprint of love and agony, forever suspended in time. It is a moment of pure, unbearable devotion before one walks toward danger and the other is left with endless, aching solitude.
