The thing I remember most is his scent.
There was a light touch of cologne, a bare hint of the last cigarette he had smoked (just a trifle, with all the sweetness of fresh tobacco and none of the acrid burn of the ashes), and the light musk of his sweat. None of it was noticeable until I was close to him, but once I was I drank it in as deeply as I could, nuzzling closer to his neck in order to get it all at once. It was utterly intoxicating, and maddening, and made the parting that much more difficult.