Instant Decisions

Just back from the concert, she was still high on music. The notes playing in her head, her feet tapping to rhythm, she changed out of the sexy into the comfy. Clothes, that is. She had had fun that night, pure fun, after a long time. An evening out with friends, listening to good music, followed by Biryani and awesome conversation at her favourite restaurant. She knew this evening was blogworthy and so she sat down to write.
Just back from the concert, he was still reeling from the experience. His eyes spotted her from afar as she made her way to him. All chic in white, she had him at "Hi!". He had felt it instantly. His eyes followed her all evening. As she took his hand possessively and made her way all the way to the front, as she laughed out loud uninhibited, as she chattered incessantly over dinner. He watched her now as she settled down on her favorite corner of the bed, her lips curled in a smile, her eyes crinkling into his laptop, her fingers typing furiously.
She looked up at him, as he came and sat down beside her, apologising about having taken over his laptop. He said he dint mind and immersed himself into the book he was trying to finish. She noticed him looking at her, and smiled back at him. All the while, she kept talking, telling him random things. He put the book aside and looked over her shoulder into the screen. He liked what she wrote, loved the inherent honesty in her words, the ease with which they flowed.
The only light in the room was the one emanating from the laptop, reflecting on the walls. They both looked at the screen, she writing, him reading. She finished the piece she was writing and asked him what he thought. He took her hand and traced out her fingers. She told him about the prophecies made by a novice palmistry guy. He immediately rebuked her from letting people play with the lines on her palm.
She ignored what he said and started writing another piece. He kept playing with the fingers of her left hand. And then she read out the line she had written, "Do we really stand a chance?", looking up at him expecting a comment. He stared right into her eyes and asked. "Do we?" It took her a moment to realise what he had asked. Slowly, she smiled and looked back at the screen.
He refused to let go of her hand, in a way trying to fuse their souls through the intertwined fingers. She did not even make an effort to free her hand. She sat there, going over the last few weeks. How she had bared her soul to him, vocalising things that she had been afraid to admit even to herself. How he had not judged her even on her darkest misdeeds, had always egged her to move on in life. She saw him now, waiting patiently to hear her say what he was confident she would say.
She smiled at him and his eyes lit up. He bent forward and hesitantly brushed her lips with his, putting slight pressure when not met by resistance. She moved back, and studied his face. She looked at her fingers, entwined in his. And then the softly-spoken words again, "Do we?"
In that moment, that exact moment, she knew. They were not meant to be. So she smiled back at him, held him close to her, softening the blow as much as she could. And into his ears, she whispered, "Not in this lifetime, we dont."