She laughs

There are times in life when you feel like nothing can go wrong. Absolutely nothing. It was a night of that kind. As she snuggled into my arms expecting me to shield her from the cold wind blowing into the auto, I called out her nickname.

“Hmmm?” she quizzed as she slowly swung her face upward, her head still on my chest.

I looked back into her eyes for a moment and asked, “What are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and she slid back into my chest, “…but it feels good.”

I saw the sparse tree-line whizzing by, as the auto drove on. My thoughts wandered off to the weeks before tonight. A petite girl in the office cafeteria, trying to balance the teacup in her hand as she walked towards her inviting friends. She placed her teacup on the table.

“Sir? Your sandwich is ready.”

“Um, oh! Thanks!!” I came out of my momentary stare-fest and paid for my sandwich. I walked back to my table, still feeling a little flustered.

As I took my seat I gave another fleeting look in her direction. She was looking at me. I smiled. She laughed.

“Do you know her?” I asked my colleague, like every guy who expects a connection to magically appear. He did know her though.

A brief introduction followed. Then conversations. Lunches. Dinners. Movies.

Then on one hot Sunday afternoon, I had confessed I liked her. She had just laughed. Then she had told me she didn’t want to be in a relationship. “Let’s be friends, for now.” And she had kept laughing.

Then tonight had happened. We were out drinking. A few drinks later, she was hugging me. To say that I wasn’t feeling good about it would be a lie. I did feel good.

We had hired an auto just outside the pub. As we took our seats inside the auto, I had noticed she was holding my hand. The auto started and she had leaned her head against my chest. I had opened my arms and let her rest her head on my chest….

A rogue speed breaker brought me back to the present and I looked around to realise it was very late. The shops had their shutters down. Dwellers were far and few.

“Hey, you still have to give me a kiss. Remember?” I joked as she straightened up into a sitting position.

“Kiss? What kiss?” she asked with a half-smile.

“Yeah, for the bet we had. You agreed to give me a kiss if I could fool you on April’s Fool. And I did.” I smirked.

“Kiss you? No way!” she shook her head as she laughed.

“Of course. Kiss on my lips. That was the deal.”

“Cheek. It was cheek.”

“No. Lips.”

“Cheek…”

“Li…”

And we were kissing, pressing our bodies against each other. Her lips had a hint of the beer she had earlier. The smell of her lipstick still lingering. I knew this was wrong, but at the moment, it felt so right.

We kissed the whole way back to her place. The auto stopped at traffic signals and people stared at us. Yet we kept kissing. And I kept kissing. Because tomorrow, we’ll be back to being friends. Tomorrow, she will wake up, give me a call and tell me she’s sorry. Sorry that she kissed me. Sorry that she gave me the impression she loves me.

But tonight, she loves me. I even find myself believing briefly that she will still love me tomorrow. Like every time she has kissed me in the past. And every time she has been sorry the next day for kissing me.

I drop her to her house and she kisses me goodbye. I smile at her as she opens the gate and finally disappears. She laughs. She always laughs.