The streets were full.
Full of music and people and laughter and shouting.
The red wine seeped through her; his hand was warmth in hers.
She was running, laughing, drunk on happiness and he was following,
holding on tight.
He stopped and pulled her back. Close to him. Her hands on his chest.
He kissed her nose. Then her lips.
Just for a second.
Then time speed up; the music, the lights, the sounds;
all happened too fast, too loud.
Another pub, the burst of heat walking in, the shouting orders over the noise.
Then running. The anticipation of catching the train home.
He kissed her again, held her face and looked into her eyes to remember.
A gust of wind and brakes squealing on the tracks. The doors opening.
His hand pressed against the window, wordless.
The rain gathered on her coat, as she watched him leave.