Wishful.

The stars twinkled and she could almost almost see them reflected in his eyes. They shone in the glasses half-filled with Coke. Voices of the night enveloped them as they stared up at the sky. It had stopped raining late in the afternoon and the sky had cleared out.

It was cold outside. But still warmer than when they were freezing in the AC, but neither of them had a problem with that. It was mandatory. It was habit.

They had studied all day. They were tired. And now they lay, out on the roof. Exhausted. It was almost a quarter to ten. The floor of the roof felt cold even through the blanket they'd spread out.

Her fingers played with the thin layer of dust on the floor. And he let out a sigh of relief. Her hair were half sprawled on the floor. They were a sharp contrast against the off-white marble. And they were long. Longer than they were 3 months ago. He stretched out and flipped over.

An ant found its way to her hair and attempted to reach her face.. he flicked it off. And smiled at her. She smiled back and returned to looking at the sky. She slowly closed her eyes and turned her face away from him.

He thought about how soft her hair was as he twirled a lock of her hair around his fingers. It went round and round.. and then he saw her looking at him. He turned away and folded his arms.

He tried not to wonder. He tried not to stare. It was not as if he didn't like her..

On the blanket, smelling the rain, looking at the sky, glasses of coke, having the time of their life. She stuffed the last popcorn left in the bowl and laughed at him. He didn't care. All he cared for, was at that very moment, stuck in time, was for her to be happy. For her to be mine, he thought. Can she be mine? Will she be mine?

He lodged his hands behind his head and wondered. Thoughts raced, skipped and jumped through his mind and he lay there, still, unmoving. Heart thumping. Words fumbling in his brain. Ideas buzzing around.. strewn all over the place.

And as it started, it shut down in a fraction of a second. He thought of nothing. Nothing. Didn't even want to think about it. Then she started to talk about a book she'd read the other day. And how some characted reminded her of him. She giggled and he noticed, for the hundredeth time maybe, how the corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled.

Moments passed.

His hair looked nice, they always did. And as if one cue he ran his hands through his hair, goind halfway and then all the way, then to his side. Like he always did, it was almost his trademark. And then he scatrched his nose and smiled.

She fished out her i-pod from her pocket and took a second to admire her immaculate shiny black nails. The earphones thumped to life and she tried ineffectively to ignore her emotions and was suddenly reminded of how this song used to remind her of someone.. someone who was with her right now.

Someone who was probably thinking about something as trivial as what he'd have for dinner today. She pulled at tugged at her thoughts to keep them from straying but her will power was never known to be strong.

She stared at knees of his jeans, it was the perfect shade of blue, worn-out and old. Torn at some places. It was his favourite. His brown eyes looked pensive, the best they could look. Not that they were anything less, anytime else..

While he contemplated if he was going insane or something else as unlikely.. he was never the one to carry his heart on his sleeve.. and he never would be. Well, if she liked him back, she'll tell him, that's for sure, he thought. He's not a teller.

Thumping music drowned out her heartbeat somewhat and and tried to supress her feelings, and it was hard. She'd accepted long ago that nothing was going to come out of coming right out with emotions. Intense emotions. She'd never freaked anyone out. And neither did she want to, ever.

Ofcourse, the fact that she liked him from the moment they talked the first time wasn't of much special importance when she thought about it. That's the difference between what actually happens and what we want to see happen.

They were friends. That should be good enough. She tried to dissipate her thoughts by going back to reality, to what was happenind in the god-forsaken real world.

She said something, he couldn't quite hear what she said..

"Huh?" And he leaned in, while she repeated. And she laughed again.

He didn't listen in. Again. Instead, he leaned in a bit more. And he smelled her hair. It was enticing. He couldn't quite place the fragrance.. it was something between citrusy and a sweet sharpness.. and her skin, it smelled earthy..

He pulled himself back, took a deep breath.. and started humming a song. And he lightly beat his head on the floor. Inconpicuously. She whistled a tune. The same tune. They had the same tune. They were tuned. In. As he thought this, he wondered about what he was turning into.

And there they lay, oblivious to each other's feelings, turning over in their mind thoughts unsaid. Well, someone did say some things were better left unsaid.

A perfect example was when both pondered, and weighed and rejected the idea but still proclaimed to their parallel best friends in parallel worlds in parallel alien languages, they said the three words and sealed their lips to fate.

Time wore on. She offered an earphone to him. He was about to ask for it anyway. As the song ended.. they felt that it was time already.

She stuffed back the ipod into her pocket. He grabbed his shoes. And asking each other, "Dinner?" "I'm hungry." "You're always hungry.".. they got up, straightened and headed downstairs.

The empty glasses and bowls were left there. It was mandatory. It didn't matter. It was habit.