She looked at him. The way he spoke without much care in the world. The way he stared into her soul. Searching… like his searching for something he lost-in her. Love maybe ?? Could this be truly a confirmation, a nod to our love. Would this mean, finally he admits to himself-that, maybe, perhaps, he feels the same ?

With hesitation, she moved closer to him. Watching the movement of his lips as they spoke. Her ears muting him, her eyes studying him. His kind smile. His careless lack of attention to her gestures. His kind dismissive smirk. A gentle rejection perhaps? Could there be a bit of confusion.

She reached out to his hand. Nervously, moving it onto hers. Feeling the little resistance, her warm eyes and smile slowly softens him. Looking into his piercingly hazel eyes, “I love you,” she murmured unsure.

Afraid of embarrassment she pulled herself away-as if, whatever had possessed her, had left.

He pulled her close. Holding her hand, hugging her- as if he was happy one of them came out of the closet. Then- suddenly that warmth turned into a semi-friendly gesture. As he, himself step aside and

say, “we are just friend, Lana.” No hesitation. Certain. Sure and unwavering. “We are good friends,” he added.