Prelude to nothing

In response to prompt I:

It had grown late. The approaching sun weighed heavily upon the dimly lit room, now empty of the many people it had lately accommodated. I sat in a Victorian chair near an empty cabinet that had once been filled with the crystal glasses now littering the tables. Someone faintly played a piano near the hall. A few individuals remained, solitary yet paired, lost in one another's stupified talk. I and she were alone. She lounged on a sofa in the midst of the evening's litter and ash, for which she or someone under her instruction would, the following morning, be responsible.

She stood. She began to wander quietly through the room, assessing the scene. She glanced at me, but made no effort to rid the room of stragglers.

I stood. I half-smiled at her, I stood beside her and looked into the distance. She did not move. With my right arm I brushed her left arm, I moved my hand to her back. She turned to face me and commented on the layer of smoke that had settled among the chairs.

I brought my left hand to her waist and pulled my arms toward me until she was forced to step closer. I stared at her and kissed her.

She kissed me as well, I am certain.

---

She turned her head aside and twisted her body free of my embrace. She looked at me with an animal in her eyes.

I stepped back. I smiled in the manner in which I thought I would have smiled if nothing had happened. I returned to the chair as she manipulated an empty glass in her agitated hand. I sat, I looked at her as if looking at a foolish child. She lit a cigarette and walked elegantly away.