Death of a Romance

The air was a bit restless. It was cold, but that meant nothing. It was 10:05. A sunday.
The day had gone well. His feelings were well-known to her, his adoration for her was inconcealable.
His heart was in his chest. Although he thought he understood his decision, in hindsight he would realize
that the next moments of his life would be the conception of his new reality. The next moments of his life
would forever alter the man he was to become. She knew he was naive. She knew from the beginning. She
tried to tell him, to forewarn him of the reprocussions. He never understood. There was never a chance.
Yet still, the air was restless. It was 10:06. He met her eyes and for one moment they arrived where so
many before them had gone. Everything they knew was in the balance, and for one true second of fate, the world
stopped around him. He leaned forward, her arms instantly fell upon his neck. For one split second, nothing
was defined. There was a solitary moment of hope for him. His one chance to find everything he would later come
to value over his own life was at hand. She paused. "This is a bad idea." His life was over.