Fated to be yours

The rain had stopped just an hour before the concert, drenching the city in a glow of light. Every streetlight glimmered on the wet pavement, and there was the lingering scent of dirt and coffee in the air as Ella entered the music hall. She hadn't really planned to be there,a coworker had an extra ticket, and she had consented in general because to refuse would be to spend another evening home alone with herself. The air within vibrated softly with the sound of tuning instruments, the hall was not big , a small, dimly lit room with hardwood floors and candelabras that threw soft light and made all things seem less sharp. The hum of anticipation hung on the air, people spoke in hushed tones, laughter fermented in isolated spots, and Ella found an empty seat near the rear. Stage lights got dimmed and for a moment, quiet oppressed each heart within. Suddenly, the beginning notes of a guitar stroked the air, very slow, sorrowful, piercing the heart with it sound, it was alive. What followed was a rough, unflinching voice singing of loss and returning home. She tightened her chest, apparently, music had always been like that for her, touched places words could not. Her gaze roamed the room, not really scanning for anyone, but coming , unexpectedly, sighting a stranger seated several rows in front of her. He was not moving, not swaying like the others, but listening. There was something in the tilt of his shoulders forward, the tilt of his head, that resonated with the way she felt, as if he heard every words. The song finished with gentle claps and screams. Ella breathed, for the first time in months, she was present , not stuck on what she'd lost, not counting down the days since it was over. Just present, breathing in melody and peace still.

During the short break, people made their way to the bar for drinks. Therefore, Ella stayed in her seat, she had came alone, mindlessly scrolling on her phone, until a baritone voice from down the aisle called out.

"Is this seat taken?"

She looked up. It was him, the man in the row in front. Up close, he had the quiet kind of presence, the kind that didn't draw attention but still drew it. His eyes were unflustered, deep brown, and tired in a way that was recognizable to her.

"No," she said quickly, pushing her bag aside. "Go on."

He smiled small and sincere, and sat beside her.

They're fine," he murmured, leaning his head toward the stage. "The band."

"Yeah," Ella replied. "It's been a while since I've heard live music. I forgot how it feels."

He tilted his head. "How it feels?" She hesitated. "Like someone's reading your diary out loud but somehow, you don't mind."

He smiled softly. "That's actually perfect."

A silence , a comfortable one, to her surprise. He extended his hand. "I'm Nathan."

"Ella."

The lights dimmed again before they could talk again. The next performance emerged on stage, a couple, voices blending like smoke and illumination. Nathan leaned forward slightly, elbows on knees, straining to hear. Ella found herself glancing at him in the light of the stage, the turn of attention on his face, the way he seemed both tough and breakable. Midway through the set, a soft piano melody began, a kind you call bittersweet, lamenting. The singer's voice sang of starting over, of love coming back with the dawn, Ella sighed, not intending to. Nathan turned, just a glance, and their eyes clashed in the darkness. He did not look away immediately, neither did she. Something had passed between them, not exactly recognition, not exactly curiosity, but something that hummed quietly under her ribs. When the last notes faded away, there was applause again, and both of them blinked back into reality.

"Beautiful," he whispered.

"Yeah," she said, "It really was." When the last performance ushered the evening to its end, people began to rise, grabbing coats and chats. Outside, the town had cooled, the air having the soft after rain freshness. Ella tied her scarf at her throat and walked into the streetlight rays, she heard a name called from behind her, "Hey, Ella," She faced around, Nathan stood there, hands pushed into pockets, that same easy smile on his lips. "You parked this way?"

She nodded. "Yeah, just down the block."

"Mind if I walk with you?" He said it airily, but his tone contained something soft, reserved, as if he were asking for something more than a stroll.

"Sure," she said. They walked, side by side, along the deserted street, the sound of distant cars blended with the distant resonance of music still ringing in their ears.

"I almost didn't come tonight," he started, "I've been... avoiding things like this."

"Same," she had said, "Sometimes it's easier not to feel anything at all." He'd looked at her then, studying the curve of her face in the golden amber light, "but you came anyway."

She smiled gently,"Yeah, guess I got sick of silence."

They reached the corner where their paths would split, for a moment, neither of them spoke. Nathan scratched the back of his neck, unsure, "Maybe we'll see each other again," he said.

Perhaps," she answered, even though something within her wished it was only perhaps.

He stopped, then made a faint wave. "Goodnight, Ella."

"Goodnight, Nathan," He had turned away, and she held her bag tightly, watching the shadowy outline of his figure in the puddled streetlight.

Nathan, on his way home got his mind thinking about Ella, maybe she's the right and perfect person for him. His last heartbreak frustrated his life ,It made him afraid to love again, but anytime he remembers Ella's pretty face he believes there's a love that's true and genuine.

He couldn't sleep but at least he disposed the thinking

The night was still very silent, but not longer empty. She couldn't say why, but she breathed a word to herself, under her breath,

"Maybe that's what healing sounds like."