A subtle kiss that no-one sees.

To be lost. To be waiting and wanting to be found. To feel adrift in the ebb and tide of life, and to aimlessly wander through streets that, though they may be packed with other souls, still feel deserted nonetheless.
All this was a feeling they had inside : it had crept into their core, nestled there, and refused to let go. A feeling they shared, even though years kept them apart, even though life had taken them down wholly different and divergent paths in the past. And so they endured, with this feeling and all, through what could only be described as a vast solitude of age.
So it came to pass that one day, and years hence from the moment they last saw each other, they would wake up one morning feeling as if the greatest weight in the world had been slightly eased from off of their shoulders. Oh, it was still there, but something - somehow - made it that much easier to bear, at least for a while.
The girl had bought a new dress some weeks ago, but had never worn it. She told herself that she was saving it for a special occasion, but now, and as she held it in her hands after having taken it out from the wardrobe, that reason sounded more and more like something sort of childish. No, it was time she finally wore the red dress. It was time she felt good again. Not just 'ok' good, but 'good' good. It was worth it, and tonight is the night. There's this party she's been invited to, and she's going to wear the dress tonight.
Somewhere in the city, a man is looking at himself in the mirror and wondering whether to shave or not. To be fair, he just doesn't terribly feel like it, but he hasn't shaved in a few weeks now, and it's starting to itch bad.
He shaves, cuts himself below the lower lip, curses, and then drowns his face in cold water to staunch the bleeding for a bit. He then thinks to himself that he shouldn't have shaved after all, but that was too late now, anyway.
His day has been pretty much uneventful : he had woken up early-ish, went for a jog, then showered. Only this, and nothing more. The shaving had come at a later time : he was reading in bed, when his phone rang, and plans were made to go out, for a few drinks, maybe even to a party.
He was up for the drinks, but not so much for the party. As all people are wont to, he'd grown weary of them, and now limited his social outings to special occasions.
But tonight.... yeah. Maybe tonight. He had a good feeling.

It was too loud, and had too many people. So many... where did they all come from? He was pretty sure he knew not half of one third of the people here, but they were all very nice, they all said hello, shook his head, and pecked him on his cheek. But that's ok, it's how things go, and better to let them happen, than to question them and make an already potentially embarrassing situation even more so.
Of course, he'd seen her there. He fought his instincts, and decided to stay. He wasn't entirely sure if she had seen him or not, but it didn't look like she did.

And she was a having a good time! The music was good - albeit a tad on the loud side - , there were nice people there, the food was decent enough, and she just danced with her eyes closed. She was, in a way, in a world of her own, just how she liked it. The dress clung to her body as tightly as a lover does, and made her feel warm on the inside. She felt that all eyes were on her, as she danced. Some were, but she didn't notice them. As the music wound down to a softer beat, she moved away from the empty space in which she danced, and went to get something to drink. And then, then she saw him.

He had turned her back to the room, while he fixed something to drink. She said 'Hello' in that voice he knew so well, but hadn't heard in so many years, and he didn't know if he ought to feel happy or despondent. He helloed back, and looked at her. She smiled, and said nothing. Nothing needed be said, after all. There were no words. No voices could speak what their hearts were saying to each other. All the years suddenly seemed to melt away, all that came before no longer mattered. What was important was this, what was important was now.
He stared ahead, fighting back the tears. He gave up after a while, wiped his eyes, and put his hands on the table where the drinks sat in absolute stillness. She drew closer, and put her left hand on top of his right hand, holding it tight.
She broke the silence, and said 'Everything will be alright. Everything will be alright.'