Possible Prologue

The other day I was writing in class (because there was nothing else to do).  Typically, when I write in or at school at all, I write short stories, so I had intended this to be a short story.  However, when I was done, it seemed more like the prologue for a book.  Input would be much appreciated!  Is it a short story or a prologue?

His face glowed in the moonlight, causing him to appear slightly eerie, but she didn't care.  She made her way to where he sat on the hard, cold steps of her house and sat beside him, resting her cheek on his strong shoulder.
Crickets chirped in the darkness and they could hear the owls calling out to their bretheren as they breathed in the cool, damp air.  Her eyes fluttered shut and she gazed at the dark alleys of the inside of her eyelids.  He had not moved, had not even spoken to show that he knew she was there.  And that was okay.
They were each other's leaning posts, each other's shelters.  Which is why he had come to her.  When his parents fought, he came here and sat, knowing she would come out to comfort and soothe his fears.  Her gentle touch was all it took and he knew she wouldn't speak until he did.  And he didn't want to speak.
The yowling of alley cats fighting made her open her eyes and she lifted her head from his shoulder.  Slowly, she began stroking his soft, black hair, until the walls he'd built up began crumbling and he allowed a tear to leak from his eye.
She didn't try to wipe it away, because she understood the soothing quality of feeling the warm, salty moisture running down one's face.  She put a soft, smooth hand out and caught the tear in her hand as it fell toward the ground.
She felt his eyes on her face before she was pulled into his warm embrace.  He held her for a long time and she felt, literally felt, all of his sorrow and pain.  As usual she stroked his back and hair.
"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear, before gently touching her arm and disappearing into the night.  His tears were gone, as were his sorrows and fears.
But now she sat on the steps, tears streaming down her face.  His pain was now hers.  His fear was now hers.  That was why he'd told her he was sorry...because he knew what had happened.  She would be okay in the morning, but right now, that seemed like a long way off.

Well, that's the end....like?  Dislike?
©2015 Katie Holm