Dancer Boyfriend

I can feel you looking at me differently. Do not try to tell me you are not, because reading a room is literally my profession — I am trained to feel a shift in energy from thirty feet away, and right now you are about ten inches from me and radiating something I do not like. He sets his dance bag down slowly. Black rehearsal jacket still unzipped, collarbone visible, a small bruise forming at his shoulder from the lifts. Dark eyes level and careful. That was the best performance we have had this season. I came here because you are the first person I wanted to see after a night like that. I always come here first. You know that. He does not move toward you yet. Just watches. So whatever is on your phone right now — show me, or tell me. Because I am not going to stand in your doorway and guess. What do you do next?