The Window

She could see him in the window. He's standing there silhouetted by the light. He'd told her he hated being visible like that, but there he was.
At least he's attractive in silhouette. It hid his fishbowl eyes.
Once, she'd found those blue eyes attractive. That was until they'd been staring at her expectantly as she reclined on his bed.
Why is he in the window? Torture. Torture for the only person who could possibly be watching. And why is she watching? Because it is as close as she could get. Watching him, studying him… It's the only way to gather information about what happened. And he knows. At least she doesn't think he'd just stand there unwittingly on display so she could stare at him. Even he isn't that stupid. Even he isn't that clueless. But then he always squirmed when their paths crossed, visibly squirmed until the blush started up his neck like Romans taking over England and took over his face. It was a little pathetic. He would get so uncomfortable. He'd pause to stare at her in the middle of conversation with strangers. All she wants to know was why those fishbowl eyes swam so much. All she wants was for him to stop noticing her so she could stop noticing him.
He disappears from the window and the lights go out. She feels well hidden. She had dressed in dark clothes, sitting in the shadow of the steps across the street. But he comes out the front door of the building and stands there under the light, looking around. Looking a little scared. Looking like the last time they'd had a conversation.

“Why are you calling this off?” she asked.
“I don't think it can work with me leaving,” he said. “I don't think it would be fair to you.”
“How do you know how I feel? What are you feeling?”
“You-“
“This obviously isn't about me.”
“I don't want you to get hurt.”
“So you'll lie to me to protect my feelings,” she said.
“You know you're an ass,” she sighed, “don't you?'
“I didn't want it to end like this,” he said. “I didn't want to hurt you.”
“Thanks.” She sighed. “Why don't you tell me the truth?”
“I- I always think I get these things clear.”
“I don't understand,” she said. “I just don't get it.”
“I wanted this to be clear.”

He is still looking around, moving out of the circle of light in the doorway. He was looking at her. She knows and she hopes he wouldn't see her.

The conversation between them was dwindling, taking an uncomfortable end pass through an intersection. Her knee- he had his hand on her knee. She leaned her head on his shoulder. They stood to say goodbye. He stopped at the door.
“I- I don't know what to say to you now.”
“How about goodbye?”
“I feel like I should kiss you or something- something to make this feel like an end.”
He leaned in and smacked her cheek, leaving the damp feel of his lips on her skin.
“Goodbye,” he said.
He reached for the doorknob. She took his hand from the knob and kissed him. The kiss continued, leaving both of them breathless several times.

He looks straight at her. Their eyes meet but she's sure he can't see her. His eyes couldn't have adjusted that well. His eyes swam behind the lenses of his glasses. She wouldn't forget that. She couldn't think of him in passing without seeing those eyes.
She can see him moving. One step, then another, in her direction. He did see her, and there was no chance to run in and get a coffee. He's out of the circle of light cast from above the door. It takes her eyes a few moments to adjust before she can see him walking across the street.

“We can't do this.”
“Why not?” she asked. “We both want it.”
“If that's all there is to it… I'd be Nietsche and I'd throw you on the bed and have my way with you.”
No, no you wouldn't, she thinks.
“Why Nietzsche?”
He slipped his fingers along the line of her chin, down the tendon in her neck.
“Why are you tense?”
“You have to ask?”
“Just because. Because.”
She sighed. She got it. She took the same course, read the same bits of Beyond Good and Evil, even wrote a similar paper. He had to ask. It was like the experience they had shared meant nothing.
“You're being rational about this,” he said. “I just…”
“Just what?”
“Can't be so unafraid. You're a utilitarian.”
Do you even know what that means?

He steps in front of her.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hey,” she mumbles.
“Can I sit down?”
She shrugs.
“How are you?”
“Okay. You?”
“Fine.”
She could hear him breathing. It was so quiet. No cars, no wind, no people.
“Why are you here?”
“Why were you watching me?”
“Watching you?”
“You've been sitting out here.”
“So? It's my building. It's a nice night. You wouldn't question me if I smoked.”
“But you don't. And I know I couldn't drive you to start.”
“You're right about that.”
“Since you're not smoking, couldn't you enjoy the night from inside?”
“Do you think I'm spying on you?”
“Yes. You've been showing up in my places. Every time I turn around you're there.”
“I have to be in those places,” she says. “I eat there. I work there. I live across the street!”
“I know, but you show up when you don't have to, when I least expect you.”
“What the hell do you know about what I have to do anymore?”
“I'm just saying-“
“You are making accusations.”
The dead calm in her voice stuns him. He reaches out and touched her knee. She slaps his hand away, jumping up.
“What the hell is THAT going to fix?”
She takes a few steps away from him, putting herself in a pool of lamplight.
“I'm sorry.”
“You're sorry. If I kissed you right now, you'd just let it go on until your guilt caught up with you again.”
“You're not over it. That's why you're watching.”
“I have nothing to get over. We never had a defined relationship. We'd get drunk and make out. We didn't ever plan anything. We never had a real date. We were never even a We. What is there to get over?
“The only problem is that I have no idea what the speech you ended things with was about.”
“I-“
He stops, staring at her hair lit up in the street light.
“Oh, so you can't say it still.”
“When did you dye your hair?”
“Don't change the subject.”
He sighs, and looks at her face.
“I was afraid of where we would go.”
“Of where…”
“I was leaving.”
“And you knew you were coming back.”
“And leaving again. Two weeks from now.”
“I don't care if you're leaving now. All the better. What are you getting at?”
“I'm sorry it ended up like this. I wanted to be friends. I didn't want to hurt you. It was the one thing I knew I didn't want… I didn't want this.”
“You said you wanted to be friends. You kiss me and then you ignore me for… For what?”
“I-“
“You. Ignored. Me.”
“I-“
“Don't deny it.”
“I was afraid of you.”
She turns and stares at him.
“Thank you. I finally got the truth.”
She starts into the building. She stops at the door and looks at him still standing there at the bottom of the steps. There's a barely perceptible shake to his shoulders.
“I'm sorry I had to burst your bubble.”
She walks into the building, letting the door bang behind her.

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