The Way He Looked at Me
And I hate that I listen.
Still, I lower myself beside him.
Cold tiles bite into my knees. Our shoulders brush for a split second before he shifts away, focused completely on the tank.
We’re crouching.
Silent.
Hidden.
From a fish.
“This better not be ”
“Shh.” His hand lifts slightly, stopping me.
Then, softer, “Watch closely.”
Slowly, he raises his head above the glass.
I follow, confused
And then I see it.
The fish freezes.
For half a second, the water goes still… like everything is holding its breath.