The winter chill is biting and damp, heavy with the threat of snow, and Ethan is like a bending willow dressed in a fleece hoodie. Robert wants to wrap around him, to make him warm. "Hi," he says. Ethan glances up briefly from digging around in his messenger bag, presumably for his car keys. His pale cheeks and the tip of his nose are already flush from the cold. "Oh. Hi" he says, halting. "Can I help you?" "Yeah, I mean, I'm Robert. From inside?" Robert gestures toward the unmarked entrance, just another plain grey door along the side of a huge warehouse. "I know. I've seen you," Ethan says, still looking in his bag. It's hard to tell if he's genuinely searching or if he's lowering his eyes, so Robert walks around the car, his boots crunching noisily in the gritty old snow on the pavement. At the sound, Ethan looks up again and Robert ducks to meet his eye pointedly and says, "I was wondering if I could see you. Outside." "I don't date," Ethan says. He's careful. Apologetic. "We could skip dating," Robert says.
