Her step towards him felt like a threat, but rather than being inclined to take a step backwards and return the space between them, Ozymandias had an instinct to mirror her. He may have been on her territory, but that didn't mean he ought to be the one ceding ground. Fortunately he resisted when he realized in what close proximity that would put the two of them (certainly close enough to draw attention, but not quite enough to touch her — in other words, all of the risk of making a move in with none of the rewards).

The smile she offered him raised the hair on the back of his neck. Of course she'd seen the way he watched her during the solos; even if she hadn't, she probably could have enlisted espionage from one of the other dancers to keep an eye on him throughout the performance and report back. Nothing he did in this theater was safe from her, which was (yet again) a very good reason to leave. He knew this, and he had been thinking it for the past ten minutes, and still when she asked what should my position be a part of him couldn't help but imagine a few positions he might enjoy seeing her in...

A full two seconds later, it occurred to him that he was still staring her in the eyes and had yet to muster any sort of response. He frowned and busied himself with the process of fishing his cigar case from an interior jacket pocket, then found and lit a cigarette. He did not offer her one.

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