Out of all misery...

I wanted to stare at him. It was the first time we truly met. I wanted to stare at him, right into his face, as if it could tell me anything I wanted to know about him. But we are taught not to stare, so I didn't. Instead, we shared a few anecdotes, and a few laughes. Just, I didn't know were else to look but in his face, and that made me nervous.
She was nervous, too. Laughed and talked in a jittery way and spilled some of her coffee. What if we didn't get on? What if I didn't like him?
That was not my concern. I knew I would, if she did. I was afraid he might realise that stupid urge of mine to stare, hidden in tiny glimpses that took his face into focus, again and again. But that is definitely dangerous. Who stares cannot hide, and will truly be recognized. The eye sockets become open windows into any depths. If there are any, that is.
On the other hand, while he might find out everything about me, I was never going to learn more about him this way. Should I have asked him what kind of films he liked, what kind of books? Tell me what you read? Or maybe politics? Not a good idea, most of the time. What about a game? Should I have asked him to play with us? A perfect way to a person's true nature. Can he lose? Will he be fair?
Of course I didn't ask. And luckily it had not even occurred to me, then. As if those two had nothing else on their minds!
I was just sitting there, trying to be as easy going as possible, while not making a complete fool of myself. And maybe I managed. Because in the end, leaving, me saying bye-bye, and enjoy yourselves, and be good, and all this, he gave me first one of his transient, and then a more and more radiant smile, and so did she. She hugged and kissed me. Can't have been too bad, after all.
I guess he never realised the stare.