Zero Distance at the University

At the university, in the dance department, a woman rehearses until the mirror fogs and the campus outside stops mattering. He is not a teacher in some closed-door classroom tale. He is close enough that zero distance stops being a metaphor: a hand at her waist during a lift, a correction that lasts one beat too long, a look the practice room was not built to hide. She is an adult. The sweat is from the work. / The company around them still thinks a rehearsal is only a rehearsal. The two of them know the next combination is an excuse.