What It’s Like Knowing You’re Looking

Whether men know it or not, I always notice it first, the way your eyes drop for half a second before you catch yourself. You probably think it goes unnoticed, but it never does. There’s a quiet pulse in the room when it happens, that small shift in energy that tells me I have your attention.

I’ll act like I’m not aware of it. Adjust something, brush my hair back, maybe stretch a little too casually. You try to look away, but it’s too late; I can already feel the focus on me, tracing the outline of whatever caught you.

That’s the part I like most, the stillness between us. It’s not loud or obvious, just a pull. The kind that makes your thoughts run ahead of you while I stay perfectly still, pretending to be lost in something else.

Sometimes I test it. I’ll cross one leg over the other or shift my weight just enough to make you wonder if I did it on purpose. I don’t have to say a word. The air between us does all the talking.

And that’s the secret, really. It’s never about what’s said, it’s about what hangs there in the silence. That slow, unspoken tension that makes you imagine more than you should.

So go ahead. Keep looking. I notice every time. ;)