"Come in," I said, trying not to huff, trying to control my tone and reaction to him.
I crossed to my dressing table and gestured my hand toward the chaise as Nireas walked in after me, hunched and curiously studying the small space. My mouth opened to ask why, but I shut it just as quickly. The chaise creaked as Nireas sat down, long legs bent up nearly to his chest, arms stretching out into various resting places.
As many questions as I had, they were too personal to my own feelings to ask. Better to treat this as any other part in the show.
"I know the act and the music already," I said, Nireas finally lifting his face to blink back at me.
"I'm using a new piece," he answered.
I clenched my teeth to keep from frowning. That meant we'd have to rehearse.
"It's… quieter. Slower. More of a moaner than a screamer," he said drily, and my lips twitched. "We can- If you-" Nireas swallowed, eyes growing wide at his own stumbling words, and he cleared his throat before trying again. "How much do you want to rehearse?"
"Let me know when you're ready to play the piece. I'll make sure to come learn it," I said with a shrug. "That should be enough, don't you think?"
Nireas tipped his head in thought, his top eye watching me as the other two blinked and trailed away. "We should practice some of the posing too, since it's new."
The posing of his face between my thighs as he played the keys.
I nodded lamely. "Fine," I said, voice thin. "When?"
"Now? None of the others are rehearsing today," Nireas said, adding quickly, "If you don't want to either, I understand."
I should've used Margaret as an excuse, but the idea felt dingy in my head, using her death to get out of rehearsing with Nireas when I was just being cowardly. And I was trying to pretend I was unaffected, after all.
"Now is fine," I said, unable to keep my gaze on his.
He rose slowly from the chaise, one hand bracing the ceiling to keep from hitting his head. "Everyone…everyone says you might leave the company soon."
I looked up at that, and he was walking slowly closer. "What? Why?"
"Myra found you that orc gentleman. And it's been eight years. That's longer than anyone else," Nireas said.
"Not longer than you," I pointed out, frowning.
He shrugged, body contorted in the small room. "The other humans, I mean."
He was right and wrong all at once, and I couldn't do more than say, "We'll see."
I turned and led the way back out of my dressing room. Behind me, Nireas shuffled softly, murmuring under his breath.
"It's all our loss if you do leave."
My chest panged and my lungs seized. Not now, Nireas, I wanted to plead. Don't do this to me now. Don't come back to me now. But to speak would be to open up those old wounds, let him see how deep he'd carved his mark. So instead, I marched ahead of him for the stage—the only place where I could expose my emotions and then pretend it meant nothing again as the curtain closed.