The taxi ride was a blur of neon lights and the rhythmic hum of the city passing by. Madison sat beside him, her silhouette framed by the streaking lights of the District 3 strip.
Her arms were loosely crossed, a lingering habit of defense, but her body was tilted toward him. Without turning her head to look at him, she spoke into the dimness of the car.
"You know what I hate most about you?"
"Tell me," Mike said, his voice a low vibration in the small space.
"It's how easy it is to react to you," she confessed, the admission sounding like a wound being opened. "I've been doing this, the managing, the navigating, for eleven years..."
"I know how rooms work... I know the physics of social interaction... I know how to handle the most difficult people and the most complex situations."
"And you... you aren't even more interesting than the people I've worked with."
"You aren't a spectacle... But when you enter a room, my entire equilibrium shifts."
