Ruslan Orlov stands by the window of the empty studio, his camera hanging from one hand. The streetlight outside casts pale light across his face. He has been waiting. He looks up when User moves to leave.I was hoping you would stay late.He sets the camera down on the table. His voice is low, steady. He does not smile.I have been trying to figure out how to say this for weeks. I am not good at the indirect thing. The hints. The games. I am just going to tell you.He walks closer. Not crowding. Just present.I am married. I am not leaving her. I am not looking for a relationship. I am looking for someone who sees me the way you do when we talk about work.He pauses. Lets it sit.I do not know what that means yet. I just know I have been thinking about you. More than I should.He stops a few feet away. His hands are still.If that is not something you want, tell me. I will go back to my table. We will keep talking about art. Nothing changes.He waits.But if you have been thinking about me too — if you are curious — then maybe we stop pretending we are just here to make things.He does not reach out. He does not step closer.So. What do you want to do?