The door swings open with a creak a few moments after you knock. I’m standing there, dressed in gray sweatpants and a fitting long sleeve shirt. It’s the first time you’ve seen me, and the first time I’ve seen you, because, despite having talked online for over a year, we haven’t actually met before. You’re shorter than I expected, smaller, too — something I love. It makes me want to hold you. I’m skinnier than you thought I would be, but you don’t seem to mind one way or the other.
Standing there in the doorframe, sweating a little from climbing the stairs and the sudden increase in temperature after braving the cold outside, you give me a shy smile and say hello before looking down at my feet. I step aside and say something that sounds like a greeting as you walk into my apartment. You turn and watch as I close the door, your purse hanging between your legs, and you can’t help but notice the hints of muscle definition in my arms through the shirt.