Gray Steel.

Why Did You Look At Me Like That The Night Of The Birthday Party? You Were Sitting Across From Me At The Table That Was Covered In Tiny Plastic Cups Of Champagne. When You Got Up To Make The Rounds, A Feeling Of Dread Came Over Me. I Needed You To Protect Me From His Much Too Friendly Touch And The Judging Eyes Of The Passersby. The Bubbles Didn't Go To My Head, But Blood Flushed My Cheeks Just Thinking About Those Periods Of Long Silent Eye Contact Where We Had A Thousand Conversations. Those Steely Gray Irises That Seem To Change Color With The Light Or Maybe Your Mood, From Gray To Blue And Sometimes Hazel, Too. Why Did You Look At Me Like That The Night Of The Birthday Party When We First Met? Like You Had Already Been Doing It For Years.