The Dance
I assure you, I’m not fickle in the least.
When I love, I love completely. However, sometimes, life moves people in and out of our embrace and the heart feels what it does as time passes and we grow, seeing things differently.
This will seem alien to some, but he was and remains my first love.
And he never really liked to dance.
Besides, it’s all just fantasy anyway.
Suggested song: I Don't Dance' by Lee Brice
When I love, I love completely. However, sometimes, life moves people in and out of our embrace and the heart feels what it does as time passes and we grow, seeing things differently.
This will seem alien to some, but he was and remains my first love.
And he never really liked to dance.
Besides, it’s all just fantasy anyway.
Suggested song: I Don't Dance' by Lee Brice
SC/sc
A large, mahogany desk sat along the wall opposite the stuffed bookshelves. In stark contrast to the neatness of the shelves, the desk was a mass of organized chaos with most of the mundane items of pens, white-out, stapler, computer keyboard and assorted notepads and paperclips covered in sheets of music, some blank and awaiting notes, others filled with familiar melodies or new harmonies.
Sitting on the soft, black leather of a small sofa, was a young woman. Prettily clad in a light gown of deep blue that flowed in an easy line to gently kiss her knees, her hair hung loose and free around her bared shoulders, all but hiding the wide straps of the dress.
Watching her intently and with a light smile was a man. It was still a slight shock to him that she had come to this reclusive office studio of his so late in the evening, having escaped what she had termed an ‘infernal family gathering’, forsaking her insipid and ever questioning relatives to seek him out instead. He smiled now at the memory of looking up from amid a pile of music and the fading notes of his guitar to see her standing stoically silent in the doorway.
He noticed now she was far thinner than when they had first met and there was an air of gentle fragility about her, like a fine, crystal vase that stood beautifully elegant but could be so easily shattered by careless hands. Both these he attributed to her battles with long illness but he could see too the familiar strength in her, coupled with a renewed vigour and a healthy flush to the slight hollows in her cheeks that spoke of the victory over that ailment.
It had been so easy to fall in love with her. She had been so much younger than him, though to time, it was but a handful of years. Naive, innocent to the story of love, she had fallen as easily as he had, but he marvelled still at how she had resisted until it had become impossible and to do so would mean to commit the gravest lie either had ever told. Sighing, he let the memories crowd his mind as he watched her with a smile, enjoying the stolen moment.
Carefully, his eyes marked the delicate, black shoes she had slipped off and set aside, straying instead to take in the pale prettiness of her bared toes against the cool, ebony floorboards. He laughed silently, recalling her distaste for high-heels in general and shook his head lightly. Following the gentle curve of each calve, beyond the hem of her dress, his eyes took in the flare of her hips, where they nestled against the fabric of the sofa, her hands splayed at either side against the luxurious leather. He lingered over the barely imperceptible rise and fall of her breast with each breath, and delighted at the small hollow where her collarbones met before finding the turn of her slightly blushing cheek and the slowly blinking lashes that masked her gaze from his own.
But she was not looking in his direction, oblivious to his inspection, her eyes instead studiously fixed upon the silent guitar that now sat cradled in its neat stand next to the desk, and so his words took her slightly off guard as he spoke softly through the golden lit gloom.
“What are you afraid of?” There was again that musical drawl to his voice that had always so captivated her.
Smiling, she shook her head, her long auburn hair falling loosely around her face in light tendrils as she did. “I don’t know,” she whispered quietly.
“Then look at me.” He faced her across the comfortable room, his back to the massive window that reached from the floor to the ceiling and stretched from corner to corner forming an entire wall of glass behind him. The curtains had been drawn open to reveal the full view of the city beneath them.
For long moments, she sat in silence, facing the place where he stood, framed against the backdrop of night and the shimmering darkness of the cityscape. Beyond the glass, tiny shadows of twinkling stars dotted the mantle of the night sky, competing with the brighter, artificial lights that stood here and there in perfect squares of mirrored windows in the surrounding buildings. Yet for all their outspoken fanfare, those windows seemed far away, small and insignificant in contrast with the peaceful beauty of the dimmer, silver stars and the man who stood so elegantly before them.
Her vision strayed from the darkness outside to once again take in his graceful form, highlighted in the wan, golden rays from the single lamp illuminating the room. He was tall and she had always felt slightly small standing beside him, yet it had always been comforting somehow to know he could wrap his arms so easily around her in a circling embrace. She let her eyes enjoy that height now, moving slowly from the simple, black shoes he wore, over the faded blue denim of his jeans to the silver buckle at his waist. Here, she paused with a smile, noting the small, western detail he was so fond of, intricately carved into the precious metal. But she did not allow her vision to linger on the many memories of her own fingers undoing that same clasp, instead following the simple lines of the white shirt he wore, noting how it seemed dyed with golden amber from the lamplight.
She let herself delight in the spread of his shoulders and the delicate fingers of his hands where they rested against the arms crossed at his chest, tucked neatly into the crooks of his elbows. He wore no tie today, though she knew he was given to wearing them in vibrant colours and strange patterns. Instead, the top two buttons of his shirt stood casually undone, revealing only the hint of skin beneath the graceful arch of his throat.
How easy it was to follow the path of the gently cleft chin, the familiar scar beneath, the full, pouting lips that had kissed her own so many stolen nights. But now her strength faltered and she allowed her lashes to close softly, lowering her head, unable to continue this gentle caress. She knew only too well what awaited her, and every beat of her heart was aware of the very power of the twin pools of dark brown that were his eyes. Yet, even behind her closed lids she could see them, burned in memory so that they tormented her with a desperate need to look upon them in truth. Opening her eyes once more, she raised her gaze to meet his, her lips parting in a small smile that mirrored his own.
How many days and nights had she peered into those eyes, so like her own in their almond shape of muddled brown and amber shades? But his had not the kiss of emerald that flecked her own and the almond shape was more pronounced than in her own. There was no unearthly power, no supernatural draw that resided in those eyes, and yet they had so captivated her, she had often teased that he could command her at will with a simple glance. But she knew as well as he, it was not the mere vision of his eyes, but rather what they had shared with her own that drew the two of them together.
“Come dance with me...” His voice was soft, merely a stirring of sound in the silent room. It was not so much a request as a quiet plea. It seemed ages since he had felt the warmth of her form close by and he wanted to hold her again.
“But there’s no music!” Her laughter was light, teasing, and yet he knew what the intonation of her words invited of him.
“Come dance with me.” Smiling, with a nod, he invited her once again, extending a hand in anticipation of her decision.
Standing gracefully, her bare feet made no sound as she crossed the room to where he stood, her skirt swishing quietly around her knees as she moved. With a shy smile, she placed her hand in his and the two stood for a moment, each caught in the other’s gaze before he drew her close, lacing his fingers with her own. But his other hand did not remain so demurely at her hip, instead wrapping around her waist to pull her closer still until the softness of her form was pressed lightly against his own and he could feel the whisper of each breath beneath her breast.
Barefoot, she was even smaller next to him and easily inclined her cheek until it rested comfortably against his shoulder, her arm falling lightly around the other. With a light sigh and the slight pressure of her hand in his, she reminded him of the terms of this dance.
“Alright, alright!” Laughing lightly, he bent his lips to her ear and began to sing very softly, quietly, his breath teasing the delicate skin. Sighing contentedly, with a smile, she began to sway to the quiet song. One of the most magnetic sounds she had ever known was the melody of his voice in song and it was this silent request she had made of him in acceptance of the dance. The music of each note did not hide the slight twang of his words, but rather sweetened it so that each blended seamlessly with the smoothness of his voice making her smile in gentle remembrance.
Slowly now, he began to move with her in this private dance, each shuffling in time with the soft music he sang against her ear. The silken material of her dress caressed the soft denim of his jeans as they moved together, left to right, right to left. She nestled her cheek more intimately against his shoulder, closing her eyes to shut away the rest of the world, leaving only the sound of his voice and the feel of his form pressed against hers, drifting along the smooth, wooden floor.
So lost was she in the beat of his heart so close against her own, that she scarcely noticed when the song ended nor that their steps had faltered and they stood now motionless, simply embracing in the weak starlight that streamed through the window. Raising her head from its rest, she gazed into his eyes for long moments, the breath of his mouth lightly stirring her hair, teasing her cheek. At last, standing on tip-toes, she brought her lips to meet his own in a deep, tender kiss. Supporting her gently, he released her fingers to wrap both arms around her, caressing the span of her back, his fingertips reaching up to lightly brush the rounds of her shoulders before she released his lips with a heated sigh.
Her eyes seemed darker here in the moonlight, away from the glow of the lamp so that the amber was not so clear as the flecks of emerald that caught the silver beams from the night. Bowing over her, his lips found hers once again, meeting the depth of her kiss, suspended in the brilliant silence that embraced the two lovers, cloaking them from the prying eyes of the world, enveloping them in each other. Reluctantly, his lips slipped from hers, and he rested his brow against her own until each had somewhat regained their breath, but neither could contain the rapid beat of their hearts and they stood some drawn out moments, motionless and still.
“Dance with me again?” Her voice was quiet, almost the questioning of an innocent child that stirred the air between their kiss and called him from his reverie. He had neither the heart nor the desire to refuse her and so, with a warm smile, he drew her close once more, allowing her to again neatly tuck her cheek against his shoulder, her breath lightly grazing his throat as once more, he began to sing quietly, swaying with her to the slow rhythm.
There would be time for kisses later on, long before the moon slid shyly from the sky and the stars faded from the dark canvas of night. For now, there was only the music of his voice and this gentle dance.
The office was spacious though hardly enormous. One wall was lined with bookshelves filled with neat rows of various recordings on CDs, tapes; even old records were arranged in sections that lead easily to shelves of movies, videos and a variety of other assorted media. A stereo system was fitted neatly among the paraphernalia, though the room was silent but for the shuffling movements of the two people inside.
A large, mahogany desk sat along the wall opposite the stuffed bookshelves. In stark contrast to the neatness of the shelves, the desk was a mass of organized chaos with most of the mundane items of pens, white-out, stapler, computer keyboard and assorted notepads and paperclips covered in sheets of music, some blank and awaiting notes, others filled with familiar melodies or new harmonies.
Sitting on the soft, black leather of a small sofa, was a young woman. Prettily clad in a light gown of deep blue that flowed in an easy line to gently kiss her knees, her hair hung loose and free around her bared shoulders, all but hiding the wide straps of the dress.
Watching her intently and with a light smile was a man. It was still a slight shock to him that she had come to this reclusive office studio of his so late in the evening, having escaped what she had termed an ‘infernal family gathering’, forsaking her insipid and ever questioning relatives to seek him out instead. He smiled now at the memory of looking up from amid a pile of music and the fading notes of his guitar to see her standing stoically silent in the doorway.
He noticed now she was far thinner than when they had first met and there was an air of gentle fragility about her, like a fine, crystal vase that stood beautifully elegant but could be so easily shattered by careless hands. Both these he attributed to her battles with long illness but he could see too the familiar strength in her, coupled with a renewed vigour and a healthy flush to the slight hollows in her cheeks that spoke of the victory over that ailment.
It had been so easy to fall in love with her. She had been so much younger than him, though to time, it was but a handful of years. Naive, innocent to the story of love, she had fallen as easily as he had, but he marvelled still at how she had resisted until it had become impossible and to do so would mean to commit the gravest lie either had ever told. Sighing, he let the memories crowd his mind as he watched her with a smile, enjoying the stolen moment.
Carefully, his eyes marked the delicate, black shoes she had slipped off and set aside, straying instead to take in the pale prettiness of her bared toes against the cool, ebony floorboards. He laughed silently, recalling her distaste for high-heels in general and shook his head lightly. Following the gentle curve of each calve, beyond the hem of her dress, his eyes took in the flare of her hips, where they nestled against the fabric of the sofa, her hands splayed at either side against the luxurious leather. He lingered over the barely imperceptible rise and fall of her breast with each breath, and delighted at the small hollow where her collarbones met before finding the turn of her slightly blushing cheek and the slowly blinking lashes that masked her gaze from his own.
But she was not looking in his direction, oblivious to his inspection, her eyes instead studiously fixed upon the silent guitar that now sat cradled in its neat stand next to the desk, and so his words took her slightly off guard as he spoke softly through the golden lit gloom.
“What are you afraid of?” There was again that musical drawl to his voice that had always so captivated her.
Smiling, she shook her head, her long auburn hair falling loosely around her face in light tendrils as she did. “I don’t know,” she whispered quietly.
“Then look at me.” He faced her across the comfortable room, his back to the massive window that reached from the floor to the ceiling and stretched from corner to corner forming an entire wall of glass behind him. The curtains had been drawn open to reveal the full view of the city beneath them.
For long moments, she sat in silence, facing the place where he stood, framed against the backdrop of night and the shimmering darkness of the cityscape. Beyond the glass, tiny shadows of twinkling stars dotted the mantle of the night sky, competing with the brighter, artificial lights that stood here and there in perfect squares of mirrored windows in the surrounding buildings. Yet for all their outspoken fanfare, those windows seemed far away, small and insignificant in contrast with the peaceful beauty of the dimmer, silver stars and the man who stood so elegantly before them.
Her vision strayed from the darkness outside to once again take in his graceful form, highlighted in the wan, golden rays from the single lamp illuminating the room. He was tall and she had always felt slightly small standing beside him, yet it had always been comforting somehow to know he could wrap his arms so easily around her in a circling embrace. She let her eyes enjoy that height now, moving slowly from the simple, black shoes he wore, over the faded blue denim of his jeans to the silver buckle at his waist. Here, she paused with a smile, noting the small, western detail he was so fond of, intricately carved into the precious metal. But she did not allow her vision to linger on the many memories of her own fingers undoing that same clasp, instead following the simple lines of the white shirt he wore, noting how it seemed dyed with golden amber from the lamplight.
She let herself delight in the spread of his shoulders and the delicate fingers of his hands where they rested against the arms crossed at his chest, tucked neatly into the crooks of his elbows. He wore no tie today, though she knew he was given to wearing them in vibrant colours and strange patterns. Instead, the top two buttons of his shirt stood casually undone, revealing only the hint of skin beneath the graceful arch of his throat.
How easy it was to follow the path of the gently cleft chin, the familiar scar beneath, the full, pouting lips that had kissed her own so many stolen nights. But now her strength faltered and she allowed her lashes to close softly, lowering her head, unable to continue this gentle caress. She knew only too well what awaited her, and every beat of her heart was aware of the very power of the twin pools of dark brown that were his eyes. Yet, even behind her closed lids she could see them, burned in memory so that they tormented her with a desperate need to look upon them in truth. Opening her eyes once more, she raised her gaze to meet his, her lips parting in a small smile that mirrored his own.
How many days and nights had she peered into those eyes, so like her own in their almond shape of muddled brown and amber shades? But his had not the kiss of emerald that flecked her own and the almond shape was more pronounced than in her own. There was no unearthly power, no supernatural draw that resided in those eyes, and yet they had so captivated her, she had often teased that he could command her at will with a simple glance. But she knew as well as he, it was not the mere vision of his eyes, but rather what they had shared with her own that drew the two of them together.
“Come dance with me...” His voice was soft, merely a stirring of sound in the silent room. It was not so much a request as a quiet plea. It seemed ages since he had felt the warmth of her form close by and he wanted to hold her again.
“But there’s no music!” Her laughter was light, teasing, and yet he knew what the intonation of her words invited of him.
“Come dance with me.” Smiling, with a nod, he invited her once again, extending a hand in anticipation of her decision.
Standing gracefully, her bare feet made no sound as she crossed the room to where he stood, her skirt swishing quietly around her knees as she moved. With a shy smile, she placed her hand in his and the two stood for a moment, each caught in the other’s gaze before he drew her close, lacing his fingers with her own. But his other hand did not remain so demurely at her hip, instead wrapping around her waist to pull her closer still until the softness of her form was pressed lightly against his own and he could feel the whisper of each breath beneath her breast.
Barefoot, she was even smaller next to him and easily inclined her cheek until it rested comfortably against his shoulder, her arm falling lightly around the other. With a light sigh and the slight pressure of her hand in his, she reminded him of the terms of this dance.
“Alright, alright!” Laughing lightly, he bent his lips to her ear and began to sing very softly, quietly, his breath teasing the delicate skin. Sighing contentedly, with a smile, she began to sway to the quiet song. One of the most magnetic sounds she had ever known was the melody of his voice in song and it was this silent request she had made of him in acceptance of the dance. The music of each note did not hide the slight twang of his words, but rather sweetened it so that each blended seamlessly with the smoothness of his voice making her smile in gentle remembrance.
Slowly now, he began to move with her in this private dance, each shuffling in time with the soft music he sang against her ear. The silken material of her dress caressed the soft denim of his jeans as they moved together, left to right, right to left. She nestled her cheek more intimately against his shoulder, closing her eyes to shut away the rest of the world, leaving only the sound of his voice and the feel of his form pressed against hers, drifting along the smooth, wooden floor.
So lost was she in the beat of his heart so close against her own, that she scarcely noticed when the song ended nor that their steps had faltered and they stood now motionless, simply embracing in the weak starlight that streamed through the window. Raising her head from its rest, she gazed into his eyes for long moments, the breath of his mouth lightly stirring her hair, teasing her cheek. At last, standing on tip-toes, she brought her lips to meet his own in a deep, tender kiss. Supporting her gently, he released her fingers to wrap both arms around her, caressing the span of her back, his fingertips reaching up to lightly brush the rounds of her shoulders before she released his lips with a heated sigh.
Her eyes seemed darker here in the moonlight, away from the glow of the lamp so that the amber was not so clear as the flecks of emerald that caught the silver beams from the night. Bowing over her, his lips found hers once again, meeting the depth of her kiss, suspended in the brilliant silence that embraced the two lovers, cloaking them from the prying eyes of the world, enveloping them in each other. Reluctantly, his lips slipped from hers, and he rested his brow against her own until each had somewhat regained their breath, but neither could contain the rapid beat of their hearts and they stood some drawn out moments, motionless and still.
“Dance with me again?” Her voice was quiet, almost the questioning of an innocent child that stirred the air between their kiss and called him from his reverie. He had neither the heart nor the desire to refuse her and so, with a warm smile, he drew her close once more, allowing her to again neatly tuck her cheek against his shoulder, her breath lightly grazing his throat as once more, he began to sing quietly, swaying with her to the slow rhythm.
There would be time for kisses later on, long before the moon slid shyly from the sky and the stars faded from the dark canvas of night. For now, there was only the music of his voice and this gentle dance.
SC/sc
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