Unspoken

~ Chapter Four ~

        The room was dark as he pulled me through the heavy door. A soft click sounded as it swung shut.
I moved towards the bathroom slowly, pulling my hair from the ponytail.
"I'm gonna get changed for bed," I called over my shoulder, shutting the door behind me.
     I knelt down and rifled through the red bags, feeling exhausted. The excitement from dancing with Finch was quickly wearing off and exhaustion was setting in.
         I pulled out a thin white tank top and a pair of black yoga pants before straightening. I took my time putting them on, then brushed through my hair. As I looked in the dark mirror illuminated by the blue nightlight plugged into the wall, I twisted the faucet on.
        It took a while to rinse the makeup from my face, but it felt like my skin was finally breathing when I was finished. I yawned, exiting the bathroom. My bare feet padded on the wood floor as I walked towards the kitchen.
      Mr. Ivanov was leaning against the fridge in the dark, sipping from a glass of brandy. I stood up on my tiptoes beside him, reaching for a cup. His hand brushed mine as he reached to hand it to me. Goosebumps rose on my skin from his warmth.
       I looked at him for a moment before turning on the sink and filling the glass with clean, clear water. It was nice and cold, soothing my dry throat.
        "Nevaeh," he said, suddenly behind me.
       "Hm?" I asked, setting my cup down on the counter.
       "Dance with me," he almost whispered, seeming a bit breathless. I turned to face him slowly. His expression was composed, but his dark eyes were searching mine in the moon light.
        "But there's no music," I said in confusion. He smirked and took my hand, leading me down the platform. He pulled us to a stop in the large space between the back of the couch and the front door.
"Hello, MARIA," Mr. Ivanov said loudly, making me jump.
"Hello, Mr. Ivanov," an automated voice sounded, seeming to come from everywhere at once.
"Say hello to Nevaeh," he smirked down at my shocked face.
"Hello, Nevaeh," the automated voice spoke again.
"Play a song for us to dance to," Mr. Ivanov commanded. Without a pause, a passionate love ballad began to play. A man with an alto voice began to sing about wanting to be loved. A piano played along with him, the low notes delicate and soft.
He pulled me close, his palm resting on my lower back as he laced our fingers together in his other hand. This dance was different from the others I'd had tonight.
      He led me in a beautiful, slow dance. He spun me gracefully, pulling me back to him gently. He led us in a complicated array of steps, his hand now resting on my hip. His eyes were almost lonely as we moved together. I was clumsy in my steps, but he was flawless, and he paused as the first chorus of the song began.
        My pulse elevated slightly as he pressed up against me, pulling us in graceful loops and circles. I looked at him hesitantly before resting my head against his chest. His heart beat was slow and steady, somehow soothing me. His touch was warm on my skin.
          Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and heat burned through me. My pulse sped, and I pressed closer to him. I could feel his breath fanning through my hair.
         The next verse began as he spun me out again, gripping me from behind as he swayed back and forth with me. He spun me out again, then lifted me up by my hips as he spun us in a circle again. He dipped me slowly as the verse closed.
      The second chorus began as he slid me back onto my feet, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He leaned his forehead against mine as he continued to lead us around the clear space in a graceful box formation. Why do you draw me in like this? His scent was intoxicating.
         The man singing was begging someone to let him in, and describing longing. Mr. Ivanov's eyes matched the musics melody, sad and deep as the bridge began, changing keys. The voice was now begging the person he sang for to let him in. To let him love them.
          Our eyes locked together, and he spun me again, gripping me closely to him when he pulled me back a moment later. Electricity seemed to spark between us with every movement, and my heart rate was steadily increasing. Why do I crave your touch?
        His touch was gentle, his movements smooth. His eyes never left mine. The tension between us was rising, and I wanted him to kiss me so badly that it made my heart ache. Why?
       The last chorus began, and the passion of the words seemed to sink into me. The melody softened, even sweeter. I put the passion it gave me into the last of the dance, my eyes never leaving his. I was entranced in the moment, my skin warm as we moved.
         His arm pulled me closer as he spun us around, his lips parting as he watched me. I could feel his breath against my skin, and the scent of him had intoxicated me long ago.
        He pulled us to a standstill as the song came to an end. My skin was tingling in every place his body touched me. We stood perfectly still in the silent darkness for a long time, our eyes locked together. He released me slowly and gently, stepping back.
"Nevaeh," he said softly, lifting his hand hesitantly. He brushed his fingers lightly across my cheekbone and my heart gave a painful squeeze, making my eyelids flutter.
He stepped forward again, pressing his almost trembling lips to my forehead. "Sleep well," he murmured, turning away from me. I reached out slowly, touching his arm lightly.
"Have a good night," I said as he pulled away and looked at me over his shoulder with a small smirk.
"Sweet dreams, little dove," he smiled sadly at me. He swept gracefully out of the hotel room, and I heard the lock click behind him.
I distantly wondered where he'd gone as I crawled into bed, adjusting the blankets around me. I rested my head on the pillow, staring out the window into the brightly illuminated city below, drifting slowly.
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