My Property

Dance partner

~Malia~

I looked up at the person who had just spun me around ,locking me in their arms.

"Excuse me" I said, trying to get a hold of my balance .

The Man look down at me, a strand of his curled hair flicking down onto his face. His eyes had a unique colour to it, a dark shade I couldn't quite describe.

"A dance?" he requested, spinning me around once more. His ringed fingers hovered across my bare back, making me feel chills.

"When you want someone to dance with you, you normally ask" I frowned, "you don't just  snatch them away".

He rolled his eyes in entertainment, stroking his hair away from his face. Then taking an exaggerated deep breath in and letting it all out.

"Will you dance with me then Amore?"

"No" I smirked, flaunting my hand away from him.

He caught hold of it, twisting me back in.
His one hand catching onto my hip and the other onto my palm.

"And why not?"

"I'm here with somebody" I spoke out, keeping an close eye out for Romano.

"would that somebody get jealous?",

Jealous? No if that somebody knew I was here dancing with some stranger, instead of sitting down at the bar like his obedient little pet, he'd go insane.

"He just wouldn't be happy that I'm dancing with a stranger" I said, making it sound generously decent.

"I'm Lorenzo and you?"

"Malia?",

"guess we're no longer strangers" he teased , with a widened smile.

I giggled silently, somehow amused by his stupid joke. I coughed twice trying to hide away the grin on my face.

"You've got a beautiful smile" Lorenzo complimented , as we swayed side to side with the music.

I'm not normally complimented by men, unless we're at a club and they want something in return. He continued to adore my face, as I tried my best to cover up the noticeable butterflies he was giving me inside.

"Thank you" I mumbled ,under the sound of my breath.

"And your hair's pretty too",

"Hmm",

"Aw I'm making you blush" he teased, adding colour to my already red cheeks.

I bit down on my bottom lip nervously , earning a proud smile from him.

In that moment of silence, I realised we were actually dancing in a pattern around the room. Everyone one else was moving in the same way that we were.

"It's called the Sambolera" Lorenzo said, reading into my inner thoughts, "A traditional dance made by Javier Fernández's grandfather".

"Who?"

"You don't know who that is?" He chuckled.

I looked at him confused, giving him the hint that I was clueless.