My Danceteacher

Lesson 5

*Ding Dong*

"COMING VIV!!" I rush to the door still in my pyjamas. Well, technically it's my undies so I just trow my bathrobe on top, tying it lazily to where my bralette is almost completely visible. But I mean it's Viv. She's seen me in far less so it's fine. I rip open the door and my face drops. OMG.

"Bada! What are you doing here? No, no. How do you know my apartment number?" I look at her surprised. But her eyes are not on my face. Rather they are stuck lower. I follow her gaze to see that she's practically staring at my boobs. I clear my throat and pull close my robe.

"Ahmm.. You dropped your phone in my car." She holds my phone towards me. "I thought you might need it. Your friend Viv, I think, tried to call and when I answered I asked her for your flat number. To return it." Ahhhhhh.... Why didn't Viv tell me yesterday tho? Wait a minute.... Ohhhhhh, she slick. Viv, you smooth motherf....

"Oh, thanks for returning it." I shyly take it from her making sure my fingers brush over hers. She pulls her hand away quickly, stuffing it in her pocket.

"I better get-" she turns away pointing to the lift.

"Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? Like as a thank you."

"Uhhhh.." I can see her fighting with herself. Contemplating the offer. After a minute or so she sighs and turns back round. "Sure, I guess. Thanks." She awkwardly scratches the back of her neck. I close the door behind her.

"Take a seat wherever you like." I point to my sofa while heading to the kitchen to make coffee. "Do you want any sugar or milk with your coffee?" I shout over my shoulder. Noticing from the corner of my eye how she has picked up my book from yesterday of the coffee table.

"Neither thanks." Black coffee. Straight black coffee. Just like that, point blank. Like her soul. Black.

"Do you at least want it iced?"

"No thanks." Not even iced? Who hurt her? Seriously, did I just let a psycho into my place. Who drinks plain, hot, black coffee? I shake my head slightly and grab the cups. Placing them on the coasters on the coffee table.

"I'll just go and put something on." I rush to my room, ripping open my closet. What do I put on? Something that screams cute but also 'I just happened to grab that first'. That's it. My black skims dress. It is loungewear after all. I put on the dress quickly and brush over my hair. Letting it fall over my shoulders. One quick look in the mirror. Damn. I look good. I step back out, picking up my cup from the table and leaning on the frame, connecting livingroom and kitchen.

"Your place looks nice. You have good taste." Bada says looking up to me from the sofa. Did Bada just pay me a compliment? Bada, the same person, who doesn't like me Bada?

"Uhh.. thanks. I tried to make it match me." Now I'm the one awkwardly scratching my neck. Contrary to what one might think, my apartment is actually quite gloomy and dark. Almost giving blackswan meets dark academia.

"I imagined it to be pink and full with super girly ballet stuff." Excuse you. There is nothing wrong with that. Balletcore is very pretty and gorgeous. It just doesn't represent my mental state. Also, did Bada just confess to thinking of me?

"Not all ballet dancers live in a music-box, you know." I look at her taking a slow sip of my drink.

"I know that. I just thought that-"

"That I would be one of those who do." She nods. "Yeah, I get that a lot." I turn my back to her walking into the kitchen. Just because I dance ballet doesn't mean that that is my only personality trait. Yes, it's the most time consuming part and I love it and talk about it a lot. But I'm more than just that. I guess she could tell my disappointment, as she quickly stands up from her spot and follows me. Leaning on my kitchen island.