To Catch a Gust of Wind [COMPLETE]

Chapter 7 - Last Flight [#29]

Rafael's world collapsed to a fragile bubble.

How could you slip her from your grasp, man? She's there one moment and the next she's gone. With another man you even don't know the name. Think, man. What's your next move?

Rafael poured his glass with the last of the wine in the bottle. Without much ado, he downed the purplish wine in one gulp. That calmed his nerves but not for long. What with the music sweetly coming to his ears but only Rica was not there beside him to share it with.

"And sometimes when we touch, the honesty's too much..."

Oh, man can't you feel it? Have you lost your golden touch?

Rafael scanned the crowd on the dance floor which was always full, whether the live band played rock and roll or the lead singer with the husky voice sang sensual melodies. The dancers, especially the young ones, never left the dance floor as long as the band kept on playing. They really enjoyed every moment they were inside the Civic Center. Even those who were not able to find partners saw themselves moving towards the dance floor and eventually joined the rest dancing, swaying, turning, and laughing.

The lead singer with the husky voice finished her number and the band prepared for another music. The drummer let out a series of beats. Rafael recognized it. It's ballroom music. And his feet were aching for the dance. He might not dance it well but surely he wanted to dance tonight, release the heat or passion, if you will.

Before he could see where Rica was in the dance floor, somebody grabbed his hand and led him to the center. "Let's dance!" It was Rose. Ever the gentleman he was, Rafael followed her. Rose looked sexy in her black mini dress with laced sleeves, Rafael had time to notice. Seemed black was the favorite color of the party tonight. Why only now did he notice, he could only guess. Since he entered the Civic Center, there was only one lady in his mind. And she was nowhere to be seen.

Rose took Rafael's hands and placed them on her shoulders. For a moment they looked at each other without saying anything. Rafael found no words to say to her given the abruptness of the act; perhaps it was just a spur of the moment brought about by the sensual melody of the music.

"Quien sera la que me quiera a mi..."

It was the Spanish version of "Sway." It could either be danced with cha-cha or rumba. And Rose preferred the latter. The rumba is a slow romantic dance and is often called the dance of love.

"Quien sera, quien sera..."

Rafael was unsure if he executed the right steps. He had danced it before in one of the parties in Manila, but that was years ago.

Just flow with the rhythm, man. Sure you can do it. Feel the music and let it move you.

Slow-quick-quick steps. Rafael slowly moved his feet, ankles, knees, legs and hips and followed Rose's movement on the dance floor. He held Rose's hand as she turned around, their hips swaying side to side in a continuous flowing motion.

"He querido volver a vivir..."

Rafael stepped backward and then forward holding Rose by the shoulders. He let her go as she danced towards the side, walking out of the dance floor. Rafael didn't notice it at first. He kept on dancing, glancing for a second to his side, taking care not to step on the feet of other dancers. And when he turned to face his partner, he was greeted with a smile the like of which could have melt any Casanova's heart. It was Rica. Rose obviously danced her way to their table and literally pushed Rica to the dance floor.

"Quien sera la que me de su amor..."

Rica placed her hands on Rafael's shoulders as they danced. Rafael held her at the back, then at the hips. He felt Rica move her hips swaying side to side, in quick forceful motion as if something possessed her, perhaps borne not only by the romantic emotion brought about by the melody of the song but by the sensual motion of the rumba. Rafael could feel it, and it brought him some kind of arousal, not of the physical variety, but some kind of passion that the mind could conjure when music and dance combine to drown the heart in sensuality.

Both continued to dance until the last beat subsided. And then when they were about to return to their seats, the female singer with the husky voice belted another song. This time it was slow and sweet.

"I can tell by your eyes that you've probably been cryin' forever..."

Without saying anything, Rafael held Rica's hands and led her gently to the center. Other partners started to crowd the dance floor.

"I never thought this chance, this opportunity, to happen and dance with you, Miss Suarez," Rafael said at last, his first words to Rica since they danced.

"Neither am I, Mr. Raffy Cruz, and you danced pretty well with Rose a while ago," Rica replied. If she meant something else, Rica hid it perfectly with nary an emotion on her face.

"So are you with that friend of yours in black polo shirt," Rafael said, giving back the compliment. It's a little bit awkward to have said it, judging by the sound of his voice, Rafael thought. Hope Rica didn't notice it.

"If I stand all alone, will the shadow hide the color of my heart..."

Rica said nothing. Rafael held her closer, pulling Rica closer to his chest. No reaction there, he noticed. But Rica still said nothing. Instead she leaned on Rafael's shoulders.

"Who's your friend? The guy in black shirt," Rafael whispered on Rica's ears. "Seemed you two haven't seen each other for a long time."

"Why do you want to know?" Rica answered. Her voice seemed sleepy as if she's feeling comfortable with Rafael hugging her.

"I asked first," Rafael said. "Care to satisfy me with an answer?"

"It doesn't matter, Raf," Rica said. "I'm dancing with you, that's all you need to have right now."

"I don't want to talk about it, how you broke my heart..."

Oh yea, Rafael thought. Right, indeed. Doesn't matter at all. I have her, all mine tonight. I could almost feel her breath on my cheeks. That alone means she's mine.

But still he could not take his mind off the image of Rica and the man in black polo shirt dancing a slow dance. Someone had said something that described his feeling right now. He could not bear the thought that the woman of her dreams kept on roaming free.

Only that somewhere in the crowded dance floor a pair of eyes were staring intently at the couple dancing a slow dance, as if embracing, hugging each other closely, without care to what's happening around them, oblivious was the right word, feeling, loving each second of the moment they were together to Rod Stewart's husky rendition of "I Don't Want to Talk About It."

The eyes were Thea Marie's...