Waters of Oblivion

Chapter 11.3: The Dance

Max's timing wasn't ideal. Most of the band had just gone on a break. However, the lone pianist started playing a beautiful melody. 

"Dance with me." From anyone else, it would have surely sounded like an order rather than a request, but Max somehow even made this seductive.

Looking at his beaming face, she couldn't resist. 

"Sure," she said before almost immediately regretting the decision because while they were heading toward the dance floor, most of the other couples were just leaving to take a breather. It was as if all eyes were on them as Max led her to the center of the parquet floor.

Adjusting his grip and putting his other hand above her waist, he waited for the correct beat before taking the first step. Even in her platform heels, Reine was still below his eye level. Keeping her head up to look at his face, she mentally counted the steps until she got the hang of it. It had been quite a while since she last waltzed.

One, two, three. One, two, three.

Moving in harmony, they maintained the flawless box-step. Gracefully gliding around the remaining couples, they travelled counterclockwise around the dance floor.

Reine was finally relaxed. The pure sounds coming from the ivory keys perfectly echoed throughout the room. For an instant, it was as if they were the only two people around.

One, two, three. One, two, three. Turning and stepping. Stepping and turning.

Max confidently led, and she eagerly followed, even when he peppered the textbook moves with an occasional spin, all of which he executed masterfully. As the music faded away, it was replaced by cheers and thunderous applause.

Reine's cheeks turned red realizing she and Max were the only dancers left on the dance floor. The accolades were all meant for them. Luckily, the band leader took the microphone as the rest of his crew returned to their instruments.

"And now, one of my favorites from Benny Goodman," he announced as drums and trumpets replaced the lone piano, and other couples started to return to the dance floor.

"Are you up for it?" Max asked, his head already bobbing to the up-tempo beat.

Reine hesitated. Swing dance was never her strong suit. "I guess."

Just like with the waltz, he immediately took charge. This time the moves were more complicated and impromptu, making her concentrate on anticipating – and then taking – every step. The quick jerking motions of swing were occasionally interrupted with a hop, skip, and twirl, while the band played quicker and louder with every passing beat.

Max became just a blur. Reine was no longer dancing with him, but rather with the mysterious man from her dreams. He was still hiding behind that annoying mask, but she was moving too fast to rip it off. She was no longer in control of her own body. It was moving to the beat on its own accord.

By the time Reine realized she was in trouble, it was too late; she had slipped on the smooth floor. In the fraction of the second before tumbling to the ground, her imaginary dance partner looked her square in the face, and she saw a pair of familiar, incredibly blue eyes.

"Gabe," she whispered in astonishment before realizing it was actually Max crouched above her. There was no mistaking that he'd heard her, but he was publicly more concerned for her well-being to address the issue immediately.

"Are you all right, darling?"

"Yes, of course." She pulled herself up with his help and smiled to the anxiously watching crowd stopped around them. "No worries, everyone. I'm okay."