Back in high school, some of us used to stay in campus after class hours for dance practices and sports training.
Walking across the gym, I basked in its stillness as the other student athletes and artists were out making the most of their forty five-minute break, probably sleeping. Or eating.
A faint sound caught my attention and I started towards a dim corner of the gym. As I opened the door that leads to the dance studio, your eyes caught mine at exactly the same millisecond.
Not once did you stop dancing as you held my gaze in the mirror with a twinkle in your eyes. I couldn't do anything but stare back in awe and absorb your smooth, graceful moves. And then the music stopped.
The small smile that played on your lips as you turned to me was worth getting yelled at by my coach for being late.
