The lovely Connor Campbell (Connor Franta) --->
Chapter 3
Agatha Christie, read all her books. Clive Cussler, not in the mood. Read all of Michael Crichton's books. Gah, maybe I should just re-read some good ol' Anthony Horowitz.
I walked over to the shelf marked 'H' and picked out one of the 'Diamond Brothers' books.
Or maybe I should read a good spy novel or something...
I put the book back and went in search of another book. I slowly made my way to the back of the library, noticing that there were hardly any people around anymore. As I got further, I heard the faint sound of someone humming. Crouching down, I peeked between the shelves to see who it was. Lo and behold, it was Connor. He had his earphones on and his eyes were closed as he danced with an imaginary partner. It would have been nice, had he been getting his stepping right.
I quietly sat down on one of the beanbags there and watched with a smile on my face as Connor attempted to dance. At one point, he stopped to change the song and only then did I realize how creepy it would be if he saw me staring at him.
"Fuck," he swore when he saw me.
I simply stared at him, unable to do anything else.
"You scared me," he said and took his earphones out.
"Sorry," I mumbled.
"How long have you been watching?" he asked.
"About five minutes. It's entertaining," I chuckled. "No offence," I quickly added.
"None taken," he said. "I suck, don't I?" he sighed and flopped down onto the floor next to me.
"Not that much," I lied and rested my chin on my hand while I sat on my side on the beanbag.
"Thanks, but I need your honest opinion," he smiled.
"Okay, you sucked," I said.
"Yeah, but I don't know how to improve," he sighed.
"Just get the rhythm in your head. Then, start the count out loud. One, two, three. One, two, three. Then, move your legs according to it," I said.
"I never actually get it," he replied sadly.
"Why do you have to learn it so desperately anyways?" I asked.
"I have a wedding coming up so I have to learn how to dance,"
"Here, watch me,"
I demonstrated a little dance. I've always loved dancing, and got the hang of it really easily, so no one had to actually teach me.
"Bravo!" Connor clapped softly.
I bowed theatrically. "Thank you," I said.
"Teach me, please?" he asked.
"I just showed you," I said.
"Dance with me. I'll never get it,"
"No way! I don't dance,"
"You just did," he blinked.
"I know, but dancing with others, it's a little nerve-wracking," I sighed.
"Pwease," he begged, putting on a puppy dog face.
"No," I said, looking away from his face, I knew I wouldn't be able to say no to his puppy dog eyes.
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