Blue Mirth

Wholeheartedly

           

John Kenneth

Sometimes, in certain people's lives, they find a person who's meant to carry them forward through their toughest times. This person could be sitting right next to you on the local train, and you wouldn't know. This person could be someone you bumped into at the grocery store and hardly acknowledged. This person could be your closest friend. Or, in my case, this person could be the girl who's breaking the dance floor in half with her moves.

Ivy dances too well to not show-off. I don't know why I didn't figure this out earlier. She does work in a theatre. It was so self-explanatory. Maybe I didn't see it because she always looked so closed-off. She was always in her own little world, always hiding in her locker. She had layers, I'd come to know. She was all open and smiley one minute and all guarded and stubborn the next. I'd seen it.

Ivy was something exceptional. "You're not dancing!", her high, excited voice brings me out of my thoughts. I think I smiled, because she did too. I like knowing that we smile together. "I'm not?", I ask her, in a baby-voice. It's bound to get her giggling. She holds my hands and moves them around to move me around.

"John, look at all these people. And then look at yourself. You're as rigid as a rock!"

I don't look around.

"I'm not a great dancer."

"That's bogus, you're a fantastic dancer. You were dancing when the slow song started."

"Okay."

And with that, I leave her alone on the dance-floor. No, of course I'm not ditching her. I just want to tell the DJ something. I move to this skinny guy behind the system. Even though the sun's not really glaring down at us, he has dark glasses on. He's sporting bid headphones around his neck, which he occasionally picks up and puts around his head, to check the sound. Standard stereotypical DJ.

I gesture for him to come nearer to me, and when he does, I tell him what I want him to play. The music starts, and due to the fact that the previous song was a fast one, everyone stops for a second looks at him quizzically. Then when their eyes travel to me, I move towards Ivy. She's still standing at the same spot where I left her, looking mystified, a small smile on her enthralling face.

I reach her and lift my elbow a bit, my arm in front of me, asking for her hand. She gives it to me, and in sync with the music, we start. I place my hand on her hip, my other hand in hers, and she instantly starts moving with me. Her body fits so well in my arms, I can barely focus. My eyes don't wander from her face at all. They only do so when she circles her leg on the floor. The music climaxes, and I jerk her closer.

{A/N : The idea for the choreography, because i dont know the first thing about dance (Credit goes to the movie Another Cinderella Story)}

It's all a tango. All hips and legs. And I love this. I love how easily she dances with me. I love how she feels in my hold, as if I'm the one moving her. And maybe I am. I twirl her quickly and pull her closer. Her eyes bore into mine. I watch her legs move with such expertise, as if she's done this before with a lot of people. A lot of guys. I shake my head to clear it of the thought and twirl her again.

This time, she moves away from me, raises our hands, and bends her knee, coming back to me a second later. That's when I twirl her again, and so it goes. At one point in the choreography, after I twirl her, she drapes her left leg around mine, and I tighten my grasp on her. She erects her right leg normally to the ground, transferring all of her weight to me. At this point, I remember how I'd carried her home from the party which made her go away from me.