Chloë and Harry

Chapter 3

I stood up.

My legs started to shake, and I slowly and awkwardly walked over to him, as if I had just learned how to walk a couple of days ago.

"Are you nervous?", he grabbed my hand. His palm was soft. He gently wrapped his fingers around the back of my hand and grabbed my waist.

"I don't really know how to dance to the song, but I guess, we'll figure that out."

I realised, he was nervous as well. Though he didn't show it as obviously as I did, his voice broke a little.

"I'm terrible at dancing," I said and looked up to him.

The light threw shadows on his cheeks. His eyes sparkled, green and a little blue. Like the moss on the forest floor in the summer, or like emeralds on the floor of the sea.

I felt weak, as I grabbed his shoulder. I buried my fingers in his muscles, as I was afraid to fall.

I stood on my tiptoes so that I would appear bigger and could reach the height of his shoulders with my head. I didn't really know if he chose the song on purpose – if he did, then it was definitely a good move, if he didn't, he was a very lucky guy.

The tension between us grew, it felt like the atoms of the air would explode every second, like the room would fall down on us and we would disappear into this undefinable space of prickling sexual feelings.

"And I've never seen that dress you're wearing

Or that highlight in your hair

That catch your eyes

I have been blind

The lady in red is dancing with me

Cheek to cheek

There's nobody here

It's just you and me

It's where I wanna be."

I nudged my head into his shoulder. I didn't care if he liked it or not, I just couldn't get enough of the way he smelled. Sweet and smoky, like lemons and artificial fog, like strawberries and cigarettes, like raspberries and after-shave and this really expensive perfume, of which he'd just take a little because it was too expensive to waste.

I could hear his heart pounding in his chest, which soothed my nerves somehow.

Though I knew, it would be very bad if it didn't beat, just the fact that it was beating this fast seemed like he must be nervous, too.

Maybe he wasn't, and I just started over-interpreting everything he did, because I had this strange feeling in my chest that prevented me from breathing properly and I could feel cold sweat dripping down my spine and millions of hot needles sticking in my stomach.

"What about you?", I asked, inhaling the scent of his shirt. "You didn't talk much about you."

"You didn't ask," he said. "I thought, I'd wait for you to ask me something."

"Well," I paused. I could feel him tightening up. "What about your age. How old are you?"

"Do you think that's a good first question?"

"You surely didn't ask me, but I think I can ask you."

"Because I'm the man?"

He laughed again.

"No, because you're hella intimidating. And I don't know any other question, I could ask you because I can't think of anything else than us dancing here to this obviously seductive song and I'm puzzled by how you smell and..."