"Please concentrate," I state bluntly, mentally counting the steps.
He nods, burning crimson. Better.
"For you; step left - right left - right, and then one and a half turn. Then right left right left and the turn. Clear?" I ask quickly.
"Yes." Arjun says.
"5 6 7 8." His hands snakes around my waist and we move following the music. The song is dark, hot and tempting, very tempting. It has promise and unsatisfied pleasure reeking off every word.
And touch me like you never.....
And push me like you never.....
And touch me like you never....
Cause I am not afraid, I am not afraid anymore. No no no....
"Arms." I say and I lay my left arm on his outstretched right, so our ulnas touch. Gently raising them like the wings of a graceful bird we repeat the steps. The distance between us significantly reduces, to just a few inches. His presence around me hightens, his strength, odour, the strain of his muscles, warm skin tingling my own. The constant gaze of his eyes penetrating me, taking me.
Our hands slide together, pushing and rubbing as he turns me without holding my hand. Just the pressure of our wrists guiding and leading the movement. That's the beauty of such dances. It's about connection and touch and trust.
The turns make my head spin. And that never happens, I can do eight pique' turns without losing focus but now one turn makes me nauseous. I look at his eyes and just that. The little voice in my head tells me it's his effect on me, but I push her away and by god's grace we start the regular ballroom step.
"Was that okay?" Arjun asks with a frown.
"It was okay, not good or acceptable for the stage." I tell him honestly.
His thick eyebrows raise and jaw clenches. On second thought he nods.
"Practice will make it better." I bite back the 'don't worry' which was threatening to spill out of my mouth. But why? Am I mad at him? Hell man! I don't even know. I feel like I should, but I'm not. How can I be mad at someone like him?
Coz he's an annoying ass who hasn't grasped the concept of personal space at all?
But then he's been tolerating harmonal me pretty well, or so I think.
My mind keeps battling while we finish three rounds of the ballroom step and I whisper, "don't worry."
He looks at me and smiles and my belly flips.
Ooo what was that for?
It's him, you like him!!! My little miss inner sunshine swoons.
It's periods babe. Calm down. My conscious snorts.
I take a deep breath and channel all my energy into dancing and that alone. We take a pause after two more rounds. And I explain further. "The next step is called chasse chasse arabesque. I'm going to be doing most of it. You need to chasse twice and then support me while I jump up really high okay? This is how you do it," I explain and show it to him.
Arjun concentrates and roughly repeats it. Then he nods and I tentatively stand in front of him, my back to his front. Everything goes quiet and still for a moment. The air crackles as I hear and feel his minty breath hit my shoulders. I swallow and his hands intimately find my hips.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Him and Me
Teen Fiction"If you were a boy, I'd ask you to take off your t-shirt for spoiling mine." He retorts "If this wasn't a restaurant I'd slap you across your arrogant face". I spit with anger. Alia plays the role of Cinderella in her Ballet Academy. One fine night...
