The music starts – its tempo and rhythms define the dance. He approaches her table, and extends an inviting hand. She accepts. They take to the floor. He offers a hand and a frame. Again, she accepts, but looks away while in hold as if to say, “I’ll dance – but I’m not interested.”
They move to the music’s sharp, fiery rhythms that are intertwined with sensuality. Their eyes continue gazing in opposite directions to avoid a visual connection – yet, their bodies touch.
They dance – they move – sometimes slow – sometimes fast – but always sharp and to rhythm.
He rolls her out – they flick in unison. He tugs to rolls her back into his arms. She shrugs him off by returning to hold with her head turned away. Their steps continue.
He steps back – a lunge – a corté. She steps forward and raises her leg against his, and slowly moves it downward as a caress. He notices – she’s got his attention. As he returns her to upright, their eyes connect through a glimpse – yet each looks away.
The pace seeming hastens. The musical beat remains steady. Their moves remain sharp. Their eyes are starting to communicate to the other through glances.
She leans her body into him and her head is no longer facing away. They lock their eyes for the first time, and her eyes and face speak to him when. She places her head on his chest.
The normally sharp fans are now slow and smooth – yet still to the music’s rhythm. As she turns, his right hand slides naturally along her sleek frame. He notices the curvature of her hips. His head is not as high as he looks toward her with hopes of connecting again.
To him, her face displays desire. Her eyes are closed, but only she knows why. They are now in another place. To him, they are in the midst of passion. To her, she is the seductress who has succumbed to his fantasy.
He responds to the music’s fire with 8 fast steps down the floor. He rolls out as before, but on her return, she is close – and her right hand slowly caresses his face. The music ends.
Caught up within the moment, the burning passion created through the music and rhythm continues to course throughout their entwined bodies. They ignore the silence.
He outstretches his arm, she takes his hand and spins away.
He pulls her back and stands behind her. His hand caressing her stomach. They continue to sway in unison. Circle in unison.
And they stop in unison.
He goes his way, she hers.
No words. Just an acknowledging glance.
Frank recently challenged me, well lots of folk actually and I was one of them, to write an ending to one of his stories, in 75 words or less. I kind of did it in 75 words. Well, I added an extra 75 words at the end which actually left the story open, rather than ending it, but the scene ended. I’ve highlighted my bit in blue for clarity.
Who were they? Would their passions be reignited again? Will they meet again for that matter? I suppose Frank will have to be the person to provide these details at a later time.
I must admit I’m not a gracious dancer. In fact, I fall over with more grace than I dance. I have two flat left feet, you see. And because of the heat, a couple of swollen ankles thrown in to the mix… but I digress. I hope my lack of dancing prowess didn’t completely show through as I tried to show the couple’s extended dance routine.
By clicking on the image at the beginning of this post, you will go to Frank’s site.
Quick Edit: The image above links to the details of the challenge, click here to go to the challenge post itself!
And finally, an apology.
Frank, I’m sorry, but I’d somehow managed to un-follow you, goodness knows how or when, and as such I haven’t been receiving notifications of when you posted. I’ve rectified that now, so I should be able to catch up with your postings from the next time you post.
I follow through the WordPress reader, so from there I click through to the latest posts to appear… I’m wondering now if I’ve un-followed anyone else.
My Inner Detective is leaping at the chance to investigate this further…
The Mansionic Perspective 
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