My Feeble Attempts at Fictions.
Wednesday 27 June 2012

The Moment

I think I've arrived there finally. Probably, more than a decade late. But almost there. Mere presence of someone in my vicinity is stirring me. I try to remember when was the last time I felt like this, if ever. 

His eyes are playing. More as his body moves with the rhythm. His feet flawless. 

He holds out his hands, I take them. They are surprisingly cold, for a man sweating so profusely. I pretend to play distracted, while he plays distant (I'd like to think he is playing it) for such small distance between our bodies. The pace of the rhythm increases, so does his, followed by my feet, almost involuntarily. Being led by him, on the dance floor, with my heels producing a sweet melody of their own to match with the Latin music, is intoxicating if I am not understating it. He pulls me in his arms and locks me in. I can feel his rapid breath on my neck. While he motions me in circles to the circumference of the dance floor, I can see our reflections in the huge mirrors. Visible difference in our heights. He is somewhere between six feet 2 and 3 inches while I can see an invisible foot ruler hanging on my head to reach his. 

He turns me around and I find myself looking into his eyes, feeling those broad shoulders under my fingers. God, he moves so swiftly. 
The sound of applause breaks my chant and I look around to see people looking appreciatively at us. He is standing beside me, with his arm around my waist. The charge between us, I'd give anything away to be here, at this moment.
The instructor approaches us and the next thing I know is he is gone. 

I fall back into reality with a thud. 
The moment has passed. 

As I collect my things, I see him at the far end of the gym, collecting his hand towel from his bag. He smiles at me. I return the smile. The formal smile. He is again, a person I know from the dance class, not my type, with an expression that clearly tell me that I am not his type either. But then, a question pops in my head 'what exactly is your type?' I decide to put it on halt, for later.
I say bye to almost everyone on my way to the exit. I start to say bye to him (the formal one) he interrupts to ask me if I am joining the new evening class, I say I haven't decided yet. 'It's going to be fun' he is telling me. 

He persuading me. That's my ego smiling sarcastically. 'I'll think' I say and step out of the exit door.