I stumbled upon this blog some time ago, and once in awhile when I'm bored reading my academic journals, I will read her past writings. I truly enjoy the way she shares her thoughts and emotions. This story entitled, 'The Dance' is a simple love story that one cannot not love reading it.
The Dance
He can hear the laughter in her throat before she even cracks a smile. There are couples all around them dancing, kissing and talking. She slips her arms from around his neck, as the laughter escapes her lips and she leans back into his arms. His arms are at her waist and hold her firm as she does that intoxicating sway from one side to the other, her long hair falling down her back and brushing his arms. He's forgotten what he said to make her laugh, all he can think about is that when she finishes her signature move, her arms will wrap back around him, her hands will grab hold of his hair and pull his lips to hers. She'll kiss him with the smile still on her lips. When he has forgotten where they are and what his own name is, she'll pull away, but not a moment sooner.
He supposes that she is fully aware of her power over him and he has never been so willing to be led. Her head rests on his shoulder; he is drunk on the smell of her hair. There is no room between them, but he pulls her tighter anyway. She sighs into him and whispers so softly her love for him. This is what happiness is. This is what it means to be alive and well. He never wants to leave this dance floor but he knows he'll follow her to the ends of the earth.
If he could stop the clock he would. He can't imagine life has anything more perfect than this to offer. No amount of money, success or worldly gain could compare to her here in his arms. If he were allow the doubt or fears to enter, he would steal away the pure pleasure of this moment.
So, he does not see the future, the pain and betrayal that lays ahead. He is blind to the warning signs, deaf to the cautions of his friends. He can not fathom that one day his heart will break and he'll wonder if he'll ever know happiness again. His mind doesn't understand that there will be a day that she will no longer be in his arms and in his every thought.
Right now, all he knows is that she is here. She has chosen him. He can only believe that this will last forever, that her lips will always call to him and he will always respond. As she whispers her thoughts and dreams to him, he closes his eyes and allows himself to believe that he will be there to see them come true.
She can't really hear what he has said, but she knows she is supposed to laugh. Knowing what is expected is enough to let the sound start within her. She can see the pleasure in his eyes as she leans back at the waist out of his arms. She does this to prove that he'll hold on to her, because she is never completely sure. His arms hold her tight and she rests back into him. Her hands weave into his hair and she pulls him in to kiss. She is afraid he'll refuse, that this will be the time he realizes he doesn't want her anymore. They are surrounded by other couples and she can't help but think that he could have any other girl there. He has chosen her but she doesn't know why. She rests her head on his shoulder willing him to stay close and somehow finds a space to fill where none would have been seen. She whispers how much she loves him, reminding him that he made a good choice. Desperate to prove that she's good enough for him.
She would love to race ahead and see what happens to them. She can't be content with right now, for it seems too good to be true. She isn't worthy of this kind of love, she's not capable of believing it will last. She wants to enjoy this moment, but she can't.
She tries to think of the words of love he's spoken; of the things he's done for her. She remembers her friend's encouragement. They have been together for what passes as a long time around here. She clings to promises he's made, looks he gives her in a moment of passion and treasures them in her heart. She pushes away the past that has taught her she's no good and wills herself to remember he is here with her now, speaking of the future.
She hopes that he will always want her kisses; always want her by his side. She blinks back the tears of mingled pain and pleasure. Her fingers grip tighter on his hair. If she can hold on tight enough, maybe they won't be pulled apart. Maybe she can stop what seems inevitable.

p/s: I think one of the sexiest dance scenes I've ever seen was in Mr & Mrs Smith.
It was so hot that I think there was murder on the dance floor.