Let the music move you.

It was something of fairy tale material. No, I take that back. There was nothing fairy tale about it. There was no chiming of midnight, no uncertainty of identification, no happily-ever-after that we all dream about at points in our lives. It was just a runaway romance, a moment of stolen intimacy that no one will know about. It will continue to play in my mind several times over, occasionally altered because of the gaps my mind fills in.

To an extent, it wasn't as secretive as I think it to be. Surrounded by bodies, either moving or sitting, aware and unaware of the others around them. Body pressed against mine, a strong hand in the small of my back, fingers laced into mine as he spins me across the floor, not bothering to watch where we are going. Let the others move. Let them watch in awe and wonder as we sweep across, two bodies nearly joined as one, movement to the music, difficult to discern where he ends and I begin.

It is a whirlwind. Physically. Mentally. As he whisked me in circles, I saw nothing but a blur surrounding his face, his deep brown eyes that, at times, I could not bear to face and look within. Intimidating, I found trouble standing up to him. Only around the corner, away from the music, beneath harsh fluorescent lights, could I hear what he was saying. Still, I can only look into the eyes that leave me unnerved but for a few moments. What is it that I fear? Do I fear that he can see inside me, see things that I do not want to admit even to myself?

Against the wall, push pins pressing into my back. Too nervous, tired, excited to notice. Strong, sure, steady fingers trail down my arm and then return to my neck. Fingers grasp neck and I can feel the bodies closing in on each other, as magnets gravitate to one another. Lips pressed into mine, a sort of force as they part. Legs left trembling, unstable. One knee bent, foot resting on the wall. My fingers are on autopilot, finding the back of his neck, inching their way through thick, coarse black hair, clasping, holding on tightly.

Stolen romance and intimacy. My mind fills in the gaps.

I wish it had been someone else.