Intensity of the Dance
Based on a true story
Claire tried to hide the grimace that splashed on her perfect face as Bret's arm slid around her waist. She wanted to move, to jump up or scream at the top of her lungs, anything to get away from that arm hugging her sides.
"Good morning, Claire love, how was your weekend," Bret Patterson crooned and kissed her forehead.
Claire winced and tried to scoot farther away without, should we say, alerting the enemy. "Good, I saw my… uh… Peter yesterday," Claire refused to use the term "uncle" to describe her, well, uncle. It was just a title that refused them any type of relationship they could have had.
Claire didn't even bother asking Bret how his weekend was. He was like that annoying fly who landed on your perfect piece of chocolate cake and so you couldn't eat it. She new the relationship was a fake, hell, everyone knew it was a fake. His touch didn't make her flesh feel like fire her hand in his didn't make her skin prickle. When he held her close it wasn't the same as when Peter did. Her chest constricted pleasurably and her breath came in gasps when Peters hand rested on her side as they swirled around the dance floor…
"Wow Claire, you look, stunning," Claire's skin tingled as Peters breath hit her neck. Her simple red dress dropped to just below her knees and the low-cut halter wasn't a bad touch either.
Nathan Petrelli had convinced them to go to one of his many functions. People spun around the dance floor and Nathan mingled with benefactors.
"Dance with me Peter," Claire pulled at his arms. He obliged, placing a hand on the small of her back and lead her onto the hardwood.
They swirled around the dance floor as Peter held her close. Claire gasped, the intensity of the dance was breathtaking. Step, spin, step, step, spin, precise in its own perfectness they whirled faster and faster. All eyes watched the unlikely pair spin around and around. The waltz, the cha-cha, the electric slide Claire felt like she could do anything in the world with Peter at her side. She struggled to fight back tears, for they both knew that they could be nothing more than just dance partners, because as much as she hated to admit It, he was her uncle.
Claire shuddered, for the fact was they were related and there was nothing she could do about it. It was her silent resolution to love Bryan, or was his name Bret, even if it killed her, and it just might. She would just have to forget about Peter and all his perfectness.
Maybe she could convince Peter to run away with her to Ireland… or something.
A/N: Short and to the point i think. Well, what are you doing just sittling there, tell me what you think!