Ben's body shook uncontrollably. Never in his whole life had he ever met a challenge that actually frightened him to the point where he was on the verge of declining it. Sweat beads were building in his long brown hair and his green eyes flickered like a raging car. What could have such a courageous ten year old boy so nervous?
Dancing.
On their way to some mall up north, Max thought it was a good idea to stop by and participate in Camille's wedding. Ben had been chosen as the ring bearer and Gwen the flower girl. It wasn't until this very night did Ben finally understand what he really had to do. He had to dance with Gwen.
He stared out from the bathroom door at the dance floor. Gwen was sitting at a table – alone – waiting for him to come out. She didn't look too excited about anything around her. Everyone was up moving, smiling and laughing as if forgetting the problems of the world. However, Gwen was left lonely at a table with not a single hint of happiness on her flawless face.
Ben's gut was doing flips as he prepared for the inevitable. Not only was he nervous about dancing with her, but he was self-conscious about his own dancing skills. Sure, Gwen had helped him learn the basics of dancing in the Rust Bucket the night before, but that only fueled his nervous tension. They had been so close – holding one another's hands. It made Ben feel uncomfortable, but, oddly enough, not in a bad way.
For some reason he craved the feeling of being able to hold her soft, flower-scented hands once more. But he was unsure of what she would think if he was overly-eager to dance with her.
What if she makes fun of me? What if I trip and everyone laughs? Those were just a few of his thoughts that he had used to bring himself down.
Suddenly, the bathroom door that he had been peering through from the inside was pulled open. Nearly falling, Ben looked up to see who had performed the accident. He was relieved to find out that it was only his grandfather – Max.
"Ben?" the older man questioned, "Aren't you supposed to be out there dancing?"
Ben, not wanting to reveal his reasons for not dancing with Gwen, plastered a goofy grin on his face. "Yeah, I was just...going to the bathroom so I wouldn't look stupid or anything."
The young boy's face was beat red. Who would tell anyone that they were nervous of dancing with their cousin because of...a possible crush? Not Ben.
"Well...alright. I want to get some pictures of you two before we go. Your parents are going to be so surprised when they see you in that tux. You know, it was your father's before you."
"Yeah yeah," Ben chided having heard the story before, "I know."
With that, Ben exited the bathroom door and slowly walked towards the table Gwen was sitting at. Her orange hair shone in the bright lights that were strung from the ceiling and her green eyes sparkled like polished gems. She was beautiful, and Ben was sure that he wouldn't be able to calmly dance with her.
Attempting to do the impossible, Ben found the longest route to the table and took it – hoping the wedding dance session would end before he got to the destination.
Unfortunately for him, the way he took only shaved a few minutes off the trip. He was now standing behind his cousin waiting for the right words to come to his mind.
"Uh, hey. Y-you...ready?" His words came out without confidence or reassurance. They were hesitant and weary.
Gwen turned around and Ben swore he could see her eyes get brighter. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for you."
Ben swallowed nervously. She has?
"You're going to make us miss the whole dance. What did you do? Fall in?"
"No..." Ben began, but was suddenly grabbed by his arm and pulled to the center of the dance floor. Gwen took hold of both of his hands and they began to move in the same rhythm as they had when practicing in the RV.
They whirled in perfect fashion, and no one even bothered to pay attention to them. Ben was glad for this fact, as he didn't want anyone to notice his increasingly reddening face.
Ben then turned his focus back to Gwen. She was staring directly into his eyes – just like she had last night during their practice session before Max interrupted them.
Gwen felt the heat of Ben's body and their hands began to sweat as they stayed clamped together. Seeing her sweaty hands as an opportunity to get closer to him, she pleaded a request.
"Ben, do you mind if we dance in a more...traditional way? My hands are kinda getting sweaty."
Ben could definitely feel the sweat building up in between their bond. "What do you mean more traditional?" he asked with more interest than curiosity.
Feeling frustrated from her cousin's ignorance, her face was turning red as she knew what she had to do. Gwen had to show him what she meant.
"Well..." she started nervously, "I mean like this." Gwen took Ben's left hand and placed it around the waist of her blue and white dress. Her mind sparked a bit as she felt his hand tighten – pulling them closer.
Ben was lost in a world of confusion. Why would she even suggest doing that... he wondered delightfully. The sensation of being able to hold her – when she's not unconscious from a battle with aliens – was heart-filling.
They continued to dance together, being only inches apart, until they both began to tire. People around them danced slowly and calmly – not showing any signs or growing drowsy.
Ben wanted to pull away and go sit back at a table and fall asleep, but he didn't want to break the moment. This was probably they only time that he would ever get to be so close to her, and to actually hold her. It was completely unlike him to feel any sort of consent for anyone.
Unexpectedly, Gwen moved closer to Ben and laid her head on his shoulders. Ben shuddered a bit but quickly relaxed. He hadn't ever hoped to dance with her like this, and he never imagined that she would appear to enjoy it – or even feel comfortable dancing with him.
He could smell the strawberry scent of her bright orange hair. Ben imagined being in a garden alone - with her - dancing together as they held on to each other.
Gwen took a deep - and cautious - breath that was filled with hiccups, which made it almost appear as if she was crying. The whole moment was fragile, and she was afraid a sudden movement would shatter it.
Something about the whole moment made Ben's stomach tingle and his head light.
Maybe dancing was the best thing he ever learned how to do?