Soft light slipped past the black curtained windows as the sun set in a red haze against the horizon. Voices and laughter could be heard, and as someone slammed on their brakes, I unconsciously waited for the crash to follow. Across the street, a trio was playing music from the old days, just like they did every Thursday around dusk.
Outside, the world just kept on moving and breathing, but inside this old, empty cafe, it held its breath. The air had an anxious feel to it as we looked at each other from the opposite sides of the room. It was too dark and we stood too far apart to see anything other than dark outlines of a human body and I squinted as I tried to make out any emotion on his face, overshadowed by a black sombrero. Knowing it wasn't very ladylike to take the first step, I waited impatiently, trying to hide my impatience by keeping my shoulders relaxed. The rhythmic sound of the ceiling fans lulled my mind into swaying motion as the trio's bolero turned into a heart-breaking tango. I stiffened as the voices of two young women joined the music, molding and shattering the music with their high-pitched tones. I averted my eyes to the floor and took a deep breath, breathing in the pain and sorrow coming from the women as they sang of unrequited love. Slowly, I opened my eyes, not having realized I had closed them in the first place, and brought my head up to look at him again. I stifled a gasp as I realized he had taken several steps forward and was now standing in the only beam of light slipping past the curtains. His black suit made him look sleek, yet classy, and the scarf added a touch of sophistication to the, presumably, very carefully selected outfit, as it complemented his lean physique in a way only expensive tailor-made suits could.
The sombrero was the only thing bothering me and I had the urge to rip it off and toss it, as it was the only thing preventing me from looking into his eyes.
The thought must have been projected on my face, as a sly grin passed over his lips and was gone again. Outside, the voices mingled with the music to give my body the irresistible urge to sway and, in the worst case scenario, dance until I couldn't breathe anymore. I could feel the strain from keeping my shoulders down in my back and I concentrated on my breath instead, not wanting him to see how anxious he was making me by just standing there, looking all smooth and dangerous and- oh god, not this again.
Before I could look away, he took a step forward and paused, then took another step. I lifted my chin up defiantly and carefully shifted my body weight to my left foot, preparing to take a step backward or forward, whichever would be necessary.
As he took another step forward, I unconsciously drew myself up to my full height and bit the inside of my lip, knowing that if I had taken a step forward too, I would have been able to touch his face, run my left hand over his suit, feel his breath on my neck as he grabbed my right hand and-
Mentally I shook myself, knowing where this train of thought would end, but not where this particular situation would lead to.
He slowly brought his head up and I stared at his face, for whatever reason in the world still being overshadowed by that increasingly annoying sombrero.
I could no longer suppressed the urge to see what he looked like and stepped forward, simultaneously bringing my right hand up to remove the sombrero, but he took hold of my hand before I could reach his face.
Before I consciously realized what was happening, he had his right hand firmly on the small of my back, still holding mine with his left.
He stood there, very still, waiting for me to gather my wits and place my left hand on his upper arm before he shifted to the right, moving me with him. Subtly, he guided me into moving backwards and sideways, maneuvering my eager body to do as he pleased. Twisting my upper body to the left and back to the right, I slid my right foot to the left in half a circle and brought it back to the front, before he set me into a delicate pattern of backwards walking and ochos, my crimson colored satin dress flowing with every move I- no, we made.
While dancing, our bodies got closer than the formal dance position we began with and started to feel more like an embrace between lovers than two complete strangers touching for the first time.
And as the song outside got to a climax, he guided me into moves, quick, slow, seductive moves with skill and passion unheard of, making me ache for more, more dancing but also more of him.
I could feel him end the dance as one voice died down while the other trailed on softly, and I clung onto him, wishing he wouldn't let go of my hand and would just stand here, our bodies close but not touching anymore, betraying an instinctive repellence to the dangerous and unknown.
We stood like that for one fulfilling heartbeat before he let go of my right hand and leaned back. As I turned my head to walk away, he slid his right hand into my left and gently pulled my hand up, not pulling me back entirely, but not letting me walk away, either. He turned my hand palm side up and placed something, taken out of his breast pocket, into it before folding my fingers into a fist and kissing me on my wrist. Letting go of my hand, he took a step back and touched his index finger to the rim of his sombrero, smiling as he brought his head up for the last of the sunrays to be reflected in his stunning blue eyes.
Wanting to preserve this image forever, I did nothing but stare at him, taking in those blue eyes in a handsome, young face, before the shadows consumed his features once more as he turned around and walked towards the door.
I know this was where I should have ran after him, asked him his name or where he came from, but I was too astonished to do anything more than stand there, with my left hand in a fist and a fluttering heart pounding in my throat.
As he opened the door, he turned around once more and nodded, before disappearing into the night while soft violin music poured into the room, chanting a love story to my foolish heart.
Feeling lost, I turned away from the door to be confronted with what he had placed inside my now open hand.