Author's Note: So...I chose to write this. Inspired by 'Dancing with the Stars'--they were doing a tango. And as I watched, heard them explain about restrained passion blah blah blah, I was like...well, I have to write a little drabble.
See if you can figure out who it's about. If you don't get it, the last line gives it away. I mean, as in 'hey look, and are dancing' etc.
Please Read and Review
Tango
The band struck up a chord, the staccato tune beginning, filling the background with a steady beat. He quietly stood from his seat, crossing the room in a few swift steps, appearing in front of her and offering his gloved hand. At first, amber eyes looked at him, perplexed; finally she raised her one hand and took his offered hand, getting to her feet.
"May I have this dance?"
His voice was low, thrumming against the stern beat of the music. A few others watched the developments, curious. The dark-haired man did not wait for her response—though if he did, nobody saw her reply—and swept her to the dance floor.
It had never struck him before. They rarely danced; it was often at the few and far between military functions or the occasional wedding, and even then they maintained their distance. Perhaps a dance or two throughout the event. But for partners who seldom shared a dance, they moved with fluidity that practiced partners could not perfect.
It was a tango. The man was leading her through a perfectly executed tango. Supposedly a particularly distant dance, there was something disturbingly erotic about the way they moved. Their arms were held stiffly, distance kept between their faces, looking in the opposite direction as they swung about the dance floor.
With nearly half a meter in between their bodies as they danced, they seemed closer than he had ever seen them. Every step they took was passionate; the quick snaps of their heads to the music as properly executed as if the entire thing had been previously choreographed and practiced several times before this impromptu performance.
And when the music came to a stop, he dipped her low—to the point where her released cornflower-yellow tresses scraped against the floor, before swinging her back upright, his fingers still tightly entwined with her.
The music picked up pace, and for a moment amber and onyx eyes stared at each other. They seemed to consider leaving the dance floor. But she leaned into his shoulder, murmuring something into his ear, and their steps resumed. Again, they filled the area with the unrestrained passion of a couple that could only share their affection on a dance floor.
Maes Hughes learned quite a long time ago that he loved watching Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang dance.