"I have lived in this city for a very long time, but I have never really taken the time to enjoy it," Miranda said.
Bucky's hand was warm in hers. A cool summer breeze whispered over her skin, raising goosebumps, and she shivered. He glanced over at her and she smiled at him. It was a small smile, but she could feel the realness of it down to the tingle in her toes. His fingers tightened around hers.
"I've done most of my exploring after dark. I preferred the ambiguity of it," he said. "There are some remarkable things to experience in this city at night."
He turned off the sidewalk and onto a slim cobblestone path that threaded its way between the dense outstretched arms of low hanging foliage. It left them entirely immersed in the dark. Her grip on him tightened. When the pathway broadened again, they were inside a garden. Miranda took in a breath.
It was as though they had been submerged into the belly of some fantastical beast. Trees arched overhead, tall and slim and pale, like ribs against the dark sky. Strands of cafe lights had been draped through the trees, bathing the space in warm light. Flowers bloomed at their feet, bushes brimming with blossoms. In the distance, she could hear faint cords of music.
"This way."
His voice was barely a whisper as he pulled her deeper into the garden. The music became louder as they moved down the pathway. She could hear laughter, people talking, the clink of glassware. They stepped into a small bricked alcove above what looked to be the general seating and dance floor for the gathering. A line of trees and flowers separated them from the small crowd, leaving them unnoticed.
A band had been assembled on a makeshift stage. A piano, cellist and drum set fought for footage at the back for stage. The singer was a young man, his eyes closed as he serenaded his audience, his voice low and smooth. An assortment of string instruments flanked him.
"What is this place?"
"Every weekend a local college hosts concerts in the garden. I like the music."
It was a modern, soulful indie track. Several couples swayed in the space that had been cleared at the front of the tables.
Her smile turned sly. "Did you bring me back here to show me what this 'real dancing' looks like?"
He brought her hand up, settling it over his. The warm light of the cafe lights glinted off his metal hand. "It's been a very long time since I took a girl dancing. A lifetime ago."
"I expect to be dazzled."
He smiled at her and she took an unsteady breath. The things she would do to keep that smile on his face. He squared his shoulders and brought his feet together. Eyes closed, he listened to the music, his body swaying lightly as he worked at the rhythm. A warmth spread through her chest as she watched him, a fondness she was not sure she had ever felt before.
Dangerous, a voice chided. Dangerous waters.
He opened his eyes and stepped into her. Caught off guard, she shuffled to keep up. He laughed lightly. "It's okay if you don't know how to dance."
She glared at him. "I know how to dance. You just surprised me."
They settled into a rhythm, moving around the open space. He stepped in, then moved away, a gentle press or tug on her hand moving her easily around him. She couldn't stop her smile. "What I want to know is how you know how to dance."
He spun her out then pulled her in, her back against his chest. He dipped to the side and she let herself curve in his arms. His mouth hovered over her throat for just a moment, his breath warm on her skin and she fought back the shiver that rose in response. Then he brought her back to center.
"My sister took dance classes. She needed a partner. Besides, back then women liked to go dancing."
"Men these days are ashamed of learning to dance. It is really a travesty."
"You like a man who can dance?"
They moved together, smooth and unhesitating. Their bodies were only inches apart. She leaned into him, the smell of his cologne was faint. "I like a man with stamina."
They twisted and turned as the song reached its climax, but she knew that he had caught a glimpse of her devilish smile. A flush had risen at his collar, and a light sweat dampened his palm. And then she was laughing.
"What?" He eyed her suspiciously.
"Do you not see the humor in this? Even just a little? To be who we are, what we are, and yet act as though we are an average couple stealing a dance alone together in the night."
"I think, after everything we have survived, it is owed to us."
"Cashing in your IOU to the universe?"
"Even we deserve happiness, Em."
Even we deserve happiness.
Em.
The words left her breathless. They soothed a part of her that had laid in the shadows of her mind for years. The part of her that had torn her down, destroyed any ounce of self worth. This man knew what it was like to feel like you were less. To look at your life, at what you were created to be and see nothing but destruction. That you are nothing. Barely more than a screwdriver in a toolbox. And yet, she was something to him.
The desire to kiss him senseless, to feel his body pressed in against hers was so strong it left her breathless. He spun her out but she did not come back to him. Instead she took one testing step back towards the dark behind her. After a moment he followed her. Leaving behind the rasping ballad.
She drew him closer, her hands on his neck, and kissed him. His hands were on her waist, her back, her shoulders. They stumbled backward, entirely enveloped by the dark now. She knew what could happen in the seclusion of the night. How hands suddenly became bolder, mouths braver. And she hoped desperately for it.
Her back met the gnarled bark of a broad oak tree, and he pressed in. All she could smell, all she could feel was him. Her world had narrowed to this single man, to the feel of his mouth on her skin, his hands in her hair, and was not sure she ever wanted anything more ever again.
His mouth hovered over hers, and then he hesitated. "Are you sure?"
"Sure?" She asked, dazed, drunk on the taste of him.
"About me?"
"I've never been so sure about anything in my entire existence."