Dance with Me [h.s] (Completed)

Chapter 21

On Wednesday, I arrive early at the studio again and Harry looks pleased to see me.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" he says to me, happily.

"Good morning, Bossman," I say in return, winking.

He shakes his head at my response, chuckling a bit at the nickname I have given him.

"Looks like you woke up in a good mood, in your own bed?" he asks, being nosy.

"Where else would I wake up?" I say, dodging his question even though I know why he wants me to answer.

"Zayn's?"

"Why would I wake up in his bed?" I again deflect his question with a question.

"Aren't you dating?"

I look at him deciding if I'll answer his question or not but the door opens and Zayn walks in. I'm glad for the distraction and greet Zayn with a hello.

Harry pulls up our Paso Doble video on his laptop and we watch it together as he critiques it. He wants me to wear a different dress and says he has a seamstress he knows that I can use. He hands me a long satiny skirt to put on over top of my shorts to practice in and then he begins running through the new routine he has planned for us.

I know the minute he starts that he is the embodiment of this dance. Strong and masculine, but also soft when he needs to be. I'm completely distracted by him and I lose count a few times. After lunch, when I feel like I've learned the whole routine, I ask Harry if him and I can run through it once more, before I dance the full routine with Zayn.

I focus my mind and try to feed off of his energy, lifting myself to his level as best as I can. I've never felt strong enough for this dance before, always feeling like a little girl playing make believe. Not with Harry. I feel like the fierce bull who is teasing and goading him as much as him, the matador, is doing it to me. For every intense stare he gives me, I give him one back. He stomps his feet and I swish my dress with more bravado than I've ever had. I know our lines look great, the height difference between us giving a much better juxtaposition than Zayn and I do.

He spins me quickly during the dance and after I turn he grabs me so firmly to stop my rotation that I let out a small gasp of air. He hears it though and before we start moving again, his mouth curls up into the smallest of smiles before it goes back to neutral. He stalks around me at one point like the predator he is portraying in the dance and I can feel goosebumps spread along my skin when I feel his eyes on me.

We had decided to keep our original ending and so we close the dance with me draped over his bent leg with my head and feet touching on both sides. To execute it, I have to trust him completely that he won't let my head smash into the floor. If I don't, the ending will look silly instead of a triumph. I let go completely and fall dramatically backwards, harder than I've ever fallen when I've danced with Zayn and at the last possible moment he catches me, ensuring me and my skull are safe. And I know we've nailed it.

I'm breathing heavy. And I'm scared. Utterly terrified to stand up and look at Zayn. I know, without a doubt, that what Harry and I just performed was sensational; that was the best dance I've ever danced. I'm incredibly nervous to look at my partner's reaction. I feel Harry start to lift my body and his eyes meet mine for only a second and it's like he knows too. With just a flicker of a look, he knows.

I stand and fix my skirt, spending way too much time smoothing it out. When I finally look up, Zayn's eyes are on me and I know that he knows. Now everyone in the room has confirmed without speaking, that that dance was the best I've ever done. One person was smug, one person was nervous and one person was feeling weak because of it.