Dance with Me [h.s] (Completed)

Chapter 83

The three of them get to their hotel in the city and check in. Grosvenor House is in a regal building in the posh area of London. Zayn and CiCi had booked one room with a king sized bed—the cheapest they could get. CiCi is really regretting that now. She is still angry with him. He shattered all her trust by letting her crash and burn like that. Years of training completely wasted. Years of friendship potentially gone now too. She doesn't know how to forgive him.

Harry on the other hand has booked an entire suite, with a separate bedroom and a large sitting area. He invites CiCi to the room to practice. It's eight o'clock at night, London time, but CiCi agrees because she knows they need it. She thinks back to all the time she wasted training with Zayn or Adrian when it could have been Harry, but she shakes the thoughts away or else she'll fixate on them and never be able to let it go.

They push back the couches and tables, creating space to dance. The two of them spend a few hours going through their routines. He sets up a tripod with his phone on it and records them dancing so they can watch it back and look for areas to improve in. They are both shocked when they don't find any. Dancing with each other has always felt like the most natural thing they've ever done. They don't have to think too hard about it, their bodies seem to respond before their brains tell them to.

The chemistry between the two of them is palpable. You could watch them do something mundane like bake bread and be completely transfixed. Wondering who was going to touch who's arm. Observing the small smiles they share. The eyes that search the other's. The unspoken language that only they seem to know. You can practically see their hearts beating for each other.

But Harry can feel CiCi holding back from him—the trust isn't there like it was before and he knows he needs to tell her everything before the competition starts on Friday. And he's right. CiCi is holding back. Because she loves Harry. She wants to know that he can be there for her when it means something. That everything they've been through has been worth it. All the lies and the secrets can finally be revealed. Until then, she has to force herself to hold back from him. But it's getting more difficult by the second.

"I'll walk you back to your room," he tells her.

"That's not necessary," she argues weakly.

"You have a knack for finding danger in seemingly safe situations," he says smirking at her.

She nods her head in approval and they leave his room and make their way to the elevator. Harry reaches past her to press the button, lighting it up a warm white. The proximity has made CiCi go absolutely still, holding her breath. When he pulls back to stand behind her again, he watches her release the air through her mouth, her lips forming an 'O' shape. They don't wait long but they feel the tension between them. Both trying to contain the spark they feel for each other but it's as if it's radiating off of them in waves—a current of electricity. Their situation doesn't improve when the elevator doors open and they get inside. All of that electricity now has nowhere to go and they can feel the pull of it to each other—like seeking like.

CiCi leans her back against the mirrored wall, facing him. Her eyes drift lazily up his body. His tight black jeans barely containing his muscular thighs. His simple white t-shirt that if she focuses hard enough she can make out the tattoos it's hiding. His new shorter hair is the last thing she admires. It might be the worst part of holding herself back from him—not being able to know what his new haircut feels like between her fingers.

"Harry?" her voice coming out a hair above a whisper but Harry responds right away, stepping towards her.

His own eyes had been drawing a map of their own down her body. All the places that he longed to touch again. When he had noticed her checking him out too, he couldn't get to her quickly enough.