One to Ten

He could see her dancing from the corner of his eye. She was the star of the dancefloor, perfect and untouchable. There was a violet glint in her eye as she turned.

He could beat her at her own game.

She saw the boy, the smirk on his face as his body moved perfectly with the music. He didn't have to wait for the music because he commanded the song.

She tired to keep up with him, please the crowd with her graceful moves while he danced with power. She twirled her little ballet twirl and he smiled.

He stomped and spun and jumped and the crowd cheered him on.

I win. he thought and landed back on the ground as the song ended.

In the few moments between songs, the two walked towards each other. The girl was charming. Her stick-straight copper hair hung down her back, her green eyes tinted with violet could burn holes in him. Her skin was milk white and almost glowing. He could tell her forte was ballet, and that made him smirk.

She eyed this boy warily in the moment before the song changed. His hair fell past his ears in gentle waves and his blue eyes matched the sky so perfectly it was almost shocking.

The disco ball above them flecked glamorous sparkles of light here and there, revealing to her his lightly tanned complextion.

The song started. It was a song only these underground dance clubs would play. If she'd never gone to a club like that, she would have never heard the song before.

He gave her a split second and he was off on his feet. The crowd had gathered around the two, knowing a dance battle was in order.

She watched him move, how his whole body let loose into the song. She was almost jealous. Almost.

When he turned back around to face her, she started. Up on tiptoes and spinning one, two, three, four, five times in a row just like that. She jumped as high as her legs would spring her and forced her legs into a split. He looked impressed when she landed, but it was easy for her.

He did a move and she did another until both were nearly exhausted. It was too close to call. Wouldn't this get out of hand at some point?

So he took her hand and her waist and her spun her around.

She was hesitant at first. The only partner dancing she'd done was for ballet. But it seemed so natural.

She danced around him like a tramp, flaunted all she had.

He smirked and grabbed her again. Their hips pushed together, they moved like one, the beats in the song coming less than a second apart. He tiltled her back and she lifted her leg into a 180.

He lifted her by the waist and picked her up off the ground with ease. She watched his arm muscles move. They didn't look like much but they sure were powerful. She balanced her waist in his sturdy hand and reached for the stars.

He slowly brought her back down and they danced close, their lips just inches apart. She watched the beads of sweat roll down his face with lust and traveled downwards, shimmying to the music down his torso with her hands.

Only she could hear the moan escape his lips. If this were to last any longer, it would be called sex on the dancefloor.

She spun around again, just three turns this time, and caught his hand and his waist. They jumped and danced, their hips rubbing intimately together, until the last beats of the music were heard.

They broke apart and heard the ferocious roar of applause. They walked over to the bar together and regained their breath.

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. She smiled as a response. Body language is key when you're a dancer.

He took her home and they danced the night away.