[ Michael needs a distraction. It's too easy to follow her, the memory of her laugh, the scent of her skin, the look on her face when she'd left him, to a place he doesn't have the strength to come back from.
The man in front of him couldn't be more different. Sharp like a razor. He'll be a quick study.
Michael steps back and puts some space between them. He listens to the music, finds the rhythm, and follows it with the snap of his fingers. His brain is as accurate as any metronome. He is never off-beat.
The dance is something between a waltz and a foxtrot, like nothing he'd seen outside of this room. It rises, rolls and glides. Michael follows the movement pattern in his mind like a blueprint, and maps them onto the floor with his feet. Slow at first, one at a time, before linking them together.
He closes his eyes as the arms come in, but keeps his imaginary partner faceless and sexless. It takes everything in him not to think of her. ]
no subject
[ Michael needs a distraction. It's too easy to follow her, the memory of her laugh, the scent of her skin, the look on her face when she'd left him, to a place he doesn't have the strength to come back from.
The man in front of him couldn't be more different. Sharp like a razor. He'll be a quick study.
Michael steps back and puts some space between them. He listens to the music, finds the rhythm, and follows it with the snap of his fingers. His brain is as accurate as any metronome. He is never off-beat.
The dance is something between a waltz and a foxtrot, like nothing he'd seen outside of this room. It rises, rolls and glides. Michael follows the movement pattern in his mind like a blueprint, and maps them onto the floor with his feet. Slow at first, one at a time, before linking them together.
He closes his eyes as the arms come in, but keeps his imaginary partner faceless and sexless. It takes everything in him not to think of her. ]
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