no era specified.
He pranced around the club, dancing and enjoying his own company, completely losing touch of all and any reality until he felt a light tap on his shoulder.
"Sorry ta knock you outta ya groove but Mike who is that?" His brother Marlon asked, stunned as he used his index finger to point towards the delectable woman that walked through the clubs open doors.
"I'm not sure but she sure is bangin'." He grinned, thinking over if he should approach her or not. He felt as if Marlon would snatch her away from him anyways, so what's the point?
"You can go holla at her, I'll be at the bar." Marlon said, waving him away as if he heard his thoughts.
"Word?"
"Word. I had the last girl, and the last girl, and the last girl so it's only fair if you get this one." He dapped Michael up and walked over to the bar to order a few drinks.
Michael slowly walked over to her, the closer he walked the more attracted to her he was. A few feet away from her he stood in awe as she began dancing to the new record that the DJ had put on. And my oh my was she an angel, divinity in motion, a dancing machine, the way she moved, swerved, danced, perfected to his liking to everybody's liking at that. Even Marlon had to stand up from the barstool just to watch her dance over the crowd of people that was quickly forming. The song ended and all you could hear was applause, loud and overbearing. As people began walking away Michael once again approached her.
"Hey." He began running his nimble fingers through his dark black curls.
"Hello, my love." She said rather seductively in reply, waiting for him to start a conversation.
"Uhm, you're an amazing dancer," his voice came out in a soft whisper- as he had unexpected her to come with such a provocative personality- his shyness overpowering any feeling of bravery that he might've had while coming over. "and I have no clue how long you'll be here but uh, can you save the last dance for me?"
"Depends, Mr...." she waited for him to finish her sentence.
"Jackson. But you can call me Michael for now."
"Depends, Michael. Can you dance?" She asks in a more calming tone of voice sensing his nervousness as she sized him up and down.
"How 'bout you come and find out?" He smirked while grabbing her hand and leading her back onto the dance floor.
They danced for what felt to them like minutes but to those around them felt like hours. They did the mashed potato, the twist and any other dance you could think of, you better believe they did it. They were both effortlessly light on their feet, both having been trained for many years in dancing.
After tirelessly dancing for hours at a time the two stopped and stumbled over to a bar seat.
Sweaty and out of breath, she broke the uncomfortable silence that sat between them.
"Seems you can dance..." she smirks arching an eyebrow.
He returns the smirk. "Yea, a little. Wish I could dance like you."
"You're a really good dancer. Practice your salsa some more and you'll be just like me." She stood up, giving an example of an accurate salsa, the ruffles on her short red skirt flying as she spun.
"I envy you." He grinned, lightly pushing her. "The way you move ain't fair y'know."
"I know you're tired from all the dancing but let me show you one more thing to improve your salsa." This time around she grabbed his hand and showed him to the dance floor. "Watch, listen, repeat. Hip, left hip, right." She ordered making sure his eyes stayed on her and her only.
"Your turn." She watched him and made critiques, watching as he inaudibly mouthed 'hip, left hip, right'. She grabbed his hips, looking up at his face to make sure he was okay with it. He nodded, holding onto his bottom lip with his teeth and his face burning with embarrassment. He could feel himself getting bricked up and a visible print sat on the outside of his black pants to show it.
Hands still on his hips she moved them how she felt they should be moved, trying to show him the way to go. She let go of his hips without warning and he kept going. He turned around for her to see a wide smile spreading across his face. It was obvious her critiques and "hands on lesson" worked.
"Thank you!" He smiled giving her a tight lovingly hug.
"It was no problem, honestly." She hugs him back, her nails lightly digging their way into his back.
"No, I've always wanted to learn how to salsa properly but I've never known my issues until now! How could I possibly thank you?" He exclaimed.
"I know a few ways you can thank her." Marlon muttered while walking past the two as if he was a stranger.
"Marlonshutthefuckup." Michael whispered to him aggressively, hoping she didn't hear what his brother had said and his response to it.
"Maybe we could hang out sometimes? Saturday maybe..." she asked completely disregarding anything that was said by Marlon.
"It's a date, 7:30 sound good?"
She nodded.
"I'll pick you up. Here's my number," he grabbed a napkin off of the table and pulled a pen from his back pocket. "Call me, sometimes." He winked. She gave him a kiss on the left side of his head, leaving a magenta lipstick print. Grinning while walking away, he was happy that he over came his shy ways for at least a moment so he could have a chance with a beautiful lady. A stunning lady. A dancer. The dancer.
His soul sister.
