headmaster styles.

Subtle Wishes

Wishful thinking leads to wishful doings.

February 20, 2012

The Bently Mansion's Gym

His classic movements made me melt where I stood, but I couldn't dance. He was dancing alone, pretending that he had a dancer in his arms.

"I don't want to dance, Mr. Styles." I whined, taking a step back. I had changed into the clothes he made me change into, which consisted of a black spandex tank­top and a black skirt.

"Well I want you to dance. Can you at least do something for me?" He stopped dancing and pushed his hands into his pockets.

I spun in a small circle and chills went down my body. So I spun again. And I loved i​t.

Dancing is immature for a young lady, Anastasia.

I stopped spinning and gave Harry a small smile. "I don't like dancing alone."

He then grabbed my hand and pulled me close. "Then dance with me."

I nodded my head and he placed his hand on the small of my back, making me smile. I couldn't help the overpowering chills that I was having. His hand clasped in mine and put my other hand on his shoulder. His fingers pressed into my back, and we began to move around.

Spin after spin, smile after smile. I enjoyed d​ancing with this man.

He put both of his hands on my back and bent me over, making me arch my back, then he pulled me right back up and twirled me around.

"You're amazing." I muttered and his eyes met mine.

"You were moving just as amazing as I was. I've never seen anything like you, Anastasia." He smiled and I looked down, biting my lip.

We danced one more time, and I thought we were going to leave, but he walked over to the recording booth.

"What are you doing?" I asked, walking over to him.

"Today is dance day as well as music."

H​e sings?!

"You can sing?" I couldn't hide my squeaking, excited voice.

"Yes." He laughed a little.

"What do you want me to sing?" I was silent, and he shrugged his shoulder and turned the recording mic on, "If you just walked away, what could I really say? Would it matter anyway? Would it change how you feel?" Dear God, have I died and gone to heaven? "I am the mess you chose. The closet you cannot close. The devil in you I suppose. Cause the wounds never heal." I slid down the wall as he proceeded to the chorus. "But everything changes if I could, turn back the years if you could, learn to forgive me, than I could learn to feel.​"

"Why did you stop?" I stood back up and looked at him.

"What's wrong?"

He looked up and asked, "Do you wanna sing a song?"

"Oh no. No, no, no. I don't sing. I used to sing in Sunday school when I was little, but things change." I shook my head and he stood up, grabbing my shoulders and making me sit down in the stool. "Mr. Styles, I don't want to sing."

"You didn't want to dance either. Sing a song that relates to your problem right now. Like, sing a song that rules your life at the moment." He began to smile like it was going to be a good song.

I took a deep breath, and began to sing. "I​ don't ever ask you, where you've been. And I don't feel the need to, know who you're with. I can't even think straight, but I can tell. That you were just with her. And I'll still be a fool. I'm a fool for you."​ I took another deep breath, "Just a little bit of your heart, just a little bit of your heart. Just a little bit of your heart is all I want. Just a little bit of your heart, just a little bit of your heart. Just a little bit is all I'm asking for."​