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"Right foot, left foot and turn." Your dance teacher instructed you as you took a deep breath in and did as you were told. Both of your footsteps echo on the wooden floor in the dance studio. Suddenly he stopped you, making you jump, by grabbing a hold of your arm rather forcefully. His icy blue eyes stared into your soul and he wrapped his toned arm around your waist. His left hand, though slightly sweaty, clasped yours tightly and you felt your heartbeat quicken.
"You did the steps the wrong way round." Elvis muttered moodily, causing you to huff in annoyance. It was obvious he didn't want to be here teaching you and he only did it as a favour for your father. Elvis, though handsome, could be so grumpy and unkind although he could also be the sweetest guy alive when he wanted to be. Your family had known Elvis since he lived in the streets and your father helped get him this job at Kellermans resort, where he was the dance instructor. You had barely seen him in 4 years, he always appeared to avoid you.
Having known you since you were young, he always called you baby, which felt slightly patronising now that you were a grown woman. You had decided to do him a favour and stupidly let your father sweet talk you into doing a performance with Elvis to save his ass, seen as his own dance partner had dropped out for unknown purposes.
Staring at his nude lips which curled slightly as he continued to mumble critiques you felt you temper beginning to rise. Flinging your arms apart from his, you stomped away, turning around to see his thick brows furrow and lips pout in annoyance. "STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! DO YOU THINK THIS IS HOW I WANT TO SPEND MY TIME? YOU WONT SHOW ME THE LIFTS, I CANT DO THE TURNS AND YET I'M DOING ALL THIS TO SAVE YOUR ASS!" Your sudden outburst shocks Elvis who stands still, chest rising and falling steadily underneath his black shirt which outlines his muscles perfectly. His nostrils flare and you can physically see him trying to swallow the rude remarks he wants to make, because deep down he knew he needed you for this performance.
In silence, Elvis strides towards you, towering tall above your small frame, staring down at you sullenly. His jaw clenches and his blue eyes flicker over your face, trying to think of something to say to you. A single strand of raven black hair falls delicately across his tan forehead, making you swallow uncomfortably because you find him so attractive when angry. He lets out a sigh which fans his minty breath across your cheeks.
Elvis grabs your hand, almost violently, pulling your arm and making you follow him. He quickly stomps outside and you have to take double the amount of steps to keep up with him. "Stop!" You protest loudly, trying to dig your heels into the ground but Elvis continues walking and staring straight ahead. Outside is pouring down with rain, dampening your hair so that it lies in a mop around your head. Raindrops stay on your thick eyelashes, falling over your cheeks every time you blink. Your wrist is now red from Elvis's firm grip and you stop protesting and follow obediently, the only sounds being the rain and your footsteps in the mud.
