roommates | l.s (unedited)

30 · dance

Chapter Thirty | Louis' P.O.V.

"Nope. Not happening," I shake my head, laughing. "I don't dance."

"Oh, come on," he counters. "Everyone dances."

"Lies," I protest. "You only say that because you haven't seen me dance yet."

"So you admit that you dance?" He raises an eyebrow, questioning me, and I shake my head.

"No way, Harry, no one wants to see that."

"I do."

I chew on my bottom lip, not sure how to respond. Something about the tone of his voice makes me want to give in and dance with him, though I'm not too sure how that will go.

"Okay, okay, one dance," I sigh. His eyes light up and he grabs my hands, guiding me to the dancefloor. However this ends, it won't end well.

A/N: the song playing is Freaky by Tory Lanez

I feel beyond uncomfortable, surrounded by sweating bodies that constantly press against mine. Not to mention the lack of distance between me and Harry; I'm practically pressed up against him. Not that I mind, but it's still quite awkward.

"Just move to the music," Harry laughs.

I would if I knew how to. I'm awkwardly swaying way offbeat, nervous that I'll do something that foolish and embarrass myself in front of Harry.

"Have you seriously never danced at a party?" he asks in astonishment.

"Does it show?" I ask sarcastically, making him laugh some more.

He shakes his head, looking me up and down. "You're horrible," he concludes.

"I told you I don't dance," I remind him.

"It's barely dancing," he counters.

"Sure, to you." He makes it look so effortless. "And why is this music so vulgar?"

He laughs again, though I don't find any of this amusing. Before I can think of a witty comeback, someone trips and crashes into me, making me stumble into Harry. I start apologizing, but he cuts me off by sliding one of his arms around my waist, pulling me even closer to him. I feel my cheeks flush at how close we are, making me realize how glad I am that it's dark in here.

I want to ask Harry what he's doing, but I'm not sure I want to hear his answer. The air in the room seems to thicken, and I suddenly feel like I can't breathe. I briefly consider pushing myself away from Harry, but if he's not making it awkward then neither will I.

And truthfully, I don't want to pull away from him. I like being here in his arms, and although the thought scares me, I want to enjoy my time with him without having to worry about anything but us.

I finally manage to find a decent rhythm, moving at the same pace as Harry. I have to admit, dancing is much easier now that I'm physically pressed against him, and I seem to be doing something right as Harry's complaints have turned into praise.

"You're doing well," Harry murmurs into my ear. His voice is deep and gruff, and it somehow makes my cheeks flush and even deeper shade of red.

I want to respond to him. I want to say something witty that would both surprise and impress him. But the words seem to be caught in my throat.

A new song starts, and everyone simultaneously cheers.

I'm disappointed to know that my time dancing with Harry may be over soon, and I delay detangling myself from Harry's arms for as long as I can.