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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1775050-What-Do-I-Say
Rated: E · Other · Family · #1775050
Jake decides to fix Pigeon's dancing.
Her Mary-Janed feet shuffled awkwardly on the wooden floor, where Jake had removed the table, and set soft classical music playing from the stereo. The tall, slender man who stood with his arms crossed off to the side, shook his head.



“No, no, Pigeon. This simply will not do. Twirl, child. Twirl.”



Pigeon frowned at him, lifting her leg in time with the music and attempting halfheartedly to pirouette with her hands over her head. She overbalanced, and went crashing to the floor, with a strangled yelp. Jake padded quietly over to her, his lips pursed, he silently lent his hand to her, and pulled her up. A tiny exasperated noise escaped his lips, as he brushed dust off her white Lolita dress, straightening the bow that had come partially undone in the fall.



“Pigeon, I’m beginning to think that teaching you to dance is a waste of my time.”



That being said, he picked her up, and set her in the middle of the floor again. Pigeon looked at the ground dejectedly, tears springing to her eyes, when she thought that she was failing Jake, her one, only, secret love. She bit her lip, forcing a small smile as she looked up, meeting Jake’s cold, blue eyes.



“Maybe if you helped me?”



Jake thought about it, stroking his goatee, as he often did when deep in thought. After a while of him making soft humming noises, and Pigeon wringing her hands anxiously, Jake nodded.



“Yes, that may help. But if we are to dance together, it will be ballroom Masquerade, and to my music. Okay?”



Pigeon nodded eagerly.



“Alright then. Go get one of those ballroom dresses on that I bought for you, sharp now. And don’t come down unless you have a mask. Go. Now.”



Pigeon bowed to him, and ran off, to go put on one of her dresses. Jake followed upstairs, to go change into a tuxedo, and to find a mask.



He cut a dashing figure in his coat-tailed tuxedo, top hat, and bone white mask. Jake waited patiently for Pigeon to come down, it was probably taking a while to both get into a dress, and find one of the masks that Jake had given her for when they went out into some public places. And so it went for about fifteen minutes, Jake finally getting so bored that he began to leaf through his CD collection, trying to find the right music for the dance. He was so preoccupied, he didn’t hear Pigeon sneak up behind him, and tap him on the shoulder.



Jake spun around quickly, knife in his gloved hand. The sight that greeted him was enough to make his mouth dry, and the knife fall forgotten from his hands. There stood Pigeon, clad in a black and grey dress that resembled lace and spiderwebs. She had donned fingerless gloves, covered in the same cobwebby, lacy material, draped elegantly over her long fingers. The mask she wore was more of a top hat like his, with a white eye mask , and a thick veil attached. Jake swallowed thickly.



“How do I look, Jake?”



Pigeon toyed with the lace by her fingers nervously. Jake blushed, and was grateful that he had the mask to hide behind. His fingers quickly snatched up the first available Cd, and he turned away, putting it into the stereo. The first song, Rasputina’s Transylvanian Concubine turned on, and Jake put a shaky arm around Pigeon’s waist, guiding her to the middle of the floor.



“My dear, you look beautiful.”



He said uncharacteristically, as the first eerie strains of music reached his ears.



“Now, on to business. First, put your hands on my shoulders. I’ll put my hands around your waist. Don’t squirm.”



They both felt a thrill run through their bodies, as Jake’s hands wrapped around her waist. Though they couldn’t see for the masks, they were both blushing madly. Jake licked his lips, and began to sway slightly.



“Put your whole body into it, move with the music, kind of in a circle.”



He coached softly, starting the waltz. Pigeon tried to copy Jake’s exact moves, praying that she wouldn’t step of his feet. She didn’t, and got into the rhythm of the dance fairly well. Jake began to teach her more intricate dance steps, swaying, getting more and more into the creepy music, moving one of his arms to wrap around her waist, and whispering: “You do this too.”



Pigeon shuddered, as, for the first time, she hooked an arm about Jake’s waist, and for the first time, realized how skinny he truly was. Jake felt electricity course through his body, as he took Pigeon’s other hand, and laced his fingers with hers. Though they could only see eyes through the mask, they were both gazing unknowingly at each other.



One step. Two step.



They danced and danced, Pigeon clinging tightly to Jake’s waist like her life depended on it, Jake holding her close, their stomachs touching. As the fourth song ended, Jake felt something come over him. He broke to hold to take off his mask. Then pushing the veil off Pigeon’s face, he whispered breathily.



“And, if the dance is danced correctly…this happens.”



Pigeon stared up at him in wonderment, as he half dropped her, swinging her so her hands were about his neck, and she was being held up only by Jake’s one arm, still encircling her. Their eyes met, something sparked, and Jake’s cool, sensuous lips met hers for the first time. Pigeon’s eyes fluttered closed, red blush shading her dark cheeks, as Jake smiled into the kiss, bringing one of his hands to bury itself into her hair.



All too soon, they pulled away, panting for breath. Jake set her upright on the ground, and straightened his glasses, which were tilted slightly. Pigeon just looked up at him, her mouth slightly open. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.



“And that’s how you ballroom dance.”



He stated flatly, disappearing to the basement, no doubt to poke Stephan with the cattle prod angstily, and reflect on what had just happened, leaving Pigeon to lick her lips and stare at the space where he had been.









© Copyright 2011 Jake Broadbent (jakeysocio at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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