The music pounded in your practice room, the sounds resonating from each of the four walls. You moved to the music, letting the changing notes dictate your motion.

Your boyfriend wandered down the halls of your company’s building, trying to find where your manager had directed him to. He heard music playing and crept quietly to the dance studio door. Peering in, a smile graced his lips as he watched you dance.

He stood casually near the door, watching your movement in detail. Your shoes squeaked softly on the shiny wood floor, leaving little scuffs when you your toes. With your eyes focused on your movements in the mirror, you didn’t notice as he moved further into the room and rested his head against the door frame.

The sounds of your breathing were faint against the rhythmic beats, and he smiled at your determination. Your dancing was sharp and precise; a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead and a light pink flush of energy colored your cheeks.

His eyes scanned you slowly, almost dazed by your motion. He longed to walk forward, to adjust the side of your shirt that had fallen off your shoulder. The hair in your face was calling him to brush it away, and music thumping in his chest made it tempting to run alongside you and join in your dance.

When the music ended you stood still, chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths. He followed behind you, clapping loudly in the small room. You turned to him, a wide smile growing slowly on your lips.

“I’d give you a hug, but I’m disgusting right now.” He laughed, patting at the color on your cheeks.

“That’s alright,” he said, pulling you close to his chest. You grinned, shifting under his grasp, moving to turn off the stereo as the song changed. He grabbed your hand. “Wait, I know this song.” You turned to him with bright eyes, beginning to move together as soon as the chorus started.