Barrow
S tar hesitates, her eyes darting toward the dance floor, but when she finally slips her hand into mine, a rush of warmth floods my chest. Doubly so when she grins — she actually grins — for the first time all night.
I barely feel my feet touching the floor, I’m so elated. I made her smile like that — and I intend to do it again.
As we step onto the floor, I feel the tension in her body, so I keep my touch light, letting her set the pace.
“You’re doing great,” I murmur as we sway to the music.
She looks up at me, her blue eyes teasing. “You’re just saying that because I haven’t stepped on your toes yet.”
I chuckle. “Maybe. But even if you did, I wouldn’t mind.”
Her pink lips curve into a soft smile that I can’t tear my gaze from. “I believe you,” she whispers, almost too quietly to hear over the music. In her words I hear a trembling hope that feels so new, so fragile, it almost breaks my heart with its courage.
We’re both quiet, the music winding around us as I try to match my breathing to hers. In this moment, there’s no one else here but the two of us, and for the first time tonight, I feel like I can finally let go.