My hips don't lie.
WHO: Emiliana and Alfred
WHEN: December 17th, Friday evening.
WHERE: Some empty dance studio on campus.
WHAT: Dance lessons. Or, in Alfred's case, flailing that could be translated as dancing. Somewhere.
Emi really couldn't stop asking herself why and how she had agreed to this as she hurriedly made her way towards the empty dance studio. She was hurrying, Emi decided, because she wanted to get out of this godforsaken cold soon and because she wanted to get this equally-as-godforsaken dance lessons with that güerito done with as fast as possible.
Stuffing her hands deeper into her coat pockets (after making sure her scarf wasn't slipping off again), Emi pushed the door to the dance studio open. Hand groping along the wall, she flicked the light on, eyes blinking rapidly against the sudden brightness before she looked around.
This would do.
Ridding herself of her coat and scarf, Emi dropped them unceremoniously into a far corner after her setting her small duffel bag down.
Right, music. She should get that ready too. Though, perhaps she should wait for Alfred before picking the song and genre.
...some warming up would be good, then. It had been a while since she had done this, after all.
WHEN: December 17th, Friday evening.
WHERE: Some empty dance studio on campus.
WHAT: Dance lessons. Or, in Alfred's case, flailing that could be translated as dancing. Somewhere.
Emi really couldn't stop asking herself why and how she had agreed to this as she hurriedly made her way towards the empty dance studio. She was hurrying, Emi decided, because she wanted to get out of this godforsaken cold soon and because she wanted to get this equally-as-godforsaken dance lessons with that güerito done with as fast as possible.
Stuffing her hands deeper into her coat pockets (after making sure her scarf wasn't slipping off again), Emi pushed the door to the dance studio open. Hand groping along the wall, she flicked the light on, eyes blinking rapidly against the sudden brightness before she looked around.
This would do.
Ridding herself of her coat and scarf, Emi dropped them unceremoniously into a far corner after her setting her small duffel bag down.
Right, music. She should get that ready too. Though, perhaps she should wait for Alfred before picking the song and genre.
...some warming up would be good, then. It had been a while since she had done this, after all.