(no subject)
This is barely worthy of the usual stuff about being made up, product of my imagination etc! But it is! Pairing, well some of you will know and those that don't, it can be anyone you like!
This one goes out to my knight in shining armour who saved my sanity on Friday night - thank you so much, love!
***
The nightclub is full of hot sweaty dancers. The heat is incredible;
the scent of many different perfumes, aftershaves and body odours fills
the air. The bass reverberates through my feet, up through my body
until it feels like my heart is beating to it. The floor is crowded.
It is Saturday night. Everyone is out for a good time and appear to be
getting it.
I stand leaning against a handy piece of wall, bottle of beer in one
hand, cigarette in the other. The smoke lazily wends its way to join
the haze of it covering the dance floor, like a great big benevolent
cloud.
And then I see him. He is dressed in black; jeans, t-shirt, those
tatty sneakers, leather cuff on his right wrist and silver baby tiger
charm around his neck.
He is dancing, lost in the music, his body moving sinuously. Eyes
are half closed, totally unaware of the predatory glances he is
getting. He is at one with the music; he looks like he is enjoying
it, just letting his body move gracefully to the beat, doing this for
himself. But I know he’s putting on a show. The question is, who
for? I see a small smile cross his lips and he slowly lifts his head
and looks ... at me.
This one goes out to my knight in shining armour who saved my sanity on Friday night - thank you so much, love!
***
The nightclub is full of hot sweaty dancers. The heat is incredible;
the scent of many different perfumes, aftershaves and body odours fills
the air. The bass reverberates through my feet, up through my body
until it feels like my heart is beating to it. The floor is crowded.
It is Saturday night. Everyone is out for a good time and appear to be
getting it.
I stand leaning against a handy piece of wall, bottle of beer in one
hand, cigarette in the other. The smoke lazily wends its way to join
the haze of it covering the dance floor, like a great big benevolent
cloud.
And then I see him. He is dressed in black; jeans, t-shirt, those
tatty sneakers, leather cuff on his right wrist and silver baby tiger
charm around his neck.
He is dancing, lost in the music, his body moving sinuously. Eyes
are half closed, totally unaware of the predatory glances he is
getting. He is at one with the music; he looks like he is enjoying
it, just letting his body move gracefully to the beat, doing this for
himself. But I know he’s putting on a show. The question is, who
for? I see a small smile cross his lips and he slowly lifts his head
and looks ... at me.