tango

i am a shape-shifter.

change of color has always induced change of persona in me. i used to think i was a chameleon, but really, it's much simpler than that—certain shades change me. i'll be nicer to you in blue, but orange renders me tactless. black, and i melt into a sleek, elegant person. white, and i slip into the little girl i have not been for so long.

tonight, i'm wearing red.

the dress begins with thin straps and a low v-neck, and ends at mid-thigh. it goes well with lots of dark eye color, painful shoes, and hair piled high. though i am not sexy, or hot, or anything remotely like that, this dress makes me feel like i could be. this dress is possibility on a hanger. it is not something to wear while feeling self-conscious.

if the propositions tonight mean anything, the effort was worth it. but i'm not satisfied. i don't care what anyone else thinks, especially not anyone from this dim, hazy place. there's no one special here.

it's nine o'clock. the music is hot and fast and furious and makes me want to move. i tap my glass impatiently. what am i doing just sitting here?

but when you slide in like a panther, hunting, prowling, i know what i've been waiting for. i breathe in and gulp the air nervously—all my senses are on edge. those dark, heavy eyes are all that i'm seeing now.

at first only my eyes follow you through the crowd. i'm a little wary. fire may be pretty, but it burns. but then your quicksilver gaze flashes at mine and suddenly it's become such a complicated process to just inhale.

and in a moment, you stand, amused, in front of me. i think you must know my thoughts—that right now, all i want is to feel your skin against mine.

'dance with me?'

your voice is exactly what i thought it would be—low and rough, but elegant, like melting dark chocolate, all at the same time. and once again i am pulled in by your gaze. there is something of a challenge in those intense eyes of yours. but i've come this far—i'm not backing down now. i stare right back at you.

you relax subtly and i feel like i've passed a test. then you take my hand and pull me forward, til we are as close as possible without touching. less than an inch separates us, and to me this seems so wrong.

'i promise i don't bite,' you murmur into my ear, and the heat from your breath spreads through my entire body. i can tell by the arrogant smirk in your voice that you have not been refused in a very long while.

and oh, yes, you are one of those mysterious ones, aren't you. my mother always warned me about those men. so self-satisfied, so sure of themselves. ladies' men, she said. player, i think. and looking at you, i can tell that you are no exception. but in red i have a habit of tossing away common sense. red is possibility, remember, and i feel like exploring this one tonight.

so we dance.

the music is just fast enough and just dirty enough to make me let go. it's so much easier to enjoy yourself when you are free of inhibitions. and there is nothing like this boy, this man, that will do that for you.

the night wears on, and we dance until dawn. there is nothing separating us now. and there is no one else in the world to think of.

and in the morning, it's a little bit strange, because i am in pale yellow and things are looking bright. and when you pass me by in white, you nod and smile normally—but for a second, there is something in your smoky eyes that caresses mine and makes my insides shiver delightfully.

our eyes meet again, and i smile—because you are wearing a red tie, and because i am not the only one who knows what red and possibility mean.

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10.21.05.