Gabriel and MC - Salsa Dancing

There was a subtlety to music within the Night Market. Somewhere, it was always playing. A distant band plucking out their tune, always three or four alleys over. Not even I understood how it came to be. There were worlds out there that had the background noise of high-pitched whirring. A buzz of electricity. The murmur of whispering souls. But here, there was music. Singing so frequently that when it stopped, an eerie feeling wove its way through the streets. That, I was used to. It was a baseline expectation and an understanding between me and the forces of the market.

Walking into a place that actually played music, loud and free? That was an entirely different experience.

Gabriel’s hand was laced in mine as we entered the ballroom. I had not let him go, afraid that he would find an excuse to patrol in order to avoid the night. When we had first signed up for ballroom dancing, he had not been opposed. He was a man well versed in the classics, with a waltz being his favorite. I, on the other hand, had something different in mind.

The room glowed, the floor stretching out before us in slabs of old wood you would find in a dance hall of old. Amber and rose colored light hung from the ceiling, casting the ground in different stretches of color that feet danced in and out of. I watched as skirts swished around fast moving hips, bare legs flashing with each quick move.

“My hips are not going to move like that,” Gabriel told me with absolute certainty

I turned to look up at him, laughing at the horrified look on his face. “You aren’t the one that’s going to have to move your hips like that. You are the support class in this.”

He gestured to a man who was giving a very definitive twist to his hips, right before he slung a woman up over his shoulder, bending her nearly in two. “That is simply not true.”

“He’s not moving his hips. He’s just turning a lot. You can turn.” Gabriel looked at me dubiously. I had no issues being flung around by him but I had a suspicion he had a problem with flinging me around in this room, skin slick with sweat, the heady chords of something sultry lurking in every corner. “Think of it as a battle,” I tried.

“I will not be stabbing you.”

“Well, okay. Don’t think of it as that kind of battle. A prelude to a battle? Don’t they sometimes call that a dance?”

“Only naive romantics who think there is some sort of beauty in death, despite them never having taken a life of their own.” A few people were passing us, eyeing us out of the corner of their eye.

“Okay, maybe battle is not the correct word to use.” 

A swish of skirt drifted past us and I started to sway a bit to the music. There was something so catchy about it all. Something that I felt swimming through my bones. A man approached us, holding his hand out to me. I glanced up at Gabriel, a bewildered expression written in his eyes. But I desperately wanted to dance. 

I took the man's hand, letting him lead me out onto the dance floor. I had very little experience with dancing, salsa or ballroom. Not in this life at least. But I felt the way the music flowed through me. The man put his hand on my hip, leading me through a series of movements that had me spinning and twisting around. I felt laughter bubble up from my throat, my cheeks growing pink as the man handled my body, flipping and spinning me in time to the beat. It was the feeling of flying. Of freedom. My heart lept within my chest and cheers went up around us. I had no idea if they were for me or for someone else, but the elation was there all the same.

And then it stopped.

Gabriel tapped the nameless man on the shoulder, causing us to still. “Move,” he told the man.

For his part, the stranger did not look offended. Sweat stuck to his forehead, but he only bowed, backing away. Gabriel took the opportunity to grab my hand within his, placing the other on my hip. I looked up at him, cheeks flushed, sweet trickling down my neck and causing my dark curls to stick to my cheeks.

“I thought you didn’t know how to move your hips?” I teased.

“I learned.”

Before I could say anything he had me in a deep spin, dancing around me in such a way that I was certain wasn’t the correct moves, but it felt right. Everything with Gabriel always did. I shook my hips, letting my skirt whip back and forth in show. We weren’t doing it correct by any means. I was a giggling mess and Gabriel had that stern look on his face that said he was concentrating. Perhaps even trying to learn the moves. The music swelled louder and louder, the room became hot with a muggy sort of heat, and all around us, couples moved to the beat, losing themselves in a world of heated passion that bled from the main stage band.

Gabriel lifted me, my legs locking around his own before I slid down his body. I glanced up at him, seeing that familiar heat in his eyes. His pupils were blown, sweat was dripping from his temples, and I didn’t think I had ever seen him look more unkempt than this moment alone. 

I craved the sight of it.

“What do you think?” I whispered to him. The music had stopped, the band changing. People began milling around, talking, drinking water. They gave Gabriel and I a wide berth.

He pulled me up, so I was pressed flush against his chest. “I concede,” he told me, brushing the sweaty curls from my face. The pin I usually wore to keep it from my eyes was halfway down my head. “I may see the merit in this type of dance.”

I laughed breathless. “Do you want to keep going?”

He glanced around the room at the different couples. The forms they took. The steps they practiced. He nodded once. “Yes. We are abysmal at this. We will need to practice more.”

“I thought we were pretty good,” I told him.

“We were simply jerking our bodies around the dance floor. It was not the correct form. Where is the band. We need to try again.”

I made a monster out of Gabriel that night. I gave him something new to conquer. At the end of the night, my body hurt, I could barely stand from my evening of stomping my feet. Gabriel carried my heels in one hand as we walked home, happy and content. Later that night, I would awake to find Gabriel practicing once more. 

I’d watch him until my eyes grew too heavy to stare.