Come dance with me

Her: Get up. Come with me.

Me: Why do I feel like I’m being kidnapped.

Her: Because you are. Now shut up and follow me.

(She takes my hand and pulls me up the stairs.)

Me: Why are we climbing?

Her: Because the rooftop isn’t walking to us.

Me: The rooftop? In the rain?

Her: Yes. Exactly that. You’re going to dance with me.

Me: You want to dance in a downpour?

Her: I want to dance with you. The rain is extra.

(She pulls me out the door.)

Me: Darling we’re going to get soaked.

Her: Then hold me tight so I don’t drown.

Me: (laughing) That’s not how drowning works.

Her: It is in romance.

(The night air is warm and wet.)

Me: It smells like summer out here. Like you.

Her: Oh? And how does summer smell like me?

Me: Like comfort. Like warmth. Like…home.

Her: …And I thought you weren’t the romantic type.

Me: For you, I can be anything.

(She takes my hands and places them at her waist.)

Me: You know I can’t dance.

Her: I do.

Me: I’m going to mess it up.

Her: Good.

Me: Why?

Her: Because perfect is boring. I want you. Just..be here with me.

Me: Even if I trip and bring us both down?

(She leans, forehead pressed against mine.)

Her: Just hold me tight. I’ll handle the rest.

(The rain curtains around us as she sways.)

Me: What’s the song.

Her: It’s in my head. Follow my lead.

(We sway slowly, clothes already soaked,)

Me: You’re using dancing as a cover.

Her: I knew I married a genius.

(We gently stop swaying, bodies molding together. My arms tighten around her, her fingers grabbing my shirt.)

Me: The song in your head…Is it over?

Her: It changed. Now it’s just the sound of you breathing.

(We’re wrapped so close the rain can’t find a path between us.)