Celia

I shut the bedroom door behind me, stomach nauseous and spine tense. I don't want to dance!

His smirk plays in my head and I glare at nothing, hungry for victory. I will win.

Opening his closet, I take out my white dress and put it on. It's knee length and flows over me, cinched at the waist and held by thin straps. Ideal for moving easily and cute.

I rush to the bathroom, hands cold and mouth dry. I should put on some makeup for confidence. Just five minutes. I take five minutes for light foundation and mascara. Okay, red lipstick too. It won't hurt.

Okay, red lipstick is a mess. I wipe the edges with a q-tip. Now I look like the Joker. It's okay, I don't think he'll notice. Heels? Barefoot.

I poke my head out the hallway, noticing he's sitting on the edge of the couch. Forearms resting on his knees, hands folded together.

"I'm ready..." I mumble.

His eyes fall to my feet and linger over my bare legs that try not to clench, my thighs where heat spreads between them and finally my face where I bite the inside of my cheek.

His lips curve at the corners. "What's this?"

"Nothing," I shrug.

He chuckles and I take his hand, pulling him to the middle of the living room.

"Let's get this over with," I roll my eyes and position myself an arm's length away. "Show me what you got."

"Teach me the steps, first." He puts his hands in the pockets of his black sweat, towering over me. I should've worn heels. No. Ari's asleep.

"What else do you want, a free win?" I scoff.

He folds his arms above his waist, getting in a Bachata position. "I'll do it better once I learn, that's how it works."

"On what, planet delusion? You lose!"

"How?" His brows furrow. "If you teach me and I do it better, doesn't that make you even a bigger loser?"

"You're something else, you know that?"

"I know," he smirks, then beckons to the couch where my phone is. "Go, put on some music."

My arms feel like jello as I reach for my phone and scroll through Spotify. I select a sultry Latin playlist and raise the volume enough to not disturb Ari.

"We have an audience," Gio points behind me and I turn to see Luna standing by the hall, staring with suspicious calmness. Gio holds his chest. "She came to see how awesome I am."

"More like she came to pick up whatever will be left of your ego when it crumbles on the floor," I mutter and reach my hands to take his.

He keeps the weight of his arms up, hovering his hands over mine as I pretend to be the guy.

"Okay, most of the time you keep a light hold on the girl..." I step to my right and tap my toe on the floor, lifting my hip. "But always be present so you can be firm when necessary."

"When necessary?" Gio asks, following my moves. His movements seem small, I guess it's because he's matching my steps.

"Yeah, for example..." I lift our hands above my head and twirl. "You would initiate that with a flick of your wrist."

"Gotcha..." he nods, but I doubt he got it. He seems too at ease to pay attention.

"You can also..." I lower our hands and turn my my back to him, twisting my wrist behind me. "Do a hammer lock..."

When I face him again, he puts his hand on my hip and pulls me closer. I draw in a sharp breath from the warmth radiating from his chest.

"If you want to..." I gulp, looking down at our legs, "you can lock your thigh between mine and control my movements with your hips."

Like a chicken, I don't show him how to do that and continue to awkwardly move our legs against each other. Gio chuckles which makes me look up. His eyes hold mine with unbothered attention, making me more flustered.

The slow rhythm spills into the silence and the dark night outlines his rugged, tall form. I style my hand on top of his shoulder, sliding away from him. He stretches out his arm as I hold his hand, our eyes connected the entire time.

I flit my gaze down and twirl, wrapping myself around his arm until my back is flush against him. Gio halts his movements and I lean back on his chest, thankful for the moment of clarity.

Swaying in a figure-eight motion, I take his hands and put them around my waist, then slowly lower them to my hips. His tan, long fingers spread around me like traps. I dance against him, smirking when he grips me harder.

"You're not bad..." I cheekily say, closing my eyes. "In fifty years you might even be okay."

Gio takes my hand and turns me in a circle. Then does a half one, making me face him. I smile at his initiation and his cheeks indent with dimples.

"Good job!" I chuckle, staring at his feet that move with the rhythm.

He twirls me again, four or five times in a row, making me laugh and the room spin in circles.

My laugh morphs into a gasp when he stops me mid-twirl and catches my waist, pressing me back into his chest. The front of his sweats push against me, making me chuckle nervously.

He caresses his palm up my spine and holds my hip with the other, moving me in a slow, figure-eight motion with a relaxed, focused control.

Goosebumps spread over my arms as his fingers graze the back of my neck and thread through my hair. My eyes close as he lifts my head and pushes his forearm on my back, making me bend.

The back of my legs stretch and an unexpected tension coils between them. When I try to escape, Gio fists my hair. I freeze, pathetically attempt to look at him over my shoulder but to no avail.

He lowers his other hand over my skirt and my thighs clench in response. I try to look down, but he yanks me against him, pushing his forearm against my breasts to stop me from squirming.

My breaths get heavier, louder. My chest rises and falls and he knows. He's watching behind me and not saying a word while his other hand slowly snakes under my skirt.

I bite my lip to not make a sound, my eyebrows bunch with despair. He places a soft kiss on my temple, making my muscles loosen a little.

"Good girl," he murmurs, squeezing my inner thigh. His fingers press against the side of my panties. I'm burning. Air ripples out of me in shallow waves, I close my eyes to not whimper as he wraps his other hand around my neck.

"Look at me." He brushes his thumb across my cheek. I try to break down what he's thinking, why he's so calm and amused. I'm scared. Excited. Lost over what I'm supposed to do.

Gio seems to pick up on my turmoil because he turns me to gently cup my face and presses his lips on my forehead, holding me like that.

He still moves his hips but I can't. I wrap my arms around his waist and lean my cheek against his chest. Without a word, he grabs my ass and picks me up, wrapping my legs around him.

He smiles at me, as if to say 'everything's okay' and moves us side to side, tapping his toes just how I taught him. I laugh about how silly we must look, but somehow it seems to be working.

He chuckles, gaze relaxed and content. Mine taken aback but giddy. I shake my head and hug him tighter, hiding my face in his neck. I try to push the fear away. I try to stay in the moment.

I focus on the pulse on the side of his neck. On how hot his skin is. How earthy and fresh and masculine his scent is. I pull back to look at him, grazing my cheek against his stubble. Luna meows by Gio's feet and we both drop our gazes.

"Someone's jealous," I smirk, dropping my legs from Gio's waist.

"She's being possessive," Gio says and briefly pets Luna's head. "Are you? Are you jealous?"

I move to the couch to turn the music off.

"Are you going to bed?" Gio asks.

He stands in the middle of the living room, shoulders squared, legs in a slightly wide stance.

"Uh..." I flit my eyes to his face. "Shouldn't I?"

He sits on the couch and leans back, looking at the TV screen with a small smirk. "Up to you."

What does that mean?!

I put my hand on my hip and the other between my lips, narrowing my eyes at him. "U-huh."

He rolls his eyes. "Suit yourself."

"U-huh..." I chuckle, now both hands on my hips.

"Are you leaving?" He asks when I turn around.

"No, I'll be back."

Okay, we obviously won. I tell myself after I lock myself in the bathroom. What he did was not dancing. It doesn't count. He cheated.

I look at myself in the mirror, freaking out over how I'm freaking out. Eyes wide. Cheeks flushed. Hair a frizzy mess, but that's another story.

I wipe my red lipstick off with toilet paper and take a deep breath. Am I really going to go there tonight? Are we going to...?

No, we'll probably just mess around a little. Yeah, we won't go too far. Still, I need to be ready.

My fingers are cold as I roll the straps off my shoulders and drop the dress by my legs. I deadpan at my nude, strapless bra.

Getting dressed again, I tip-toe to my bedroom and open the drawer, picking out a pale pink, lace bra to match with the panties.

Are my legs even shaved?! I sneak back inside the bathroom and prop my foot on the sink, searching for any missed spots. Seems alright. No, there's a hair on my big toe. Oh my God.

I pluck that disgrace then scan my body for other ways it can humiliate me. I end up plucking other places until I'm in pain, hating myself. Calm down! He has no room to complain!

I frown in the mirror for being so nervous. I'm safe. I'm not in danger. I want to be in the moment. Gio's hands and lips play like flashbacks on my skin and I relax, realizing he can keep me calm if I'm honest about it.

With that final mindset, I go back to the living room and get another cardiac arrest when he stands shirtless with his hands in his pockets.

"I'm going to use the bathroom too," he says and walks past me, closing the bathroom door.

I shake my head at Luna who's next to his gray sweater. I'm cold and shaking, which makes me more tense. So I take off my dress and put on his sweater. It's seductive, right? It should be.

Now I'm in the middle of the room, biting my nails. Luna yawns. My mind floods with a thousand thoughts as I try to calm down.

"Celia—" Gio comes out of the hallway and freezes, raking his eyes over me. "Fuck..."

I sit on the couch, chewing my finger, blinking at him. His eyes are darker when they lift to mine. Like I'm a a prey he's starving to sink his teeth in.

"Arthur's here..." he swallows, clenching his jaw.

"What?" The tension halts to a jarring pause.

He sighs, grabbing his shirt to put it back on. "I'm sorry... he came over without calling."

"Can't you send him away?!" I whisper-yell.

"That's a little too obvious," he smirks at my desperate reaction. "Don't you think?"

I bite my tongue and get up. "Bye, I'll be in my room."

"Should I join later?" He asks huskily behind me.

"No!" I roll my eyes, hearing him chuckle.

~ A/N ~
Progress? Lol don't kill me. Celia needs Gio in small doses first...

This chapter is dedicated to @haylee_stewart_ who is always yelling in the comments hehe thank you so much for your enthusiasm!