“SLOW DANCE is a partner dance, usually reserved for couples or those seeking a closer connection. It exudes sweetness and romance, yet at times, it can also lead to moments of delightful awkwardness.”

***

Jimhuesh decided to take a chance and invite Senthie to dance, and to his relief, she agreed. As they made their way to the dance floor, he held her hand with a gentle touch, treating it as if it were the most fragile thing in the world.

Jimhuesh, who usually cherished his personal space and disliked crowds, was making an exception to create a connection with Senthie. He carefully positioned her hand on his shoulder and placed a hand on her waist. Just as he was about to reach for her other hand, she shook her head and offered an awkward smile.

“I’d prefer to place my other hand on your shoulder too,” she explained with a hint of shyness. “My hands are a bit sweaty, and I’m not quite comfortable holding hands.” She slowly moved her hand to rest on his shoulder, seeking a compromise that suited them both.

He responded with a tight-lipped smile. “If you don’t mind . . .” He glanced at his raised hand, and when she nodded in agreement, he gently placed his hand on her waist, creating an unusual distance between them. They swayed side by side, their awkwardness palpable, avoiding each other’s gazes and appearing as stiff as tree trunks.

A heavy silence hung between them. While Jimhuesh often appreciated the quietness of others, this silence was anything but comfortable. He assumed Senthie felt the same, given by her occasional glances in his direction as if waiting for him to break the silence.

He cleared his throat. “Would you mind if I ask you something?”

Senthie’s eyes brightened slightly, and she nodded. “Sure, but not that kind of question . . . if you know what I mean.”

“No, it’s nothing like that, I assure you,” he said, determined not to repeat the mistake of prying into her personal life. He understood that, in her shoes, he wouldn’t appreciate such intrusiveness either.

“Okay. You can ask me, then. . . . But before that, would you mind coming closer?” She let out an awkward laugh. “My arms are cramping and--”

Her words were interrupted as Jimhuesh gently pulled her closer. Their bodies were almost touching, and the music was building up to the chorus, creating an intimate atmosphere.

“Is this okay?” he inquired, noticing the height difference between them; her head barely reached his shoulder. It dawned on him that her arms must have started to feel numb. He hadn’t sensed the weight of her hands on his shoulders earlier, perhaps she had been holding him as lightly as he had held her waist.

At that moment, they appeared to be a couple, swaying to the rhythm of the music.

“You’re awfully close, but I can tolerate it.” Senthie offered an awkward smile. She turned her head to the side, avoiding direct eye contact.

Jimhuesh’s brows furrowed. “A-awful? Tolerable?”

“I mean, it’s fine,” she quickly clarified, biting her lower lip. She glanced at him, but when she noticed him gazing down at her, she looked away once more. “So, what did you want to ask?”

“Is it difficult for you to look at my face?”

“Huh?” she responded with a confused expression, looking up at him. “Do you want to have a staring contest, then? Is that what you wanted to ask me?”

“No, I thought you despised me. You won’t even look at me when you’re talking to me.”

“It’s because you’re too handsome, I can’t handle it,” she mumbled, but Jimhuesh caught it. Her words were intended to be heard.

His brows furrowed. “You think I’m too handsome?”

Senthie nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid that if I look at you for more than ten seconds, I’ll just end up staring at you until the music ends. You might recall that staring is one of my habits.”

He chuckled. “No problem. I wouldn’t mind that, anyway.”

She smirked mischievously. “Are you sure? Then don’t blame me if you get uncomfortable.”

Jimhuesh nodded and mentally prepared himself for the impending eye contact. As he gazed into her big almond eyes and studied her face, he was captivated by every detail. Her small, round face, her cute, chubby cheeks that he had resisted the urge to pinch, her delicate eyebrows that lent her an air of innocence. Her perfect nose, her flawless skin, and her moist pink lips . . . the notion of kissing her briefly crossed his mind. He almost cringed, but was fortunately halted by Senthie’s question. “Did you already forget what you wanted to ask me?”

He turned his head to the side, attempting to conceal any signs of embarrassment that might have turned his cheeks a shade redder. After clearing his throat, he redirected his gaze toward her. “Uh, yeah, about that . . . are you friends with Kassandra?”

She nonchalantly shrugged, her lips pressing together thoughtfully. “Yes, we’re friends.”

Jimhuesh’s curiosity resurfaced, and he narrowed his eyes. “How? I mean . . . if you don’t mind me asking, how did you two become friends?”

She smirked. “Perhaps, you’ll learn about that later.”

 ~

Rychie attempted to discreetly slip away from the other guests, making his way toward the restroom after successfully convincing Senthie to meet Jimhuesh on the balcony. However, no matter what he did, fate had other plans. A persistent woman followed him, repeatedly calling his name. He was on the cusp of reaching his intended hiding place when the woman’s calls refused to cease.

Fortunately, there was no one in the corridor when he finally turned around to confront her, fully prepared to decline whatever request she had. But fate had a twist in store for him. The woman stumbled, her palms landing on the floor, nearly kissing it. Guilt welled up within Rychie, prompting him to rush to her aid.

“This is so embarrassing!” the woman groaned.

That was when he recognized her voice, a flicker of familiarity in it. Is she one of my customers? he recalled. Is she friends with Ms. Senthie? However, he couldn’t quite place her face; either he was not great at remembering people’s appearances, or she looked remarkably different, like an entirely different person. She had transformed from an average-looking girl into a stunning, striking lady.

As they reentered the party, the song A Thousand Years had already reached its chorus. Rychie provided support to Cecilia, her hand delicately linked to his arm as they proceeded at her comfortable pace. She hurt her knees during her earlier fall. He courteously pulled out a chair for her, and she gratefully accepted.

“Are you all right, Ms. Cecilia?” he inquired, seating himself across from her. He had confirmed her identity during their return to the party. She had explained that her pursuit was to express gratitude for his apology to Senthie, relating to something he had said during their high school days.

Cecilia went on to disclose that it had been nothing more than a dare for Senthie to confess her feelings to her crush, and it had ended in disappointment. Rychie’s words had dealt a severe blow to Senthie’s self-esteem: “I’m sorry, I don’t like you. And I will never like you.”

Rychie couldn’t deny that he had been quite insensitive at that time. Fed up with all the attention, and perhaps even confessions, he had deliberately aimed to make a bad impression to deter anyone from approaching him. His actions had been intentional, and now he was grappling with the guilt of it all.

“Hey, Rychie, are you okay?” Cecilia’s voice brought him back from his reverie.

He blinked and replied, “Uh, sure, I am. Sorry, did you say something before that?”

“I said . . .” Her gaze shifted to the dance floor, and she pursed her lips. “Look at those two, appearing so intimately romantic.”

Rychie followed her gaze and spotted Jimhuesh and Senthie engaged in a dance. Cecilia’s description was spot on; they did indeed look like that. He almost couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. They gazed at each other as if they were the only people in the world, as if they owned the night. Their eyes remained locked, and the way Jimhuesh held Senthie was . . . exceptionally awkward.

Rychie chuckled at the sight. He had almost forgotten that his best friend had an aversion to public displays of affection, though he was certain it wasn’t affection Jimhuesh was feeling. He simply disliked physical contact with the opposite sex, with Kassandra being an exception since Jimhuesh viewed her merely as a friend or a sister, not a woman. Yet there he was, enduring the touch with Senthie.

“Why are you suddenly laughing?” Cecilia asked.

“If Jim heard you say that . . .” Rychie shook his head, attempting to contain his laughter. “. . . he’d be absolutely furious.”

Cecilia appeared puzzled. “Why is that?”

“Because he doesn’t like being touched by women.”

 ~

“Why do you keep looking at them?” Kassandra inquired, her question tinged with both curiosity and a hint of longing, as if she were desperate for his response, or perhaps just his attention.

Kenzo offered a faint smile and casually shrugged, not sparing her even a passing glance.

Kassandra’s most recent dance partner, the 22nd lucky man to join her on the dance floor, happened to be Kenzo. He held the unique distinction of being the only one to dance with her for a second time, making him the envy of many at the party.

Yet, despite this enviable position, his attention seemed to be split. Half of it was directed at Senthie and Jimhuesh, while the other half was devoted to Kassandra, who stood before him. Her arms were draped around his neck, his hands securely placed on her petite waist. Their bodies and faces were unusually close compared to the other dance couples, given that Kassandra was almost the same height as Kenzo. She wasn’t even wearing high heels, and yet her height exceeded his eye level by a touch. He was only two inches taller than her.

“Are you worried about her?” Kassandra asked, her tone nearly tinged with annoyance, although she managed to keep it hidden.

He shifted his gaze to her, and for a moment, their noses almost touched. He flinched slightly and turned his head a bit to the side. “A little.”

She felt somewhat offended by his reaction. “Kenzo,” she called to him, speaking softly. “Keep your eyes on me.”

He complied, meeting her gaze, and a faint blush colored his cheek. Their faces were mere inches apart. He must be finding me seductive, Kassandra thought. She smirked. “That’s more like it. Don’t worry about Sen; Jim is not a bad guy. I can vouch for him.”

“Are you two friends?” he inquired.

She shrugged. “Well . . . yes. Actually, he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“Really? So that explains the good chemistry. You were comfortable around each other.”

She giggled. “Yes, we were. And we are, even though we’ve only just reconnected today after two years.”

“That’s great. Your relationship with him wasn’t ruined when you broke up,” Kenzo remarked with a smile, although there was a touch of sadness in it that left Kassandra wondering about his thoughts. She had been on the verge of asking about his past relationship when Kenzo beat her to it.

“Have you moved on?” he inquired. “I mean . . . was it hard for you to move on after the breakup?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. There was no need to. We were never in love with each other to begin with.”

Kenzo was rendered momentarily speechless. She chuckled, breaking the silence. “That guy doesn’t believe in love. And as for me, he’s just not my type, though he’s undeniably attractive. I’m more into someone pretty and cute.”

His eyes widened. “You mean . . . you like girls?”

She burst into laughter, tilting her head back in amusement. “Of course, I like girls, but not as much as I like cute, pretty men. What I was trying to say is that I like men like you.”

Kenzo finally joined in her laughter, though it might have been tinged with embarrassment. His hand momentarily left her waist, placing it on the back of his neck - a habit Kassandra had noticed when he was feeling shy - but Kenzo’s hand found hers instead. He flinched slightly upon realizing the contact and offered an apologetic smile before returning his hand to her waist. She laughed again, finding him incredibly endearing.

“You’re adorable; I want to take you home,” she teased.

Kenzo flushed once more. “Stop saying things like that as if it’s normal. Do I look like a teddy bear to you?” He chuckled.

She smiled and shook her head. “No, you’re not. But you definitely look like my future boyfriend.”