After a couple of tracks had played and I was deeply entranced in the groove, I felt someone brush against my back. I moved a couple of inches forward and delved back into the dance. Once again, I felt someone brush against my back but it felt more deliberate this time. Slightly annoyed, I stepped forward again and spun around and, for a timeless moment, all that existed was her: bouncing blond curls, bright bluish gray smiling eyes, an endearingly pretty face that looked up at me expectantly. I was dumbstruck, rooted in that spot, speechless, heart aching. I can only imagine what impression I was making as I stood there motionless. She was still dancing. It was only when she turned around to face her friends that I was able to tear myself away and spin back around.
As the music kept fueling the groove and I managed to regain my composure, I dove right back into it with fierce intensity. I was now grooving for her. I had to show her how much I loved it all and how good I was at it. I needed to impress her with my amazing moves, then she would surely like me. She could not help but realise that she had to like me and that she should be dancing with me. For the entire time she was near me, my thoughts and my senses were full of her. I would spin around and catch a glimpse of her. I would smile and try to catch her eye. When a there was an amazing buildup in the music that suddenly exploded into enveloping sound, the crowd would erupt again in joyful stomping and jumping and I looked to her and tried to live the moment with her and only her.
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