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Our First Dance

Soon after we finished our dinner, Clayton asked me to dance with him. He said it’s too bad to waste my dressing up tonight if he didn’t ask for one. He brought our wine bottle and glasses, leading me to his studio upstairs. He docked his phone on the sound system and the soft, jazzy instrumental music plays.

Clayton took my hand, held me, and led me to dance around the room. The romantic sound of the saxophone leads us into an intimate slow dance.

“What is the title of this song? I never heard it before but yet it sounds so embracingly familiar”, I whisper softly into his ear.

“It’s called ‘Our First Dance’, just like what we’re doing right now”.

I smiled at him and leaned my head to his chest for a while. The song is so comforting and nice to dance into, even for a poor ballroom dancer like me.

After slow dancing to a few songs, Clayton said he wanted to get something in his car. A few minutes later, he was back with a huge wicker basket ful

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