Finding Us
I want to persist, but he adds, “come on, feel free.”
Without asking, he takes my cup and set it on the table before coming to take my hand and subtly spin me around. I giggle as we move from side to side, and he smiles at me, spins me again before bringing my back close to him as he sways, forcing me to move along.
“Caleb.” My protest falls on deaf ears as he pulls me closer, and I begin to struggle to get out of his grasp. “Caleb, stop.”
I don't know what's wrong; is the music too loud for him to hear me or has he gone mad? My pleas meet deaf ears and his grip only tightens as I repeatedly tell him to let go.
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