Sans Dancing Novels & Stories

As if there were nobody around them, they forgot the whole world's existence when they were dancing. Her focus was on him, examining him carefully. His eyes, his smile, his handsome face, she was examining them carefully. She unconsciously started liking it and so did he. Sanaya did not even know how to dance, she thought how could she manage not to fall. She was about to look down to her heels she was wearing when he said,"Don't look." She nodded again.

I didn't expect him to say that at all. "How?" My voice suddenly became small. Valentin smiled deviously and I knew immediately that I had entered a tiny pickle. "You will dance for me, my personal dancer." He said, his deep voice lingering with amusement and and bit of anticipation. "Your mate and your dancer?" I asked and scoffed shaking my head in disbelief. "It's like dancing for the devil." "Whatever you say noisemaker," Valentin chuckled deeply. His chuckle made my heart skip several beats and I almost winced in pain.

she held my hand and lead me to the bar counter. "Two mojito for us, Jerry. Thanks!" she said and the bartender attentively did our order. "You know what? I feel so disappointed today but after knowing you, I feel like I'm back to life again," she giggled. I genuinely smile. I never had someone this close to me except for Jana. I lost count how many time we go back and forth from the bar counter and sandbar area. We are dancing with the sweet music when a guy suddenly dance behind Wynther. He doesn't look creepy at all. He smiled and held Wynther by the waist and whispered something on her ear which makes her stop dancing and face the man.

His left hand holds her right hand and raises it at shoulder level. After they positioned themselves, they start dancing slowly, moving back and forth one step at a time. Everybody is dancing lively to a disco beat while Ella and Edward continue to dance in a slow dance as if they have a world of their own. They don't care about the people surrounding them. They are only focused on each other dancing in the rhythm of their heartbeat. They are moving in the flow of the ocean, swaying their hips as their hands lustfully wander on each other's bodies.

It kinda looks romantic as the song played was Perfect by Ed Sheeran I glance at my smartwatch, it's 11:00 pm. Where's Caleb? I'm sleepy already. What took him so long to come back? I drank all the remaining beer in a can and stood up. Byron stood up too with his palm placed in the air in front of me. "Wanna dance?" he asks. My eyes widen and look at the dance floor, so many people, it would be embarrassing to dance at the center with this kind of music, so embarrassing.

He asked me. “I don’t normally dance and it felt weird,” I said, turned to him and took a small breath trying to find words to describe it. “It’s embarrassing. All I’ve ever danced to were slow songs.” “I’m sorry, but they won’t be putting on many slow-songs here and I can’t really stop them if they try to take you to the dance floor again,” Lucas tells me, moving to sit beside me.

She slipped the card into her pocket and backed off the dance floor with trembling steps, feeling every stare licking at her like heat. Her shift resumed around her, but she moved as if underwater, carrying trays, smiling mechanically, replaying his voice again and again. Come alone. Ten. Valcourt Foundation. That night, she lay in her small, dim apartment staring at the ceiling, unable to blink away the heaviness in her chest. Adrian Valcourt. The man who danced with no one. The heir who avoided gossip. The billionaire who vanished from events early. And tonight he had chosen her. Not just to dance.

"I’m Victoria Dean. I apologize for meeting you all under these circumstances. “But as a dancer, I want to show you that the most powerful performances don’t need elaborate embellishments. This dance has a real name. It’s called, the Unyielding Rose in the Rain.” I slipped off my coat, revealing a tattered red gown beneath it, and the white bandage wrapped around my ankle. "A rose blooming in the rain, who could ever bend its beauty?" Rising onto the tips of my toes, I leaped into the rain, the night sky embracing me like a vast, open stage.

"I'm so excited. My brother told me you're the best in Abuja. He said you used to dance in Lagos. He said you were famous. I've been so worried about the first dance—I don't want to step on my husband's feet. I'm a terrible dancer, really. Everyone says so. I have two left feet. I'm completely hopeless." Zara blinked. She had not expected this. This girl was nothing like Dante. She was sunshine and light and complete, joyful chaos. "I'm sure you're not hopeless," Zara said carefully. "Everyone has rhythm. It's just a matter of finding it." "See?" Amara turned to Dante, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching them. "I told you she'd be nice. Most people are so mean about my dancing."

But I refuse to let their preconceptions define my journey. “You dance, and we’ll dance,” says Theo, not sounding entirely convinced. He does something on his phone, and the music begins. It’s a pulsating bass that reverberates through the room. Mark, Danny, and Theo begin to dance with an effortless grace, their bodies interpreting the rhythm with precision and power. Each step, and each gesture, is a testament to their years of dedication and experience. They seem to belong to this world, like a well-worn groove in a vinyl record.