Slow Steps

It had been a lengthy walk amidst the meadows. The afternoon sun had slowly disappeared behind the valley, taking its warmth with it and causing the two to retreat, shivering, to a safe haven. 

Within the lodge, the fire blazed, casting a flickering warmth upon the cool interior. The man's gaze lingered on the dancing shadows beneath their feet, synchronized with the crackling sound of the burning wood. When he looked up, he noticed her shivering in stillness. Turning his attention back to the dancing figures, he then glanced at her, extending his hand to invite her to join the shadows. 

For a moment, she hesitated, her gaze shifting between his outstretched hand and the anticipation of a smile. Setting aside her doubts, she took his arm, their figures intertwining. "I can't dance," she admitted, glancing downward in embarrassment. "Follow my lead," he reassured her, though uncertain about what he was getting himself into. 

As she leaned closer, mirroring his steps, he felt a resistance building around his chest. Instinctively, he leaned away to maintain a sense of composure. He recognized his vulnerability in the midst of it all. A surge of past betrayals and heartbreaks resurfaced from buried memories. In the process of unraveling the recollection of pain, he stumbled over her feet during the slow dance and focused on the act again. In response, she released a soft laugh and playfully teased him.

 He knew he was in trouble when she looked at him with the warm firelight reflecting her starry eyes. Meeting her gaze, the walls of cool apprehension he had constructed crumbled. "It's okay," he whispered to himself, surrendering to whatever was to come. With each step, the dance became more fluid, swaying harmoniously