Dance with emotions

        Blake’s Pov

      “Can I get you something to drink, Sir?” the bar lady asked, while my eyes followed Emily’s every move. Her beautiful blond hair hanging perfectly down her back, her bright blue eyes that can make any man go numb by just looking at her. Her body is slim and perfect. 

      “No thank you,” I responded while she threw herself at me. 

      I try to figure out why a nurse wants to learn how to defend herself? I know it’s not just because of what happened in the Alley the other night, something happened to her that made her angry, and she’s been holding on to that anger and pain for a long time. I’ve seen kids being abused that came to me for support and the same anger and pain they showed is multiplied on Emily’s face. 

      I know how to teach you to defend yourself, but with her it’s different. She’s soft. I need a better strategy to help her than to get the anger out of her. 

      She needs to learn how to feel safe first. 

      Emily orders another drink and downs it in seconds. If someone does not stop her right now, she might pass out on the bar table. I kept my eyes on her till a few men approached her and I could see she felt uncomfortable. She doesn’t know how to recognize compliments or a man showing his interest in her. 

      Her entire body language is telling me to get her the fuck away from the man. 

      I stood up and grabbed her by the arm. 

  

      “What are you doing?” she asked but looked relieved when I grabbed her. 

  

      “Dance with me.” 

      I took her arm and placed it around my neck and my hand on her back. 

      “Lift your arm, the other one,” I instructed her. She looks confused and uncomfortable. I grabbed her to stand closer. 

      “Be confident, even if you don’t feel like that now, never show your opponent that you are scared or uncomfortable.” she stares at me and relaxes her shoulders. 

      “Now move away from me a little,” I instructed. My eyes are still on hers. I can see she feels confused, not knowing what the hell I’m doing right now.

      “Always keep a safe distance.” I still hook her arm around my neck, and my hand on her back, but there is a distance between us, while we glide over the dance floor.

      I suddenly picked her up and her eyes went wide. I just told her to keep a safe distance, and I took her by surprise to lift her. 

      “Did it surprise you?” I asked, pulling her a little closer. 

      “Yes,” she responded, her face glowing with the lights and her blue eyes bright with the lights. 

      “Always use the element of surprise.” I can see she’s picking up with what I’m trying to do. Use dance moves instead of actual violence to help her. 

      “Dancing you can use to develop the emotional maturity for training and open the door to being safe, caring and letting go of fear,” I whispered close to her ear. 

      I spun her a few times and picked up my hand and looked like I was about to hit her in the face, but she bent down and looked surprised by her own movement. I smiled and pulled her in again. 

      “Dance works with full momentum, you go with what you feel.” she’s mesmerising herself in my dance training, and her smile is as beautiful as her confidence right now.

      “We are rhythmical elements. The songs we know by heart are a source of independence. They are also tools of betrayal and fantasy, hooks and ladders for traps and escape.” She doesn’t say a word. She kept her eyes on my lips and focused on my breathing. 

      I stepped closer to her, and she moved backwards, knowing exactly what I was about to do. 

      “The simple footwork of dance can be used to create a storm of a powerful slap and off-balancing strike.” I pulled her close to me again. I think teaching her is more of a turn on for me than it’s actually helping her to defend herself. 

      “The easiest way to overcome the fear of slapping someone in the face is to practice it while dancing. Simple but delightful exercise can release fear and gain confidence with every movement.” 

      “You felt uncomfortable in the beginning, right?” I asked, while her eyes were still focused on my breathing. 

      “Yes,” she responded in a soft voice. 

      “How about now?” 

      “I feel more in control.” She smiled while her blue eyes burned through my core. 

      “Good.” I smiled back. 

      “Never panic. Panic puts you at a disadvantage. The more confident you are, the more control you have.” I grab both of her arms and put them around my neck, her body moving perfectly with mine. Our minds melted as one, and our eyes burned into each other. 

  

  

  “Basically, it’s the body parts that can’t be strengthened, no matter how ripped your attacker is, they’re still vulnerable in a lot of ways, find the way that will through them off-guard and give you a way to fight back and escape.” I explain and spin her a few times, where she lands perfectly in my arms again.

      “I found your body part that will always work. You know how to find your way back to your first position. Even though I spin you, you landed back in my arms. Find the defence mode that will give you the upper hand to find your way back to where you started.” The entire dance she was listening to every word, and her body relaxed as she felt in control. Even though I was the one that was leading the dance, she knew exactly what to do. The music stopped, and I pulled her closer, her face inches away from mine. 

      “Get some rest. I will see you tomorrow.” She’s dead quiet like she was in a trance of basic dance training, and it made me want her, but I promised myself a long time ago that I would never fall in love with a woman again that I’m training. 

      I turned around and walked to the front door to go home. 

      I can fucking kick myself for letting myself so close to her. The only thing that’s spinning right now is her blue eyes that are like a ghost, looking me straight in the eyes and there is no escaping from such beautiful eyes. 

      I just have to follow my own advice. Always be in control of your outcome. 

      The driver dropped me off at my apartment and the only thing that would keep my mind in control right now was a workout. 

      I took off my shirt and the mirror in the training room was reflecting Emily’s arms around me. Her soft hands were wrapped around my neck and the way she moved like we were meant to dance together, even though I was teaching her defence moves through dancing. 

      “Fuck,” I yelled and grabbed my hair. This was not supposed to happen. I was not supposed to get emotionally involved. 

      I turned the music up and kicked the kickboxing bag as hard as I could, my veins visible from all the sweat and anger. 

      I just have to find a way to train her without getting involved. I promised her, and I don’t want her to get hurt ever again. The pain I saw on her face when that man attacked her, and the way she begged me to help her. I never want to see that again.