Flamenco dancing. He might not look like the type of guy to do it, but it was his true passion. He worked to dance. Whenever he had downtime, he was in the local dance studio, moving to the beat. It was his own thing that he kept close to his heart and away from his teammates.

You always caught his eye. The way you practically glowed every time he saw you dancing. It drew him in in a way that he couldn’t explain.

One day he finally worked up the courage to talk to you. He walked up to you on the dance floor, holding his hand out with a soft smile, waiting for you to take it. “Care to dance?”