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If it weren’t for the music, I swear my laughter would be, at the very least, at obnoxiously loud levels.
Dancing. We were dancing.
And at senior prom nonetheless.
…er- A senior prom. I never went to mine, so he just randomly decided to take me to one. And here we were, dancing - Him? Dancing? Oh my God. Again I burst into laughter. (I’m pretty sure he has no idea why I’m actually laughing, but, since I’m enjoying myself, he doesn’t seem to care.)
It was the worst, really. Of all senior proms he chose the one with an 80s theme. It was so ridiculous.
But it was still fun nonetheless. They played plenty of old popular hits from the 80s as well as some modern pop that easily passed as 80s-esque music. (Which was also very catchy by the way.)
But you should have seen he how he looked. A dark green silk suit, a black dress shirt underneath. Black raven hair in a pompadour style. I honestly couldn’t believe it myself. (Cue more laughter, only because I really can’t help myself at this point. Honestly. What in the world is going on?)
They dance and dance and laugh the night away.
It’s not until a week later it hits me.
It was our 6 month anniversary.
It won’t be until another three days till I subtly suggest us going to a 50s theme dance. I’ll get him as a greaser one of these days. I swear it.