It Doesn't Matter
My heart swelled with content as I thought back to earlier tonight. We were alone in the kitchen, and he was tickling me while I giggled and protested insincerely. In a burst of inspiration, I grabbed his hands, pulled them over my head, and twisted swiftly into his arms. He smiled down at me, and I softly danced back into my original position. His granite eyes sparkled, the magma under the surface finally melting through. I twirled around, his hands in mine, and for a moment, we were floating through the twilight. We were just two kids without a care in the world.
Then his father’s footsteps intruded into our perfect world, and he dropped my hands. But whether he meant to or not, he had shown me his love, and it lingered in my heart like the memory of a sunny beach during a thunderstorm.
He traced my collarbone tenderly with his fingertips and murmured in my ear, “What are you thinking?”
I leaned into his warm caress, and answered quietly, “I’m thinking about dancing with you today.”
His eyes were beautiful even when they hardened. “I danced for about thirty seconds, there was no music, and nobody saw it. It doesn’t count.”
I pressed my lips firmly to his cheek before speaking. “That’s where you’re wrong, my love. Your voice was my music. Your eyes were my song. Every second was a minute in heaven, and I don’t need an audience to make our dance count.”
His eyes melted again, and he pulled himself off the couch, lifting me up with him. We were dancing, and my world was complete once again.
I liked how you definitely created a place where I could easily slip into what was going on, and imagine the setting well. Although, in my opinion of course, you need to work on your dialogue. 
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