It was the second glass that did it. Maybe the third, Mimi wasn't sure but she was aware that Jim and his new girlfriend Caroline had left early because they were worried about the babysitter and Sven was looking particularly pretty. She knew that for the first time in months the night was theirs, like old times and everything seemed vibrant and new again like it would last forever and they would never have to turn back to the hard concrete of their banal, real lives. Amid that, there was a feint twinge of regret in her chest because she knew they would. People and things always did; have fun, watch it fade, get bored and angry with one another, then spend years earning money for things they didn't need to keep up with neighbours they didn't like. Even her. The week she'd spent away from home for work had etched itself into her chest with unpleasant results.
"You going to finish this with me, then?" Mimi gestured towards the half empty wine bottle, topped up Sven's glass.
"Might as well." He leant back in his chair. "Caroline seems nice."
"Nice?" Mimi gave him a sideways look, slid into the seat next to him that Jim had vacated. "She was nice to Jim, that's for sure. Did you see her? All over him."
Sven nodded. "Maybe a little much in public. I like your hair like this." He pulled a strand loose from the knot that sat behind Mimi's right ear, artfully deconstructed.
"Thank you." Mimi said, rested her head on his shoulder. "Phew. I needed this. I feel I've spent the past ten days doing nothing but sitting on trains."
"Because you have, Mimi. I've been eating microwave meals."
"Oh, so you can't cook now?" Mimi asked. "Wifey not at home to feed you?"
"That is not what I meant." He said, looking down at her. "It's depressing making one-man dinners. Horrible when there's no one there to share things with. I kept going to say things like, 'oh, today so and so happened' and you weren't there. I didn't want to keep texting you."
"I know, I was kidding." Mimi sipped her wine. "I ate out all week on expenses. It was delicious."
"Alright for some." Sven gave her a flat, mocking look. "When I went away to university my mom sent me this book called Microwave Meals For One and it was the saddest thing I've ever seen. So sad."
Mimi laughed. "Did you use it while I was in London?"
Sven shook his head. "Nope. I was thinking that maybe we should get a dog. I miss you when you go away."
Mimi smiled, settled her hand into his. "It's not for long. Once every few months, that's all. Anyway," her tone sank lower, her breath was close enough to curl upward against the smooth curve of his ear. "I already have a dog."
Sven chuckled. "Oh. I forgot about that."
"No, you didn't but I'm home now. I'm going to the bathroom then we should probably.-" She turned, breaking off mid sentence, the possibility leaping in her chest like flames. "Do you want to go dancing?"
Sven laughed. "Now? Like going out out."
"Why not?" Mimi said. "It's the weekend and we haven't just had fun in so long. We never do anything spontaneous anymore."
Sven looked out at the city lights, the bright, blurring traffic, an old kind of heat rising in his chest then back to Mimi. "Hey," he said. "If you want to go and drink and dance like a couple of idiots then I'm in."
Mimi clapped, turned on her heel. "Good. I'll be five minutes."
Eventually, they ended up in an expensive nightclub with predictably elaborate drinks.
"Can't I just get a beer? Or whiskey?" Sven shouted above the music, mimed drinking to the bartender and was, in turn, met with a look of genuine confusion as though something so simple was alien in a place that served ten different kinds of Martini. But, soon enough, they pushed through the throbbing crowd and found a table, drinks in hand.
"Are you grumpy now?" Mimi teased, eyeing her fiance's bobbing knee, the thin line of his mouth. "Baby?" she pouted at him, her hand settled against his jaw.
"No." He said, forcing a smile. "I'm fine. What is that?" he pointed to her drink.
Mimi plucked the menu off the centre of the table and read aloud. "Peachtini with rosemary syrup and smoked sea salt rim, apparently. It's delicious. Try some."
She pushed the glass over to him and he sipped. "Pretty herbal, though."
Mimi smiled, saw Sven roll his shoulders, shift in his seat. "Don't worry." She said. "I know you don't want to dance. I won't make you."
"I never said-" he tailed off, stopped talking when Mimi burst into bright laughter.
"I'm sorry." She sighed, "The moment I suggested it back in the restaurant you looked terrified." She squeezed his thigh. "I know you're more of a pub kind of guy, warm beer a few rounds of pool, that kind of thing."
"Well, you know, I'm not the best at dancing. Drinking I can do, but that..."
"And yet," she shouted above the music, leaning in close to him. "you still said yes." She smiled, pecked him on the cheek.
"Of course I did. I know you love it."
Mimi kissed him, longer this time, ignoring the crowds of people completely. "Well, if you won't, then I will."
"Please, go ahead." He nodded towards the dance floor, watched her bound towards the heaving crowd.
Even if Sven wouldn't, Mimi always did – lived for it, in fact. There was little else that helped her simply forget like dancing. Mimi reasoned that people were too busy dancing or drinking or working up the nerve to chat each other up to really give a damn about what she or Sven or anybody else was doing on the dance floor. Comparatively, Sven felt that there was nothing more socially awkward than a group of people jammed together in the dark shaking about like they were suffering from severe epilepsy. Why a man couldn't have a pint in the pub with music played at a civilised level was beyond him. Mimi stayed on the floor for the better part of an hour while Sven nursed her handbag and ordered another whiskey and watched her dance. Though he didn't go in for it himself, he was always struck by just how carefree Mimi looked when she did so. Eventually, she skipped back to their corner table, a grin on her face.
"For someone musical, I find it so weird that you don't dance. No one cares, you shouldn't be embarrassed."
"Hah." He stared at the melting ice in his glass. "I don't think so; it's so embarrassing, you know I hate it. It's not that simple."
"Grumpy." Mimi kissed his face, dug her teeth into his cheek at the last minute.
"Ow." He laughed, rubbed the spot where she had nibbled him, his body tingling like that exact spot on his face and his dick were connected.
"You want to go home?" Mimi asked. "You're sweating like a whore in church."
"Go and have fun. It's fine." He brushed her arm, nodded back to the dance floor. "Go and dance."
"Come on." Mimi smiled, "Everyone knows men hate dancing but sometimes you just have to jump that fence to get the girl."
"Are you bribing me?"
"Trying to." Mimi shouted, disappearing into the crowd.
Sven drained his beer, followed after her.
"Well." Mimi said. She walked a few steps ahead of him on the street, watching him amble after her. "That was a valiant and utterly uncoordinated attempt. Well done."
"Thanks. Get the keys." He gestured towards the jacket that was draped across Mimi's shoulders. "Left pocket."
She pulled his jacket off, handed it back to him, watched as he opened the door.
"That was fun." Mimi called the lift. "Did you have fun?"
"Yep." Sven said. "I think Caroline is coming to work for our agency, you know that?"
