Your warm breath tangles in my hair, and I close my eyes, adjusting to the rhythm of the dance and dissolving in your arms. You hold tight: with one hand at the waist, and with the other squeezing my palm, intertwining our fingers and occasionally kissing my wrist. Pleasant unobtrusive music, filled with the voice of the cello and piano overflows, sounds somewhat surreal in this concrete box, and I try not to think about how it looks from the outside - me and you, dancing in the middle of the room under the brilliant gaze of the Carol doll, who kept us company on this evening. She doesn't say...