by Vera Quinn
“Julian? Could we maybe watch the movie later?” At first, he didn't seem to grasp what she was asking, but after a moment, his expression cleared. He quickly switched off the movie, his gaze finding hers once more, almost like he was reassuring himself that she'd truly asked.
“Are you sure, Marie? I didn't want to push you or rush you. I know you've been through a lot. I was waiting for you.”
Could he be any sweeter? Marie smiled then, shaking her head ruefully. “I love that you're such a gentleman, Julian. I adore that you think of me and put me and my feelings first. But every once in a while? It's okay to pull my hair and tell me to take my ass to your bed. I'm just saying.”
He stared at her then, lip twitching as if he wanted to laugh, before he lifted his arm from her shoulder. His hand made its way into her hair, fingers tightening in the strands just enough to be felt, but not enough to hurt her. Leaning closer, he pressed his lips against her ear, the movement against the sensitive flesh making her shiver.
“Take your ass to my bed, Marie. I'll be right behind you, thoroughly enjoying the view.”
Well. She had no intentions of resisting that request. Sliding from the cushion, she moved toward the stairs, glancing back only once to reassure herself that he really was following. As she carefully made her way up the stairs, she was acutely aware that his gaze was fastened on her ass as she moved, and the thought actually warmed her.
She enjoyed feeling desirable again, feeling womanly. She hadn't felt this way in so long... sexy, beautiful. Powerful. For the first time in a long time, she didn't worry about the slight limp she had when she used stairs. She didn't panic that he could see the differences between her legs from that angle. Marie didn't stress herself out about how she looked, she simply enjoyed the moment. It made everything seem somewhat surreal, if she was honest. It felt good to cast off the worries and fears she'd been surrounded by for so long.
Reaching the door, she paused for a moment before she gripped the doorknob in hand, twisting it decisively. Her mind was made. She wanted this, more than she could really say in a way that made sense. She'd spent so long hiding, burying who she was behind depression and the thought of losing what was important to her, and in the process, she'd lost so much more. She was done hiding in the shadows, feeling like one injury dictated the rest of her life. As Julian said, she made it. She was a survivor. She was still alive. That meant everything.
As she neared the bed, she turned, her gaze meeting his. She knew she looked nervous, but that couldn't be helped. It'd been awhile, so nerves were pretty much expected. He just looked... hungry. The intensity of his expression had her shivering in anticipation and reaching for the buttons on her dress.
Marie froze when Julian's hands covered hers, stopping the motion. Her smile was shy, hesitant, but quickly bloomed on her face as he began to take over the task, bending to brush soft kisses over the bared flesh he exposed with every freed button. Running her fingers through his hair, she found herself relaxing by slow increments, barely resisting when he nudged her, pushing her back until she sprawled across the mattress behind her.
Before she could react, he followed her down, finishing the last few buttons to have the dress fully opened, baring her to his gaze. As he took in the matching black bra and panty set she'd worn, he made a low sound of approval, making her toes curl. She wanted to hear that sound more often. Much more often, if she had a say in it.
Julian took his time, almost excruciatingly, teasing and tormenting her with lips and tongue, hands and fingers. By the time he stood to tear off his own clothes, Marie was panting, her body aching as she reached for him. Wrapping her arms around him as he settled between her thighs, she nibbled a path from his shoulder to his ear, delighting in the way he shivered under her touch. When he rose upward, her breath caught, her fingers digging into his hips. Meeting his eyes, she couldn't help the moan that escaped as they were finally joined.
Their pace was easy and unrushed, a slow build-up for both of them, as if neither was willing to hurry their first experience along too fast. Curling one leg around his waist, Marie arched upward each time he thrust downward, meeting him and ensuring he never truly left her. The feel of him throbbing deep within her, the way she cradled him, his arms stretched out to brace over her head... it all combined to have her panting, her nails digging into his skin as she struggled to make this last just a little bit longer.
She couldn't stop it. As Julian began to pick up his pace, his kisses becoming more insistent, more heated, Marie was lost in the maelstrom. Her toes curled first, the calf of her natural leg tightening in response. Releasing him, she dug her fingers into the sheets, bunching the silk under them, clenching it in her fists. Eyes fluttering closed, she allowed the wicked heat to consume her, her moans and pleas mingling in the air with his as he urged her on, one hand drifting to her hair to pull on the strands just enough to send a tingle of awareness through her.
Marie swore she could feel his heartbeat within her, an answering call to her own as little shocks reverberated through her system, making her shudder in his arms as she surrendered to the bliss she'd missed so very much.
It had been a pretty long time since she'd had to do a walk of shame, but in this, she had no shame about it at all. That morning, Marie had woken naked, curled around Julian, the sun just beginning to filter through the curtains. Glancing toward the clock, she frowned. There was something niggling at the back of her subconscious, something important she'd forgotten she had to do to today. Once it clicked, she gasped, prying herself from Julian as she scrambled to find the undergarments he'd thrown behind him.
Those located, she played tug-of-war with the dress, as he lifted a brow and refused to move off of it. He didn't know her very well. She'd embarrass the hell out of him and walk out of this house half-naked just to teach him a lesson. Of course she'd be embarrassed, but it was the principle of the thing. He'd started laughing at her antics, then he rolled, allowing her to retrieve the dress before he decided he was going to help her with the buttons.
A quick brush through her hair and a wash to remove the makeup that had migrated under her eyes and it was the best she could do under the circumstances. Texting her mom to let her know where to pick her up, Marie bent to put on her shoes, grinning behind the frame of her hair as Julian came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
“Good luck at your appointment, darling. Make sure to call me and let me know what they say, yeah?”
Hurrying to say her goodbyes and steal one last kiss, she rushed to the car, almost tripping before she realized the Velcro tabs for her leg had come loose overnight and she hadn't checked them. Cursing under her breath, she paused at the porch steps to re-secure it safely before continuing. She generally took it off at night, so that wasn't an issue, but she'd neglected to do so after she and Julian had made it to the room.
Ignoring her mom's knowing smile, she sat quietly on the way to the appointment, trying not to let worry consume her. Marie had gone to get new scans taken two weeks before. It was time to hear the results, to make sure the cancer hadn't reared its ugly head again. That was the reality for someone who had survived. You could never let your guard down... your life was interspersed with tests and the constant fear that it would come back, that you'd be stuck fighting again, that you'd lose even more the next time.
The doctors reassured her that as the years went on, the tests would become less frequent, but for now, the worry and fear they caused was too often for her liking. She understood the need for them, she just hated the way it made her feel.
She felt like a lab rat; being poked and prodded to see what made her tick. As if her body was no longer her own, it now belonged to science to do what they wanted with, all because she'd had the unfortunate luck to become a patient. She hated it, but it wasn't like she could just forgo the appointments and tests. She'd be even more worried if she did that.
Sitting in the exam room, she toyed with the edge of the dress hem as s
he waited, her mind a million miles away. When the doctor knocked and entered, she glanced up, giving him a wane smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. As he put the scans up on the lighted board, she froze as she saw a spot just above her knee where he'd circled a shadowy area.
Her heart began pounding faster, her breathing ragged. Marie swore spots appeared before her eyes as it seemed like her worst nightmare was coming true. It'd come back. It'd spread. Either she'd need to resort to chemotherapy or radiation, or she'd have to lose more of her leg. She'd be back where she started, and every triumph she'd had so far would be lost. She wasn't sure she was strong enough, not again.
“Miss Lynne, please don't look so panicked! It's an anomaly, nothing more. It could be an artifact, or arthritis. We won't know fully until we get another scan and take it from a few different angles. With your career, I wouldn't be surprised to see arthritis in the knee joint. Frankly, I'm astounded the bones look as good as they do. Impact and stress injuries are very common, as you already know. This doesn't have the hallmarks of cancer. It's not encapsulated, it doesn't have blood flow. I think an artifact from the machine or arthritis is the most likely explanation. Arthritis, especially caught so soon, is easily treated. It won't affect your dancing or movements much, if at all, currently.”
With the panicked ringing in her ears, it took awhile for her to focus, to really hear what he was saying. Even then, the fear didn't fully subside for a long while after the appointment. She couldn't help the nagging thought of... what if he was wrong? Could she really force herself to go through all of that again? To give up everything she'd finally regained? She didn't have the answers to those questions. She suspected that unless it actually happened, she never would.
After calling Julian and breaking down in tears, she collected herself and had her mom drop her off at the rehearsal studio. She needed to feel normal again for a little while, at least as normal as she could. Changing into her dance clothes and lacing up her slippers felt like coming home, it made everything else seem to fade away.
And then, she danced. She danced until her muscles were screaming at her, until sweat dotted her brow and soaked her leotard. She danced until the worries and fears subsided, until the only thing ringing in her ears was the music and the mental count of the steps she kept in her head. Gripping the barre with one hand, she executed her moves throughout the routine, barely pausing to take a breath as she pushed herself, drowning out the rest of the world. Drowning out the anxiety, the fear, the sinking despair that had filled her.
Marie wasn't paying attention to the time, to the other dancers who filtered in and out over the hours. She barely noticed when people said hello or goodbye, she was too focused on her own routine, on purging the demons that had taken flight today— the ones she'd sworn she'd banished after the first few rounds of tests had come up clear. She'd grown complacent. It had spooked her more than she thought it would, as she hadn't expected anything to show up this late.
Wincing as she stepped wrong and the prosthetic twisted against her skin, she frowned, glancing up at the clock. Midnight? Where the hell had the time gone? Her mom was probably worried sick. She'd left her phone in the locker room. Rubbing a tired hand over her face, she hurried that way, hearing the buzzing as soon as the door opened.
Grabbing the phone, she rushed out an apology to her mom, hurrying to get dressed with it pressed against her ear. Once she'd hung up, she checked the rest. Half of the calls and texts were from her mom, half from Julian. All were worried. She felt bad, but she'd simply lost track of time... today had been a shock, and she'd needed to let off some steam.
La Belle De Ballet Revient was right around the corner. She'd be dancing with Julian, but the show itself was because of her. She was the prima. She was the star. She needed her head in the game and her routine on point, or she'd prove that the rumors were right and she couldn't come back from this.
Marie truly had everything to lose, and everything to gain. She knew it, and that made everything seem so fraught with nerves and expectations. What if she fell? Her face stiffening into a determined expression, she pulled on her shoes as her shoulders straightened. No... what if she flew?
Coda
“I have an idea.”
Julian's brow rose as he followed her to the stage, his expression interested as she began to lay out her plan. In theory, it should work. In reality, it could be a giant mess. Still, if it went as she wanted it to, it could be something new to add to their resumes, and a boon to the theatre as it would be a routine they hadn't done before.
“Are you sure about this, Marie? What's your plan for getting off the stage after? For moving around once you're back on your feet?” He didn't look as confident as she felt, which she figured would happen. Truthfully, she wasn't sure how to handle getting off the stage, either. Yet. Surely together they could come up with a plan.
Hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, you don't expect me to figure out everything, do you? I came up with the idea for the routine, so... so you're my partner. Help me figure out the rest.”
His lip twitched for a moment before he laughed, scooping her up into a hug. “You are impossible, mi belle. Okay, let's see what we can do. If there's a will, there's a way, and I'll be damned if you don't have the biggest will out of everyone I know. Does the theatre know what you're planning, or is this going to be a surprise?”
She grinned. “Well, it can't be a total surprise, as they'll have to get the stagehands to bring in the equipment and make some adjustments. But they trust us enough that I'm hoping they won't ask too many questions. Just think, though, if it works, this is a way for us to be able to do some of our old routines, for me to fully dance again.”
Her face was beaming, the excitement at the thought shining through. It must have been contagious, because Julian threw himself into full-on idea mode, helping her to figure out the adjustments needed on her foot and how they could hide the movements, where extra rigging could go, and what they'd need to request of the theatre.
She threw herself into preparations, rehearsing with Julian for long hours into the night. They practiced until the subtle sleight of hand was barely noticeable to the dancers they'd roped in as guinea pig 'audience' testers. They practiced until the motions they made were smooth, the upward lift a glide that appeared as natural as their normal dancing.
Marie was nervous, of course. This could make or break her career, once again. She could prove that she could return to the stage, could still perform as she used to, or she could go down in flames, taking Julian with her. The thought was terrifying. She had no doubt they could do this if everything went right. Still, during a live performance, you really couldn't bet on everything going perfectly. There was always a wrench thrown into the works somewhere. The best dancers simply adapted, changed things up to accommodate the wrench. Their routine couldn't be changed, not really.
Once Julian lifted her into the air and deftly twisted the bolt in her foot unnoticed by the audience, their path was set. If anything happened, she literally wouldn't be able to walk off stage while things were sorted. She'd have to be carried off, once again, while memories of the last time would likely be on everyone's minds. It was risky, she knew that. She had faith in both of them. She just needed to have faith in the crew, too.
The night before the show, Marie found it nearly impossible to sleep. She'd been up and down so much, she'd just left her prosthesis on. It was too much of a hassle taking it off and putting it back on each time she got up. She'd paced the floor, then made herself some hot tea. She watched some videos on YouTube of her dancing that theatre fans had uploaded. When she saw clips from Sleeping Beauty, she hurriedly scrolled past those. She didn't want to see the moment she'd fallen and realized everything in her life had changed.
When none of that soothed her, she'd gone outside, sitting on the curb with her tea mug in hand, simply watching the stars as they twinkled high above her. She enjoyed the quieter rush of the city as night o
wls emerged for work, shopping, and their own daily chores on the opposite end of the time schedule than the rest of the world. It was far more peaceful at night, fewer people, fewer cars. It did little to settle her nerves, however.
Making her way into the house, she headed to the bathroom medicine cabinet. Shaking two pills into her palm, she sighed. She hated taking them, they were prescribed when she'd first come home and couldn't sleep well. Still, she needed rest before tomorrow night, and it appeared her mind wasn't going to let her get any on its own— sleeping pills to the rescue.
The next morning dawned too bright, and too damn early. Blinking from the sunshine filtering through her blinds, she groaned, covering her eyes with her hand as she squinted at the clock. It was just barely six. The sleeping pills had gotten her a few hours of rest, but not nearly enough. Making a face, she shoved the covers aside. She might as well get up and get prepared for the night ahead. She certainly wasn't going to get back to sleep now that she was up and worrying.
Heading into the studio, she grinned as she spotted Julian already there, warming up at the barre. Giving him a quick kiss, she ducked into the locker room to change before returning, joining him for the basic exercises they did before starting any routine. Stretching and getting into the groove was important for any dancer, but even moreso for ballet. It helped prevent injuries and strain, neither of which she could afford.
Once they'd gone through their paces in the rehearsal space, they packed up, heading to the theatre. They'd taken enough time that the crew should have opened it and started their work on setting the stage and getting things prepared. It would allow them to double-check their routine on the actual stage, making sure their steps corresponded to the actual space they'd have available to them. Unfortunately, the hardest part would only have one dress rehearsal.
