Dear Merc,
I have finally stopped failing at life and finished your (pathetically) belated birthday fic. Not my best, but I hope you like? Either way, here's to hoping this at least bring a smile since one of this fandoms' most amazings writers is one year older, perhaps wiser, and always cooler. It's rather unrealistic, but I wanted to keep it happy cause it's your birthday and you derseve a silly little happy story of a boy and girl who finally get it right. So here you go, read on my dear.
Cheers,
~Rory
xoxo
{round & round we go now}
...dance like you've never done anything else...
Massie Block is a girl who dances in and out of boys' hearts. She waves her arms above head and graceful lets her skirt swirl around her slender legs, moving so agile like a whisper of a summer breeze.
She does it so easily too, almost without trying. All it takes is curving her lips into a playful grin. An earful of her bubbling giggle, much like the one of a four-year-old. The sight of the way she closes her eyes, charcoal black eyelashes tickling her check bones causing dancing shadows against porcelain white, when she's simply soaking in the sunshine.
Massie doesn't mean to. Okay, maybe she does. But she means no harm exactly. She just can't help it. All those boys, they watch her with warm admiring eyes, and it makes her feel like melting butter, like a floating cloud, like magic.
So she gives them what they want. She laughs to their jokes; she smiles at their eager faces; she takes their twitching hands and brings them to waltz with her. They crave her attention the way she craves theirs.
The only difference is they're all so sure they're falling in love, and she's knows she'll never get that feeling, that breathless emotion again. Not since he ran away. That brilliant boy from down the street, the one she fell completely in love with, who fled after the night that put him over the edge. Black and blue, he raced down the pavement, leaving a screaming drunk father behind. She was forced to watch from her window, tears falling down her smooth cheeks. She was only nine at the time, but love is love, there's no question about it.
So now, she'll dance.dance.dance. On stage for applause. In private for relief. In and out of hearts to ease pain. It's what she's best at.
With her witty charm and playful personality, she's so good at making people feel good. So what if maybe she hurts a few, and breaks a couple hearts, they're feeling good at the moment, and that's all she can really give away anyway. She got them all wrapped around her finger; it just takes a look and they fall to her feet.
Massie twirls and spins in her dance, losing her mind and trying to shake out painful thoughts and memories. The control she holds in her delicate hands doesn't make her feel powerful, and the happiness it brings is short and fleeting. Maybe that's why she needs to do it so much, so often.
Everyone thinks she's a good person, she thinks she's as bad as you can get. But she can't help herself. Maybe she's neither. Maybe she's just a human. A dancer.
...run like you're being chased by yourself...
Danny Robbins is a boy who runs into and then out of girls' lives without a word.
In and out, zigzagging back and forth, his legs swiftly cutting through the air. His ratty sneakers smacking down on pavement, moving almost angrily as if he could run out run the rain cloud that seems to follow him.
He does it so easily too, almost without any regret at all. All it takes is curving his lips into a haunting smirk. An earful of his warm chuckle, that makes you feel like you're floating simply for causing it. The sight of the way he closes his eyes, raven hair flopping into his eye lashes, as he leans with head back, nodding to some song only he hears. But then, once you're hooked he's gone.gone.gone.
Danny doesn't mean to. Okay, maybe he does. But he means no harm exactly. He just can't help it. All those girls, they watch him with adoring awed eyes, and it makes him feel like melting arctic ice, like a looming hurricane, like hell.
He can't stand it. So he does what he can. He stays to the side trying to not gather too much attention, sits by himself when he can, avoids their seeking eyes and hopeful smiles. They crave his attention and he knows, but he has no use for theirs'.
They all want to be the one to make him laugh, get him to flash a quick smile, to look them in the eye and make them melt. But he refuses, trying to act indifference so they'll lose interest. But it all peaks their curiously and increases their battle for a heart he doesn't posses.
One of these girls though, eventually if he stays will slowly thaw him and he cant risk weakness. They're all hoping to find the him under all the bullshit exterior, they're all so sure they're falling in love, and he's knows that's stuff like that isn't meant for him. There was a time when he kinda.sorta.maybe thought he had it, but that was so, so, so many years ago. And he hasn't believed in it ever again, not since he ran away.
The sparkling girl from up the street, the one he couldn't help but stare after, and want to fall into. But he had been to busy at ten, running from bat-shit insane abusive father to his aunt's house, to really ever do more then wonder. There's no question about it though, he's never found another girl as alluring, even after all this time.
So now, he'll run.run.run till he can't run no more. On a track to feel free. In his head for escape. In and out of hearts to try to deal. It's what he's best at.
With his sharp charm and enigma personality, he's so good at making people desire him. So what if maybe he hurts a few, and breaks a couple of hearts, they're practically begging for it, and it's all he can do not to sprint at the first look. A moment of attention, that's all he can really risk anyway. He's got them all wrapped around his finger, and it only takes a smile and they plunge into a pit.
Danny tears through and sprints quickly in his run, trying to out race his deepest fears and worst regrets. He's trying to out run his past. The control he holds in his scarred, callous hands doesn't make him feel powerful; it scares the crap out of him and makes him want to flee. Maybe that's why he's always trying to get out.
Everyone thinks he's a good person, he thinks he's as bad as you can get, and doesn't deserve a thing. But he can't help himself. Maybe he's neither. Maybe he's just a human. A runner.
-stop before you miss out on what you're passing by too quickly-
It's three o'clock in the morning. The sky is dark painted with light. Everything is in moving stillness with loud silence when a thwack-thwack-thwack-ing sound is heard as sneakers smack against the pavement of the street beneath the stars.
She's in bed staring at the ceiling, counting shadows, when she hears the echoing beat.
He's flipping raven hair out of his cerulean eyes praying.hoping.begging she's still here.
She's shoving her covers aside racing to the window, something tugging in her gut. It just has to be the one thing she never dared to really wish for before now.
He's feeling like a cliché, but for once it feels right as he picks up a pebble and tosses it at her window, second to the right.
She's feeling like her heart is about to escape from her chest as it beats rampantly, while she eases open her window staring at the boy in front of her.
This moment right here, is the type only meant for story books. For good girls and boys who do good things. But meant to be, and actuality are two very different things.
This moment right here, is for the dancers and runners and all the others. The ones that just can't help it. The one's who love and are loved but it the most usual ways. The one's living out their very own clichés, capturing elusive childhood love they thought they lost. This is a moment of dreams coming true, stars granting wishes, and all other magical things. Storms clearing and roots being replanted, stronger, firmer.
This is a moment of everything as she stares wide-eyed at him, and he stares back. He ran to the bus station at two in the morning after hours of tossing and turning in his own bed, he finally took the leap he had spent years waiting to do. All because he saw a little eight year old girl with chocolate curls in a pink tutu and his favorite brand of sneakers twirling in the parking lot of a Pathmark after dinner that day.