Dancer
By Mizuki Kurenaida
A/N: I am aware that there are MANY grammar mistakes in this. At this point I call upon my poetic liscense, because I wrote it with those mistakes for a reason. It's not just me being stupid.
Even though there is nothing explicit nor anything REALLY worth the rating, this is rated M because of the theme.
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII or any of it's characters, places, or themes. Those rights belong to Squaresoft, which is now Square-Enix. I do however, own every word written in this particular sequence. All of it was written by me and no one is allowed to use it.
Some people called her a whore, a slut, washed up, a stripper, prostitute, everything that was true, but wasn't. Quite honestly, she didn't mind it at all, because in the end, no matter what happened there, it never left there, and it never left her. All those feelings, all those mixing, confusing feelings were there and on that stage, she could always feel them.
The Heat
The Passion
The Beat
S'all Crashin'
Around and around
up
down
swing
kick
bend
tease
one foot
in front of
the other
maybe
not
pretzel knot
push
pull
thrust
moan
scream
his name
her name
their name
your name
what
is it
can't
remember
dizzy
spinning
lights
screaming
clapping
slap
on the
what the hell
were
you thinking
lights
neon
candles
kisses
butterfly
flash
bounce
swing
kick
spin
throw
off the heels
turn
strut
you don't
give a damn
heat
passion
beat
all crashin'
everything
spinning
what the hell
where
am I
what am...
I doing...
Got to see
Got to breathe
Let
Go
Gonna..
Die..
Everything...
STOP
The music stopped. Everything stopped. Frozen. A single moment in eternity where it all stretched to phenomenally thin proportions. This was what she craved. That single solitary moment, when an act is done, and the crowd is still in awe and shocked to silence.
She gave a small tug of the lips and looked out deliriously happy at all the people who came to watch her do what she did best. Phenomenally thin barriers crashed and slap-banged together for the last time. The moment was gone; the crowd burst into applause, wolf whistles, cat calls, screaming and shouting her name, her alias, her alibi, her identity on the stage.
Ya gotta see
What's down there
What's happenin' to me
Why there's so much wear and tear
On those skanky heels
That aren't supposed to be on my feet
That aren't supposed to be seen before, during, after meals
The ones that you were never meant to meet
Devil's Angel
Angel's Blood
River Tears
Great Ninja
GREAT Ninja
Yuffie.
She came down from her high, placed her heeled feet on the stage, stood straight and proud, not ashamed, NEVER ashamed...
And bowed.
This was all she craved, other than materia, and here, she was allowed to have it, have her freedom, her feelings, her everything that no one wanted to give.
She walked off the stage, a saucy smile on her face, grateful that the ones she called her friends, the ones who held her back, didn't let her express her true feelings, weren't there to see what she was doing, and mistake it as her having no other choice.
Unbeknownst to her though, red eyes had watched her entire performance, seen her desire, her passion, the beat she followed, the happiness she exuded, and left.
Because he knew, because he could see, that this was where she wanted to be, and he knew, that he shouldn't fix what's not broken.
The Great Dancer Yuffie
Fin