She slid out from under the covers and stepped onto the floor. The room was just a little bit chill after the warmth of the covers, but Raven didn't mind. The coolness helped wake her up, made her feel alert.
She stretched, feeling lazy muscles tighten. Then she walked towards the small bathroom set off her bedroom.
She turned on the light and pulled off her clothes. Goosebumps rose as air brushed her skin. The leotard and leggings were neatly stacked on the counter and a towel placed next to the shower. Raven stepped in, found solid footing, and adjusted the water temperature.
The water was not too hot, not too cold; just right. It slipped over her hands like a second skin. She turned on the shower head and started washing her hair.
The shampoo lathered up quickly. She ran it through her short hair, feeling the strands detangle, the scalp tingle. The shampoo rinsed out easily, leaving her hair soft and squeaky clean.
She put a special conditioner in next; it gelled protectively over her hair and began revitalizing it. While the conditioner sat, she started scrubbing her skin.
Her washcloth was just a little rough, waking up her skin. She rubbed her arms and felt the muscles start to relax again. The shower rained down on her back, softening her neck and shoulders. She could feel it washing away all thought.
She stood there in the shower, letting the water pound on her muscles. It felt like the best massage ever. She could release her iron control and feel, without fear . . . and the only thing she felt was calm. No anger, no fear. Just peace.
The hot water started to run out and Raven quickly rinsed out the conditioner. After the last of it spiraled down the drain, she turned off the shower and reached for her towel.
After toweling off, Raven walked back into her bedroom. She pulled a fresh outfit from her closet and started putting it on. Soft cotton underwear was followed by her sturdy leggings, only a shade paler than her skin. She wasn't really sure what they were made of, but they were strong enough to take the abuse of a superhero's life and soft enough to make her forget she was wearing them.
A black leotard went on next. She pulled it over her head, wiggled it until it sat correctly over her chest, then fastened it at the bottom. She turned around a few times in front of the mirror to make sure that the seams were invisible, then started pulling on her boots.
When that was done, she brushed and dried her hair. It felt so soft, running through her hands. When she parted it just right, it fell in sweeping wings on either side of her face, without falling into her eyes or getting in her way. She peered at it, decided it was satisfactory.
Her alarm started beeping as she put on eyeliner. She reached out her magic to turn it off. She bumped the switch a little too hard, turning the clock to 'FM'. She didn't bother to fix it. Instead she listened to ambient trance as she finished with her makeup.
She found herself humming to the rhythm of the music. When she went to reach for her cloak, she stopped by the bed and just listened.
The beat wove its way under her skin, down to her feet. She could feel it tugging at her hips and pulling at her hands. She listened as one song ended, another began.
Then Raven began to dance.
It was awkward, unfamiliar. But it was definitely dancing. She stepped and twirled, spun and tapped. She weaved her arms through the air and swung her hips in circles. Her feet found their own patterns as she listened.
Then she sang. Her voice, a little rusty, a little hoarse, started to echo the radio. Her body and her voice danced around each other to the time of the music.
One song played into another, then another, then another. Time flew by as her emotions held sway, as she allowed herself an outlet. As she allowed herself to express - joy.
The music slowed, stopped. Raven slowed with it, stopped with it. She had spent a long time dancing. It was time for her to get on with her morning. She pulled her cloak out of the closet, put it on.
She was about to pull the hood over her head when another song began. She hesitated, looked at the door, looked at the radio.
Raven let her hands fall from her hood and danced one more time.
The cloak swirled about her, one minute tugging at her ankles, the next flying behind her. For once, the cloak didn't seem like a symbol of control. For this once, it was freedom.
The song ended, she turned off the radio. The sky was just starting to lighten; it was time for her to go find breakfast. She stepped out the door of her room, turning out the lights as she went.
But the hood stayed down.