Helllllllooooo my beautiful reader(s)! Welcome to the second riveting (yeah, right) installment in my 100 short stories challenge! This one is one of my favorites so far! So fun to write! I am a dancer myself, and I could get all technical, but I don't want to make you look up all the fancy terms. This is actually the first one I wrote, but I thought roses would kinda serve as a better opening story. So, anyways, as you can see, my Ib photo for this story is adorable, but if you think you know a better one, PLEASE send it to me! I've just gotten used to putting up photos on here (i'm old-school ff.n) and I would love to get something cute. ^^ Without further ado, I'm going to set you loose now! Read, my fans. READ!

Here is a link to the song Bound (I DON'T KNOW IF THAT'S REALLY THE NAME, HEARD THE SONG ON DANCE MOM'S, AND IT REMINDED ME OF IB! AND, YES, I DO WATCH DANCE MOMS! Please excuse the random picture, this is the only link I could find): watch?v=FX958OWrkAc

Disclaimer: I do not own Ib, that belongs to the fabulous Kouri! I ALSO do not own the song listed above, it just reminds me of Ib. c:

"What's this?" Garry accepted the small envelope from his little companion with a smile. It was a cold, wintery Saturday, and Garry had volunteered to keep Ib overnight since it was her parent's date night. She smiled up at him brightly from her spot on his light blue sofa. Garry leaned back into the cushions as Ib inched closer to look over his shoulder as he carefully opened the small lavender envelope. He pulled out the slip of paper, clearing his throat to read the fancy script scrawled across the note out loud. "You are invited to attend the Kiroshima Dance Academy's Winter Recital, courtesy of Ib Mitsuhara." Garry looked over at Ib in surprise. "I didn't know you were a dancer."

Ib nodded. "I've had practice from 5-8 p.m. every Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday since I was 4. That's why I always had to leave early on those days. The recital's tomorrow, and I have a solo..." Garry laughed and ruffled her hair affectionately.

"Of course I'll come... What song is it to? What's it all about?" he asked. Ib shook her head, causing Garry to sigh. "Not giving out spoilers, eh?" Garry put his hands behind his head and crossed his legs. "Fine. Guess I'll see it tomorrow... Speaking of which, you need your sleep; gotta be at your best for your recital." Garry got up and showed Ib to his guest room. Garry crawled into his own bed soon after and quickly fell into a peaceful sleep.

A cold evening wind plagued the streets, bringing with it the first heavy snowfall of winter. Garry stopped in front of a large building; the Kiroshima Theatre Company. Garry fidgeted with the sleeves of his black tuxedo, feeling ridiculously overdressed. But they were the best clothes he had. He held a single red rose in his hand to give to Ib after her performance. He took a deep breath and walked inside. The theatre was huge, full of hundreds of people.

"Hello Garry!" he heard a familiar sweet voice call out his name. He turned and saw Ib's parents waving for him towards the front row. He was glad Ib's mother was so accepting of him being friends with her daughter, despite being nine years older than her. Her father... not so much. He waved back with a smile and made his way to sit next to the couple. He made idle conversation about the weather with , despite the glare he had constantly fixated on the lavender-haired man. Soon, the lights dimmed and the red velvet curtains opened.

Garry watched duets, trios, and solos, but according to the playbill, Ib performed last. Just his luck. About 45 minutes later, they came to the final dance. Garry eagerly fixed his posture, eyes trained on the right side of the stage where Ib was to walk on. "Our final solo is contemporary lyrical style. It is to be performed by one of the most advanced students in our studio. Please welcome Miss Ib Mitsuhara performing 'Bound'."

Garry gasped when he saw Ib's costume. She was wearing a long green dress, her hair done up in loose curls. A yellow rose was positioned in her silky mahogany waves, an eerily familiar blue doll grasped in her right hand. She strode into the center of the stage, assuming her starting position. The light, airy music filled the room, the lights focusing on the 9-year-old center stage.

Starts out sweet, but then it tastes bitter

The light it hits so right you think it's a painting

But it's not.

Garry watched her twirl and leap about the stage, her dress flaring up around her like a blooming flower. She looked stunning and mature, the light shining off her delicately powdered face, creating a glowing effect.

It's so hot... And I've gotta get out

Gotta get out

Gotta get out.

Nostalgia washed over him, and he suddenly realized what she was doing. This was Mary's story. She was recreating it, almost as if as a legacy, through her own creative outlet. She had yearned to escape her fabricated prison she was born into through a cruel twist of fate, and the emotion conveyed through the dance almost had him tearing up. The song played through, with some amazing displays of skill, strength, and flexibility from Ib; splits, extensions, even flips. The music began to ebb away, and Garry couldn't help himself; he stood up and clapped, probably much louder than he should have. When the dancers took their final bow and headed off stage, he dashed to the wings, searching for the Mary look-alike. He found her talking to a few other dancers and ran up to her, kneeling to her eye-level and handing her the rose. She smiled at him fondly and threw her arms around his neck.

He squeezed her back, smiling luminously. "That was amazing... I'm guessing the song choice was yours?" Ib nodded and looked up at him with her large crimson eyes.

"The song, costume, and concept was mine; I even sewed the little doll. My dance instructor choreographed it, though. Hey, Garry..." she murmured, looking down at her feet, blushing slightly. He looked at her, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. "Will you come see me dance again?"

Garry tilted her chin to face him and flashed her a crooked grin. "I'll come to all of your performances; if you'd like that, that is." She nodded and held out her pinky to him. "Pinky promise, eh?" he laughed in amusement, locking his pinky with hers.

Garry stood in the wings of a giant stage; the name he couldn't seem to recall. A bushel of red roses in one hand, a black box in the other. He heard the music slowly fading away, and he looked out at the dancer on the stage. She took a final bow and walked towards him, a huge grin spreading across her face. He opened his arms, allowing her to bring him into a tender embrace. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her head. She pulled away after a minute or so, and Garry held out the flowers.

She took them and giggled. "For me?" she asked playfully. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, something he had always done as a sign of affection.

"That's not all," he said, opening the black box to reveal a thin sterling silver necklace, a small diamond heart dangling in the center. Her eyes lit up, and her cheeks blushed a deep red.

"You didn't have to do this," she muttered as he gently clasped the necklace around her neck. He rested one hand on her slender hip, the other cupping her cheek.

"Why wouldn't I get my beautiful girlfriend a present?" he murmured. He closed the distance between them and touched his lips to hers. Though it was short, the passion was prominent. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his chest, his heartbeat ringing in her ears. "Happy 20th Birthday, Ib."

Awwww a little bit of romance c: I was sure that all the fangirls squealed when I wrote Garry was holding a black box... I'm sure 99.7% of them shot themselves when it turned out to just be a necklace. For those of you still alive, R&R!