For FFNet
Linger
It was her old habit, visiting the dance studio. Now that Kat was out of the Academy, though, she never had much of an excuse. The perky blonde did one show with the company and was done, claiming that her soul was 'being ripped out of her body before her very eyes.' Abigail figured that much would happen; the last thing Kat Karamakov wanted to be was a duplicate of her mother, and by accepting the offer from the company she realized she'd started down that exact track.
She visited for the first time in three years, toting Charlie by his hand. They were off to see Kat, who now taught at the Academy. It wasn't her first choice job, she'd said reluctantly, but it was turning out better than she'd thought. She worked with the first years, helped them get out of their shells a bit more and get used to life at the academy. She was a good teacher, Abigail thought, because she didn't allow the students to feel bad about themselves the way she'd been allowed to her two years there. The younger generation of ballerinas would be getting guidance, not punishment.
She entered the studio quietly, in hopes that she would not be interrupting the class. She found soon, however, that the studio was already silent. Abigail opened her text messages and looked at the time, wondering if Kat had given her the wrong time. She sighed and looked around for a piece of paper, hoping to write her a note before leaving. Charlie had left her side, wandering around the studio in awe. For the three year-old, it was daunting to be in such a place of prestige. He walked slowly, his head upturned as he gaped at the high mirrors, the lights in the ceiling. Although Abigail would admit that the studio she'd trained in wasn't all that professional, Charlie still thought it was amazing.
"Mummy, is this the place from all of those videos you like to watch?" He asked, reaching his hand up to rest it on the ballet barre. She smiled softly, letting herself finally get wrapped up in the scenery around her. This was one of the first year studios. No, this was the first year studio, the one she'd first begun to study pas de deux in. She took a deep breath, letting the realization sink in.
"Yeah, it is. Char, would you look in my bag for some paper? I want to leave auntie Kat a note."
"But you said she was coming!" He pouted, marching to Abigail's bag and beginning to rummage through it. Before she could form her response she heard a chuckle, and glanced in the direction of the studio door.
"Can't stay away from the studio, Abigail?" She rolled her eyes and sauntered over to the man, arms folded over her chest. "I have paper for you, if you need it."
"Just here to visit your sister, Karamakov. Dance and I don't have the best relationship and now that I have somebody to live for, there's no way I'm going back. Not for a while, anyway." She was lost in thought for just a moment, and then looked over to her son. "Charlie, come say hello to your uncle Ethan please."
He practically skipped over, tearing his eyes from the barre long enough to see the tall, lean male talking to his mother. He was dressed in black and white, an outfit he recognized from the pictures hung in their house and some of the other men his mother and aunt hung out with. He grinned and ran around Ethan before stopping in front of him, craning his neck to look up at him.
"I'm Charlie Lieberman and I'm three years old." He held out his hand and Ethan took it, laughing slightly before shaking his head at Abigail. "Mummy, can I play?"
"Go ahead, Charlie. I'm going to talk to uncle Ethan for a while and then we'll head out, alright?" He nodded before running back to the barre, and although he was too tiny to reach he pretended that he could, letting the tips of his tiny fingers touch the wooden structure while attempting to mimic what he'd seen.
"Charlie…it's a cute name."
"Thanks."
"Lieberman too."
"For Sammy…" It was an awkward back-and –forth, Abigail shuffling her feet as she watched Charlie play. Ethan watched her. She hadn't changed much from the moment he'd last seen her, although her stomach was flat once again due to the fact that she obviously was no longer pregnant. Other than that, she still resembled the spitfire he'd admired so highly when he was in school. And suddenly, everything he'd felt for her in the years before came back, and Ethan was once again trapped by her.
"I hope you're doing well, Ethan. It was nice seeing you again." She gathered her bag from the floor and gestured to Charlie. He sighed, pouting a bit before moving to his mother's side once more. Ethan wanted to pout, wanted to ask her to stay, but she had a son now, everything was different. Instead he smiled down at Charlie, ruffling his hair.
"We'll have to catch up some time then, get acquainted." He smiled and she laughed a light laugh he hadn't realized he'd missed. She left and he felt a pang rise to his chest.