Part I
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Leon came into the studio early.
He liked to come around this time for he knew he'd have the place to himself. The instructor left it open for anyone who felt like coming in for extra practice.
Most did, except not so early on the weekends.
His back was to the rest of the room as he hung up his coat and scarf.
His hand paused as he saw a fuzzy cream scarf and a pink coat already hanging on the hooks. He slowly blinked at its presence and then snapped out of it when he heard the slapping of palms on the floor.
Leon turned.
A young woman with red hair was doing a handstand.
He walked over.
"Good morning!" she chirruped. He raised an eyebrow as the blood rushed to her head. When he didn't respond, she continued, "Nice day, huh? A little chilly, but overall, it was a pretty relaxing walk over."
Her legs suddenly bent over to the floor. Leon quickly moved out of the way.
"Oops! Sorry about that!"
He wondered if he should just come in tomorrow…
SL
He ended up staying that day.
And the next day.
Then the following three weekends.
She was there every time. He pretty much ignored her when he practiced. She seemed to be ok with that, though, she'd talk every once in a while even though he didn't respond.
By the fifth weekend, he finally spoke.
"When did you come here?"
He saw her stumble in the middle of a spin. She caught herself and then turned towards him.
"You talked! I was almost wondering if you were mute." Her eyes widened as she covered her mouth. "Not that it's not ok to be mute. I've known some very nice mute people. I even picked up a little bit of sign language—"
"It's fine," he murmured. He was starting to regret asking her.
She calmed down. "I've been coming to the studio for a few months now. I actually came over from Japan about a year ago."
He nodded and then returned to his routine.
He didn't see the small smile on her face.
SL
The start of the sixth week, he saw her outside of the studio.
She had a bag of groceries in one hand and a steaming cup of something in the other.
"Hello, Leon!"
"Sora," was his short reply.
They walked together for a bit.
"I thought about you," she stated. His eye twitched—why, he wasn't sure. If she saw it, she didn't comment on it. "I was buying groceries when I found fresh French bread that just came out from the oven."
He softly scoffed. She grinned at him.
"Did you want some? It's still warm."
To his surprise, she thrusted her cup to him. He wordlessly grabbed it before she let go of it. With both hands free, she pulled out the bread and offered it to him.
He ripped off a piece.
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Two and a half months.
That's how long he's been aware of her presence. He could spot her anywhere in the studio during the weekdays. A few times she caught him looking from his side of the room. She'd smile and give a little wave. Sometimes, he mustered a nod back. Her smile would grow when he did.
During the weekend practices, he found himself responding back to her statements. Sometimes, they even managed to have a decent conversation or two. It was refreshing to be able to interact again.
He wondered about her actions as well as his own.
SL
It was Sunday morning in the studio.
Sora was doing some cooling down exercises when he spoke.
"Why haven't you asked?"
"Asked what?" she responded a little out of breath.
Leon went to stand in front of her. When she saw his somber face, she halted. "I know what they say to the newcomers," he lowly muttered, "They don't think I can hear from where I am."
She peered up at him. The thick sheets of frigid ice that the other dancers had said covered his eyes had multiple cracks.
She wondered if they knew that it had never been completely solid.
"Do you want me to ask?" she softly murmured.
He quietly shook his head.
She gave him a somewhat dejected smile. "That's why."
He watched her wrap her scarf around her neck and button up her pink coat. When he opened the door for her, she looked up at him. Her hand brushed against his as she widened the door's opening.
"See you next week."
He stood by the door for a bit after she closed it.
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Five months in and they had their first dispute.
"I was just trying to help!" Her hands were on her hips—the body language of upset, anger, frustration…defense.
His eyes were frosted as he regarded her. "I don't need help."
She huffed. "I said it as a friendly, constructive piece of advice. You're the one that's taking it too personally."
He towered over her. "Dancing is personal."
She didn't back down. "But it's not meant to be solo."
Those supposed grey orbs of ice were scorching; they were watching, reading, deciding…
"…Ask me."
Her eyes were intense as they held onto his. "I shouldn't have to."
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He manipulated her body to bend backwards.
She followed, but not mindlessly. Her back curved, and then she twisted out of his hold.
He followed and grabbed her from behind. He tossed her up and watched as she spun in the air. Strands of red hair slipped out of her bun. When he caught her, she curled her body around him.
His hands gripped her waist. Her hands gripped his long hair.
They kissed.
Then, they let go.
Her palms hit the floor; both feet rested on one of his shoulders. She arched her body; her eyes briefly looked at him. He looked back. She smoothly brought her legs down when she felt him move.
When she straightened, he hooked their elbows from behind and then made her flip over his back.
Her feet lightly touched the floor and easily transitioned into a slow split. His back stayed bent, his eyes watched her descend. Their hands slid along each other's arms.
She reached the floor; her arm wrapped around his neck.
He stood and lifted her up with him.
Her legs wrapped around him. His hands undid her hair.
Lips met again.
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Eight months—three months spent as partners.
They were a writhing mess on the couch. Her hands were clenching and unclenching along his back.
"Leon," she softly moaned. "We need to go."
Her words were soon forgotten as their mouths reconnected. His hands were under her shirt, touching incredibly soft skin. She moaned again. Her own hands slipped under his collar to touch his bare back.
He groaned at the contact.
Her cell phone alarm went off. She abruptly pulled away from his kiss.
"We really need to go now. That's the third snooze."
His weight kept her lying down. He reached a hand over to the coffee table to look at the cell phone.
"We have time. The performance starts at 7PM." He pressed the snooze option again.
"But we have to sign in and get dressed and do our make-up and—" Her voice caught as his hands lifted her up. A disorienting few seconds later, she found him beneath her.
"Tell you what," he lowly murmured as his hands languidly traveled along her legs, "I'll let you decide what we do for the next five minutes."
Sora was about to call his bluff and get up when she saw the way he was looking at her. It made her subconsciously bite her bottom lip.
"You play dirty."
He let out a half smirk as she pressed her mouth against his.
SL
One whole year.
People approached them after their performance. One critic pulled her aside.
"You're incredible."
Sora blushed and let out a light laugh. "That's what practicing and training will do for you."
"No, that's not what I meant." The woman lowered her voice. "I've been watching Leon perform for years, even back when he performed with his dear sister, God bless her soul." The woman's eyes focused back onto her. "After her death, he couldn't handle having other partners. But look at him now!"
Sora followed the woman's gaze.
She saw Leon nodding at something a couple was telling him. His stance was relaxed, one of his hands casually in his pants' pocket. He said something which made the couple laugh.
She felt the corners of her mouth lifting up.
SL
"What did you say?"
Leon moved his eyes from the movie. Sora was tucked under his arm.
"You're going to have to clarify that question."
Her arm around his torso squeezed. He felt her snuggle closer along his side.
"After our performance on Saturday, you were talking to a couple." She gave a smile. "Something you said made them laugh; I was just curious what it was."
"…They asked me how I met you."
Her head perked up.
His eyes slanted over to her. "I told them you nearly flattened me to the studio floor."
"I did not!" She straightened up. "Everybody knows that you don't stand so close to someone doing a handstand!" With a haughty tilt of her head, she amended, "Every smart person knows that."
She missed the glint in his eyes.
He pushed her onto her back and flattened her against the couch cushions. Her eyes were wide, but not because of shock or fear.
"You should be careful with your words. They'll lead you into trouble," he murmured into her ear before he lightly nipped it.
She shuddered a little as she anticipated what was to come. "I think I like this kind of trouble," she breathed out as he placed love bites down her neck.
His tongue came out to run along the hollow of her throat. "So do I," he rumbled out against her skin. She shivered as his breath cooled the area he just licked.
SL
They were in the back of a cab after a dinner date.
They had been shooting each other heated glances throughout their meal. Near the end of the dinner, her fingers ran along his palm. His fingers twitched at the sensation she was causing.
"Do you want dessert?"
She lightly shrugged. "Not really."
Her dark eyes connected with his. She leaned out of her seat to kiss him.
"I want something else," she whispered against his mouth. Her lips pressed more firmly and then she pulled back.
He had promptly called for the check.
Now, they were in the cab. His arm was wrapped around her shoulders. Their hands impatiently wandered over each other.
When his hand went up her thigh, she let out a half whimper.
At the sound, his head came down to kiss her. He coaxed her mouth to open and nearly moaned when she did. Her toes curled as she let him kiss her all he wanted, in what manner he wanted, for whatever length of time.
They were so enraptured with each other that they didn't even notice when the cab driver let out a loud curse.
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