Disclaimer: TMNT is not mine….but the girl is, so Neah!
Danseuse of the Nighttide
And there she was.
Dancing in the middle of Central Park; beckoning to him with her movements like a Siren's song to a sea captain's death.
And like that sea captain, he just could not resist.
Every week she came. Same day, same time, same dance. It intrigued him, and he came every time to prove it. Her dance only took place in the park, it being virtually deserted, but nevertheless, she danced as if she was performing. Her only audience being the moon, the stars…
And oblivious to her, his eyes.
But why would she dance? Naturally, his intuition made up stories, history, for the phantom dancer. Maybe she needed a release from the drearily normal 'hustle and bustle' life of a New Yorker?
Or maybe she was just crazy?
He hoped it wasn't the latter. Besides, she was too damn beautiful for it to be the latter.
Her hair flowed freely in soft black curls that all but resonated in the moonlight. They ran all the way down her back in waterfalls of heaven and as she twisted and turned in the darkness; they flowed in shiny black rivulets while following her every move.
He breathed.
Her white dress spun around her as she twirled, its cascade outward turning her into the angel she probably didn't know she was. Meanwhile, her face expressed the uttermost calm as a hint of a small smile spread on her beautifully perfect red lips.
An angel, his angel.
His Angel of the Night, but she just didn't know it yet.
And she probably never will.
It was not as if he could just talk to her it. Heck, he couldn't even let her see him, all because of some cruel joke the same being that made her…perfect…played on him and his brothers.
They were all turtles, of the mutant variety, and he could almost hear the gods laughing because of it. He was forced to stick to the shadows, all of the time. This time, being no exception. His heart ached. Not because of his misfortunes, but because of the knowledge that if she ever saw his face she would probably scream and run away. So keeping to himself in the shadows seemed to be his best bet.
At least, it kept him from getting hurt.
Raphael was never one to daydream or even fantasize, but he had to make an exception with her. He watched her every week, leaving the lair and journeying into the park in hopes of just seeing her. Although he truly didn't know why (he had seen her dancing style on TV, the Ballet, and didn't much care for it then) He knew one thing. And he knew it more than anything he had ever known in his life…
He wanted her for his own.
But because he was so different, he knew he could never have her.
Well, he guessed it was all for the best…If she was his, he would never let her go.
But he did manage to get close, and every week he managed to get just as close as the last, which brought its own rewards, her scent catching his nostrils every so often as she twirled by.
Not wanting to risking exposure, but risking it all the same, he came every week just to watch her in her masquerade with the moonlight, the stars' light only enhancing the celestial aura of it all.
Stunningly beautiful and nearly a god, she danced a masquerade with the stars and the heavens as only perfect gods should.
A truly perfect being.
He couldn't help but wonder…
He wondered how her butterfly kisses would feel on his lips, how her feather soft hands would feel on his cheek.
How her sweet breath would feel on his own…
She danced now, her feather white bare feet pointed outward as she leapt into the air from the imperfect grass below.
A flawless ballerina, full of grace and agility. His flawless ballerina. Well, not quite, but he could fantasize couldn't he?
She was everything he had ever wanted, and at the same time, she was everything he couldn't have.
He sighed. That was just the way things had to be.
His eyes stayed glued on her as her dancing slowed before stopping.
Her masquerade was now complete.
With her breath on the wind, obliviously accompanied by the beating of his heart, she sighed. He sighed as well, but for different reasons as he watched her go, his heart going with her.
He could love her, he knew he could. He would never have the chance too, though.
But he knew his dreams had a way working around that little fact of life…didn't they?
He now stepped out from the relative cover of darkness and into the light of that that was earth's moon. Looking down and to the ground he couldn't help but notice the slightly disturbed grass that now occupied the aura filled clearing.
Her foot prints. They were his only evidence that she was real, and not a figment of his imagination. He could not resist touching it, though, this grass patted down by her celestial feet. Her footprints being the only remnants of the god she was, the angel she was.
His Angel.
His hands ran over the grass as he kneeled, feeling the soft blades brush over his roughed and calloused fingers in a cool breeze of silk. It was all he could take as his heart melted, a breath releasing as it did.
He had to see her again. He had to, if not for his mind's sake, then for his heart's sake.
He knew he had to see her again because his heart told him so, and being one to always listen to his heart, he knew he had to comply. That's what kept pulling him back to this place, week after week for the past year.
Even he had to admit, though, it was a vicious cycle.
A week of fighting, or surviving…just for the chances of seeing her again in her dance of Ballet with the gods.
A Perfect Ballerina.
His Perfect Ballerina.
'Yeah right, I wish.' But it doesn't hurt to dream does it?
He stood, reluctantly drawing his hands back from the soft grasses. He would be back next week, just as he had been for the past year. He knew now he was drawn in, the cycle never ending. He would be back, and as she danced, he would watch. That was how was, and that's how it would always be.
Besides, it was better this way.
He would always watch his one and only love from afar. No getting hurt, no getting discovered. To him she would always be His angel, His perfect Ballerina. But never truly his, or at least…
Not his outside of his dreams. But that's was all he had, wasn't it?
His dreams.
Her Dance.
They both went hand in hand as a few of the many things he could never have in this world.
And his heart wept because of it.
Nevertheless, it was just the way things had to be…
-
Hm, Very interesting. Been hitting around an Idea for a fic like this for a while. I kind of like it. A little Angst, A Little Romance. But mostly just General. Not a Real plot, just…Raph. Hm…I don't know what to think, how about YOU tell ME! (R and R hint hint!) Lol.