Hi everybody! I have not forgotten you or this story, I am so sorry for the lateness of this post, but I had to finish painting my room, the base coat anyway, then I had to pack up to move back into my apartment, school started back on the 24th and they are definitely not easing us into the semester, and it's just been absolute insanity the last 2-3 weeks. I don't know what my upload schedule's going to look like from here on out as I'm taking three literature classes and two that require most if not all of the work to be done exclusively in French, but I'm going to do my best to do better because I love this story and I love that so many of you love this story, or at least really like it if you're still here, but please try to stay patient with me like you have this whole time. I appreciate all of you more than you know and cannot thank you enough for your support throughout this little story of mine. Anyway, I hope you like it!
The week before the contest, rehearsals for InuYasha's wedding have ended as it is the following weekend, so Kagome and I have begun using that extra hour to continue polishing our routines. When I arrive for our now two-hour session, I find my gaze drawn, of their own accord, to the rather large amount of leg displayed through a slit in Kagome's skirt as she kneels in front of her computer. My breath catches, momentarily, and I clear my throat. She startles slightly at the sudden noise and I only just manage to tear my gaze away before she fixes me with a smile.
"Hey! You made it, I was kind of worried, I heard there was a bad wreck not too far from your office and didn't know if you'd be able to get around it. You are okay, right?" She asks, concern lacing her voice. I nod once, letting myself fully into the studio.
"Indeed, this one was not involved." She smiles again, no small amount of relief in her expression.
"Good. You know the drill by now, we're just going to run through the routines and clean them up as much as possible. All things considered, I think we're in pretty good shape, but the judges are going to be looking for every minor flaw and I really can't afford to give them one. Not that I think you'll mess up or anything! I mean, fingers crossed we don't, but I don't think we can really be over-rehearsed for this sort of thing do you?" She stands up, leaning on one leg, and thus allowing me a full view of the length of her leg through the hip-high slit in the right side of her skirt. My chest tightens, physically suppressing the growl aching to rumble throughout my being. She catches my glance and, almost immediately, her cheeks flush a rosy shade of pink.
"I wanted to make sure we practiced in all of the skirts I'll be wearing for the competition. The different cuts and materials can feel different for both partners and I just want to make sure that we're really secure in everything." Thinking back on previous practices, I realise she has worn a variety of short and floor-length skirts and they had, indeed, made slight differences in how much space was kept between us or how much time spent between turns. "I know it's kind of… revealing, but it's just for our tango, paso, and rumba." If you are unable to control yourself over this then you are undeserving of her at all, I inform my inner beast, only nodding my head once he settles back into the recesses of my mind.
"This one understands. What will we be beginning with this evening?" She smiles a bit, turning her back to me once more. I take a deep breath, trying not to focus on her sweet scent pervading the air, gathering my composure. Self-control or not, I groan internally, this is going to be a long two hours.
"I figured we'd run through the routines in the order we'll be performing them next weekend. That work?" I drape my jacket over the back of one of the chairs near the door and walk to the center of the room, waiting for her to finish setting up.
"You are the professional, I will trust your judgement." Pride coats her scent, the hint of a smile playing on her lips in her reflection. We take our starting positions for the waltz and quickly begin running through each routine. With every turn, each sweep of her leg, her skirts wrap around my own legs, enveloping us together in the fabric. I am all too aware of the lack of fabric separating us as she wraps her leg around my hips for support when I dip her in our latin based dances as it falls away altogether, exposing the full expanse of her perfectly toned limb. I am loathed to admit that it takes every ounce of concentration in my possession not to pull her in closer than choreographed or let my hands roam of their own accord. She appears to be ignorant of my internal struggle, much to my silent gratitude, as her expressions remain the same as they have been in our previous rehearsals. When she draws her foot up the inside of my leg, an involuntary shiver runs up my spine as I grip her hand and spin her out, just a touch harder than necessary. Though I am sure she notices, she does not say anything about it. By the end of our session, the flush of her skin combined with her laboured breathing is nearly enough to force my hand. I am simultaneously grateful and extremely disappointed when she pulls away.
"That was great! You really nailed the passion this week, I could feel it in every move we made! I'm sure it looks even better on the recording," she exclaims, excitedly, as she bounds over to the small recording device she had set up a few weeks prior. She is careful to cover her legs with her skirt as she sits down and I find it slightly easier to focus again, well enough to sit next to her, watching as she rewinds the footage. She is oddly quiet as we watch, whereas normally she comments throughout on areas she feels require improvement. I glance at her from the corner of my eye during our paso doble and find her cheeks tinged a darker pink than they had been previously. Perhaps she is not so unaffected as she seemed, my inner beast growls low from the back of my mind. I quiet him and resume watching, waiting for her notes. However, we reach the end of the recording and she still has not uttered a single word. Growing concerned, I tilt my head, watching her.
"Kagome?" She remains staring at the screen, but, ever so slowly, a smile finds its way to her lips and she finally turns to face me, hope gleaming from her cerulean gaze.
"If we manage to it just like that," she whispers, voice taut as her eyes well up with tears. "We just might get perfect scores across the board." I only just manage to catch her as she throws her arms around my neck, bracing us with one hand while the other snakes around her waist. My eyes close as I breathe in the scent of her perfume intermingling with her natural scent in a heady aroma. "Thank you, thank you so so much," she whispers against my neck. I feel her tears slide down her cheek and into the collar of my shirt and pull her closer. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Sesshomaru." My eyes fly open at her admission, thrilled at the idea of her needing me. At being able to be there for her and assist her, and her letting me.
"I can assure you, the pleasure has been mine," I promise her. She pulls back with a slightly embarrassed giggle, though does not remove herself from my lap, and so I keep my arm around her waist should she lose her balance.
"I must look like a mess," she laughs, roughly wiping away her tears. I take her wrist in my hand before gently running my thumb underneath her eye. She blushes instantly, a colour that only darkens when I wipe the other with my knuckle.
"Not in the slightest," I assure her. "Beautiful." The word slips out on a breath. She stares at me in shock for a moment, seemingly unable to comprehend what she had inevitably heard, before shaking her head and scrambling to stand up.
"Save some of the romance for your mystery girl, Romeo," she attempts to tease, but it is evident in her quickly increasing heart rate and the quiver in her voice that she is reminding herself as well of this supposed other woman. "I, um, I think we're good for the night. I'm sure Rin wouldn't mind having you home earlier than usual, we can just pick back up next week, sound good?" Leaving no room for argument, she begins packing away her things.
"I do hope that I have not made you uncomfortable," I inquire, standing up. She quickly turns to face me, but does not meet my eyes.
"What? Psh, no, of course not! I just remembered I have some stuff to get done and we're honestly ready to go and I don't see the point in staying later if there's nothing to fix, ya know? You and me, we're good, totally awesome! Why wouldn't we be? I'm sure you say stuff like that to girls all the time," she rambles, quickly looking panicked as she runs her hands through her quickly falling bun. "Not that I'm saying you're a flirt or anything! I just meant, I mean, you're charismatic when you want to be and very straight forward and I'm sure things like that are normal to you, which is totally fine, great even!" She resumes packing her things, shoving her belongings into her bag rather quickly in an attempt to escape the situation faster. "But totally not why I'm calling it a night, like I said, I still have a lot to get done before the contest and some other stuff that needs looking into and doing and it's nothing at all to do with you, I swear!" Seeing no way to ease the situation, I sigh.
"At least allow me to assist you in carrying your things," I offer, holding the door for the frazzled young woman.
"No need! I got it! And the bus is coming in… three minutes so perfect timing! I'll see you next week!" She takes off in the direction of the bus stop, not even waiting for a reply. Shortly after she disappears around the corner, my phone buzzes in my pocket. The screen reveals a text message from the hanyou.
Restaurant down from Kagome's studio. 15 minutes. We need to talk.
I sigh again as I get into my car. Now what, I cannot help but wonder as I pull out of my space.