Disclaimer: I do not own yugioh, but I am borrowing the characters for my own twisted writing pleasure. Dance, my puppets, dance...
A/N: Hopefully, this quick, long update will keep everyone happy! "Con moto" means "with movement", just to let you know. Thanks to everyone who reviewed movement seven-- it was so strange that I wasn't sure how it would be received. Enjoy!
Movement 8: To be Played Con Moto
Her heels clicked on the wooden floor. "And...
"AGAIN!"
The class swept into their routine once more. Seto wiped his brow, a frown etched on his face. He didn't like it, but he was doing it. The exercise was, however, beginning to be a bit... exerting.
"1, 2, 3, 4! 1, 2, 3, 4! Keep up, you rhythm-less cretins! You clod-footed fools! Surely there is one among you who can meet my meager expectations!"
Seto scowled, and his long list of mental abuses against the thin, shrill woman only became longer. She was just standing there in the middle of the room, critiquing and insulting, not on the floor with the rest of them sweating like a pack of dogs. Of course, her expertise was unmatched and unquestioned– and until they got it right she had an excuse to be cruel. He understood the desire for perfection– it boiled within his heart as well.
"You!" the instructor called, a long, well-manicured finger pointing to Seto. "Why do you put no emotion into this? Do you really want to look like a robot? A machine? My young sir, have you no passion at all in that... body of yours?" She put a hand to her forehead and exhaled shakily. "What is the world coming to! I can hardly breathe. Everyone else– to the walls! I am going to show this haughty young fool just what this art is all about."
The other students– including Seto's own partner– obeyed, and he was left alone in the middle of the bright, humid room. He wasn't nervous, but he certainly wasn't happy, either.
"My star pupil," the woman said, clapping her hands together. "She is just what you need." She glared at him menacingly and held a finger up. "Stay."
Seto rolled his eyes as she flounced off to the studio in the other part of the small building. Her voice rang out before they could see her.
"Here we are!" she announced, practically singing. "Now, finally, we shall see some e-motion!" She reappeared, a thin arm held tightly in her hand.
"Alessandra-san," a soft, new voice said, "What's all this about? I don't mind helping out, of course, but I don't have much free time to practice, and–"
"Silence, my darling! This young fool needs you more. He has no sense at all, not when it comes to dancing. Please! He's in desperate need of your proficiency!"
A girl stepped out with Alessandra, and Seto's eyes nearly doubled in size. That was Téa. His Téa.
"Alright," Téa said with a sigh, "Who needs my help?"
A finger aimed its fire-engine red nail at Seto. "Him."
Téa's surprised showed only for a moment. "Oh. Well... of course I'll help him. I don't mind at all." She chucked softly, her mouth curving up into a wicked grin. "No, I don't mind at all."
Seto nearly gulped. He was caught. Caught.
Téa walked up and put his hand at her waist. "Hello Kaiba-kun," she purred. "Here for a little... lesson?"
He grunted assent, and let her lead their feet into the first of the steps.
"Though, isn't it strange?" she began, pushing him to move faster. "I could have sworn that I invited you to a party my father's business was having, and, in the invitation, warned you that dancing would be required. You, of course, assured me that this would be no problem." She surprised him with a quick twirl, pushing forward and grinding her body into his. "You wouldn't have... lied to me, right? I know that you wouldn't dream of doing something like that."
Seto had no chance to answer. Alessandra yelled something– in dance, which Seto certainly didn't speak– and Téa smirked again. Music, fast and warm, started playing, far-off and pale from a player in the corner.
"And here we go," Téa said evilly. "Just try and keep up."
They moved, their feet with minds of their own, whirling and spinning and moving in the step of some age-old dance. Seto had been coming for a week already, and was, in fact, becoming quite good. However, as had been stated so clearly, he lacked a passion for the sport. He didn't care about the dance, so he put no feeling into it whatsoever. Téa didn't like that. She eagerly sought to change it.
"That's right," she whispered, her voice soft and low. "You're doing beautifully. But hold me tighter, and try and be more confident." She smirked. "You know what you're doing."
"No reprimand, then?" he asked, as he spun her out, then back into his body's reach.
"Oh, that will come later," she assured him, "but for now... Don't you dare stop dancing."
He never dreamed of stopping. Not with her there, so hot, so right– moving to a rhythm he had always known. Her feet had wings, and her natural grace had never been so evident. He had often wondered why dancing had been such a "big deal" to her, but then, in that moment, he understood. It was her life.
She moved with the music, to the music, as easily as one would breathe. Her body swayed and spun like it had been created for that sole purpose– just to dance. Her cheeks were flushed with pleasure, and her breathing increased with the excitement. For a moment, her eyes closed, and a jolt of electricity passed through him as he felt– finally felt– the passion for dance she had known all along.
And, he decided, he would never let another man dance with her again. It was a nearly sexual experience in both its intensity and its raw passion.
The room was silent as the music went off and their dance ended. Téa was still in his arms, Seto noticed, though he felt no inclination to let her go.
"You dance beautifully," she whispered, wearing a satisfied, weary smile. He felt a surge of pride to know that he was the cause of it.
"Almost as well as you, hmm?"
She gently pulled down his arm and took a small step backward. "I don't think so, Seto. You've still got a long way to go." She turned on her heel and flounced out of the room. Applause erupted suddenly, and he felt his chest heaving with every breath.
"That," Alessandra said, coming up to him as the other students filed back onto the floor, "was amazing. That was no dance, that was love. How..." She glanced at him, utterly incredulous. "I feel as though I have just witnessed something deep and primal and unutterably private– how two strangers could have such a connection..." She shook her head. "A bit provocative, perhaps, but none the less an excellent job."
Seto held back a smile. He was eagerly anticipating dancing with Téa again.
"That, students, is how it should be done! I've no earthly clue how he accomplished it, so I hope you were watching closely! Now, for the next series we'll learn..."
Seto rejoined the rest, mind occupied with his partner's performance. She had felt like pure energy– her very flesh radiated with life and fullness and vitality and passion. Energy– he could find no other word to describe it.
He licked suddenly dry lips in anticipation.
The next time they danced, he fully intended on wearing her out.
End A/N: Bwa ha ha! Delicious, right? Mmm, azure-y goodness released into the world. I must admit, this has no plot. It's just a series of one-shots that take place-- unless specifically stated otherwise-- after the events of "Addiction". I'm slowly progressing their relationship, it's just not in any discernable storyline. Hopefully that's OK, and everyone likes it all the same. Review, please!
ILB