The next morning she showed up early for rehearsal. I was not surprised, though something changed in me whenever I saw her coming in through those doors. My heart would flutter in my chest and my neck would prickle with sweat, my body raging with fire.

But she would go on to her dance routine, only stopping when she miss-stepped or saw me shake my head. Then she would abandon the prince and walk towards me, seeking my counsel. I would tell her nothing except to let go, and to lose herself.

If only I had known how far she would take my instructions.

...

Later she was in her dressing room changing into the Black Swan, so she could get used to the costume and how it felt to move with it.

I wanted to see her, though I wasn't sure why. I just had this strong desire to go visit her.

So I did.

Knocking lightly on her dressing room door, I stood patiently waiting, ignoring the hushed whisperings of the other ballerinas who lurked in the hallways.

The door opened, and my beautiful swan greeted me with black-rimmed eyes.

"Thomas," she said with surprise.

"Hi, I just wanted to see how you were doing," I said somewhat hesitantly.

Her eyes glistened, the whites of her eyes tinted with pink. She opened her mouth to speak, but someone in the hall said something funny, and everyone started laughing. Suddenly I turned around to the gawking witnesses.

"Don't you have practicing to do or something?" I demanded shortly.

Gradually the ballerinas and assisitants drifted away.

I turned back to Nina.

"So... how are you?" I asked.

She looked down. "I'm good,"

I leaned in close to her, my lips inches away from her forehead. "You do not have to lie to me," I said softly. "We promised no boundaries between us, remember?"

"I'm not lying," she slid back a step, into her dressing room. "Can I please finish getting ready, now?"

"Of course," I straightened up, giving her a short smile. "Yes. I will be in the rehearsal room when you are ready."

I turned and walked away, down the empty hallway, with the closing door echoing after me.

...

"You are not a giraffe! Do not be so stiff. Swans have grace and beauty- show it to me! Let go of yourself and transform into the Black Swan!"

"I'm trying!" She wailed back, stumbling over her own feet. David, the man dancing with her, caught her and kept her from falling. The man at the piano abruptly stopped playing.

"Are you all right?" He asked.

"Nina!" I interupted loudly.

She pushed away from him and walked up to me, her tearful eyes big and red.

"Yes-?"

"David, guys, will you excuse us, please?" I moved past her and waved at everyone else to leave.

David shook his head, sighing. He grabbed his bag from under the bar and slung it over his shoulder. He followed the others out of the double doors in the back of the studio.

"Thomas, I'm sorry, I-"

"Why do you not do what you're told?" I asked sharply, turning around to face her.

"Ex...excuse me?" She twisted her fingers together nervously.

"You follow all the steps perfectly, you have each note of music written into your heart. You know how to dance, but you do not know how to listen."

She took a shaking step towards me. "Could...could you explain that? If you think I need more instruction, then, please, teach me. I-"

"Again, you fail to hear me correctly," I sighed heavily and scrubbed my face with my hands.

She closed her eyes, hanging her head as tears dripped from her nose and chin.

"Nina," I said more gently, appearing in front of her. "Why can you not trust me? Why can you not let go? What is it your are holding on to?"

I looked at her hands, shaking uncontrollably at her sides, streaked with black paint. I took her hands in mine and kissed them one by one.

Our eyes met, and she held my gaze.

"You can do this, Nina," I told her. "You are so much better than you think you are. Do not be so hard on yourself. You are doing it perfectly in sync with the music... all you have to do is let the music sync itself in you." I smiled reasuringly. "Trust me, my little princess,"

With my eyes, I traced her face down to her throat, then all the way down to her feet. "All you have to do is..." My voice trailed off as I noticed her feet.

"Nina," I looked up in alarm. "What happened?"

She looked down, horror flicking into her expression.

Her ballet shoes were soaked with blood.

...

"It's nothing, I'm fine, really!" She tried to tell me, sitting on the bench. I ignored her and continued untying the ribbons.

"Nina, these sort of things cannot be ignored. Such injuries can easily become infected!" Worry threatened to overwhelm me. How long had she been bleeding? Did she step on something? Did she break her toes?

"It's not an injury!" She protected. "My nails just break easily, is all." She shoved her hand in my face. "See?"

I glanced at her trembling hand, seeing nothing but the smudged paint. I swatted it away.

"Please, Nina, just let me take care of this." I untied her first slipper and carefully, gently, slid it off of her foot.

She sucked in her breath.

My stomach plunged into icy waters as I saw her cracked, bleeding toes through the mesh-like sock.

I stared up into her eyes, and she grasped onto the sides of the bench, her wet eyes hard and understanding.

I wiped my eyes suddenly, feeling itchy wetness. Blinking, I leaned back over her foot, and, cradling it in my lap, I slowly, slowly, began easing the sticky sock off of her foot.

She let out small gasps of pain as I did so, and I just whispered "Shhh, shhhh, it'll be all right, it's all right," over and over.

When I took the shoe off of her other foot, her thin hand clasped down onto my shoulder, her fingers driving into my shoulder blade like teeth.

I knew she was in pain. All I could do was tell her it would be all right, and that it was almost over.