Pairing: Alek/OC

Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize.

AN: So I took a break from working on my Teen Wolf fic update that has me banging my head against a wall and decided to post a chapter for this fic. For whatever reason, Oliviya is the easiest of my OC's to write, which is weird for me considering I'm not all the confident with 3

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3 The Discipline of Sharing

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In a few years, the grace she carried with her even as she walked down the hall of her little two-story single-family 900 square-foot home would be impossible to ignore. The unconscious way her toes would point as she performed the most menial of chores would make her lips quirk every time and she'd shake her head in stubborn consternation, because all of it would lead back to one simple conclusion…her mother had been right. And though she was fond of the woman, Oliviya honestly loathed giving up her claim on 'I-told-you-so', a smug American phrase she'd grown to love (though she was sure every culture had their own variation of the sentiment).

When she was older, and her form carried with it all the telltale signs of a dancer forged from sweat, blood, and perseverance, Oliviya could say she'd heard it a million times over...that it took more than instruction to move the way she did. Every dance teacher she'd ever had told her so.

She liked to think it took her very soul, her essence, to dance like she'd never been disgusted upon every glance she took at her treacherous frame in the mirror, to let herself fall into a piece of music so completely that she could hardly remember that she and her body had not always been allies, hadn't always known each other so completely. For a large portion of her life, every man but her seemed to know her body better than she did, had possessed it before she could ever really get to know its lines and curves and grow into it the way normal girls did.

And to think it all started with a bang...

"More energy girls!" The ballet instructor shouted sternly, striking her cane firmly against the hardwood floor of the studio.

Oliviya fought back a dark smile as one of the girls in front of her winced from the force, having yet to grow accustomed to Madame Lerner's brisk tone of instruction.

When her mother had suggested dance lessons to the sisters as a way to get them to try something new, Oliviya had hardly been all that interested. She may even have felt a bit insulted that her mother felt the need to address a concern that Oliviya herself did not share. She may have been twelve, but she wasn't an idiot.

Giving them 'new experiences' had seemed more of a ploy to end what Meredith deemed an unnatural closeness that she and Chloe shared.

A letter home from school had been more than enough to convince their mother that she and Chloe clung to each other a bit too tightly in social settings, and their teacher felt it got in the way of them making friends with the other children. And apparently the worst thing you can tell a new adoptive parent is that their kids aren't playing well with others. From the abject horror on her mother's face as she explained that no it wasn't okay to ignore her classmates because they were stupid or because they made fun of Oliviya's lingering accent, it was right up there with triple 6's on the back of her and Chloe's skulls. And while Oliviya could understand her mother's concern, she hadn't appreciated the underhanded tactic. Mostly because it threatened a bond that she'd fought very hard to maintain.

For all that Chloe was, and all the difference between them, they were sisters. Oliviya could no sooner point to where she began and her little sister ended then she could function without air. The blonde attached herself to every part of her that at times Oliviya felt she had no other purpose then to make Chloe smile, to assure the girl's happiness even at the expense of her own. It was a heavy feeling, but one she'd attributed to being older and therefore responsible for the younger girl.

It was almost as if she'd been adrift for the first half of her life, never making a connection with anyone despite striving to please everyone around her, like she'd been waiting––waiting for Chloe. Maybe her heart had known what her mind had not—that if she could survive the horrible nightmares of her reality, it would all be worth it.

And Chloe had been worth it, worth it and so much more. Had proven her worth every time she'd try to coax a laugh from the older girl when the shadows became too dark in her eyes, or when she would climb into her bed and hold her when her nightmares, memories, were too vivid. When she'd swear to her sister as they brushed their teeth side by side every morning and night that she would always be there to make Oliviya smile even if it apparently killed the brunette to do so.

And so when their mother had propositioned them with dance lessons at a local studio, Chloe had begged her sister, full puppy-dog pout and all to agree because she'd seen the Nutcracker production on TV and decided she wanted to twirl like a sugar-plum fairy, Oliviya had caved, all the while cursing those dewy blue-gray eyes. She was going to have to start blindfolding herself whenever the little imp asked her for something.

Oliviya loathed to admit it, but her mother's plan had worked all too well. Only an hour into their first lesson; Chloe and another little girl with raven hair where huddled together snickering at their instructors funny tights and long nose. Oliviya had felt more than a hint of jealousy at the easy camaraderie between the two, even more so when she learned the little girl with pretty oriental features would actually be one of their grammar school classmates that coming year.

"I'm Chloe, and this is my sister Olly," The blonde introduced brightly, grabbing her reluctant sisters hand and pulling her forward, ignoring her sister's tense form and the way her new friend had to crane her neck to see her sister. Oliviya was eleven, and had just started her growth spurt, towering over both girl's by nearly a foot. Something that had never bothered her before today.

"W-o-w..." The little girl's eyes widened comically as they traveled up the expanse of the girl's seemingly never ending frame, canting her head back when they met the older girl's glacial eyes "You're like...tall-enough-to-reach-the-cereal-boxes tall."

Oliviya glared, sniffing her nose as if the action would remove the girl from her sight. "More like tall enough to squash you like a bug tall."

"That too..." The girl offered meekly, her little shoulders hitching up as she shuffled her feet awkwardly.

"Olly! Be nice" Chloe scolded her sister, kicking her in the shin for good measure.

"Oww," Oliviya huffed out, hopping on her foot to alleviate the pain. Throwing her sister a wounded look when she dropped her hand and sidled up to the little fire starter who she'd yet to learn the name of. She glared heatedly at the pair before her, rubbing her aching shin. "You, Judas!"

"Huh?" Was the confused response of both. The reference seemed to fly over both of the girls heads as they turned towards each other with quizzical expressions, and Oliviya would have taken some pride in that if it hadn't made her feel that much more on the outside of this new budding friendship.

"Olly, I think you're reading too much." Chloe chided, shaking her head in deep concern. Oliviya huffed at the mere thought, outraged when the other little girl nodded her head vigorously in agreement.

Well. Oliviya thought heatedly, turning her back on the duo as she crossed her arms, giving her full attention to the instructors lecture on the fundamentals of discipline.

Discipline she had plenty of, patience for stupidity— she'd have to work on.

But even with her back to them, she could still hear the girls conversing behind her, and she tried not to show how much it bothered her that Chloe was beginning to reach out to someone else for friendship. Even so, Chloe could tell she'd hurt her sister's feelings from the older girls rigged posture.

"Sorry about my sister. She's usually not so mean..." Chloe whispered behind her hand, though if her sister's stiff shoulders were anything to go by, she'd most definitely heard her.

The other girl snorted cutely as she shifted her leotard from riding up. "That's okay, my daddies say pretty girl's usually are. And she's really pretty-" She stated as if that fact meant all the difference, "I'm Amy, by the way."

Chloe's eyes widened in trepidation as her sisters shoulders went lax, not sure how the girl would take the comment. But then she caught the smirk that had unfurled on her sisters face as she glanced back at them, waggling her brows mockingly as if to say—'Did you hear that, she called me pretty?'

Luckily for Amy, she'd seemed to find the one thing sure to combat her sisters irritation. Though Oliviya was hardly easy to win over, complimenting her always seemed to placate her enough into giving people second chances. After all, being praised by strangers your whole life would give anyone a complex. And unfortunately, Oliviya knew she was no exception. It was a product from her demented childhood.

Taking a few steps back so that she was in line with both girls, Oliviya threw an arm over both their shoulders, "Amy, I think we're going to get along just fine."

"Eyes front ladies!" The command was followed by a loud thwack that shook the younger girls enough to seek shelter behind Oliviya's taller frame.

Oliviya noticed that she seemed to be the only girl in the class immune to the gray-haired woman's harshness, meeting the woman's gaze head on. She figured it was because coming into a group of girls and being shouted at was hardly new territory for her.

The elder woman gave her a subtle nod as she spaced the girls one by one on the bar across the room, impressed with the eleven-year-olds calm demeanor.

In a few weeks time, when Chloe and Amy had both decided the instructor was too evil to be obeyed and ballet far too boring to keep up with, Oliviya would truly begin to flourish. It had been like coming up for air after a decade of drowning. And damn it all, but her mother could not have been more pleased when both her daughters came home happy, one with a new passion and the other a new friend.

And while she would have to get used to the idea of sharing her sister with Amy (and a nameless boy the two had met on the playground), Oliviya knew her sister would have to warm up to the idea of sharing her with the new ballet slippers she'd rushed out to get.

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AN: The start of the series is next so chapters will lengthen. Just laying the groundwork here…I know it's not an epic update but feel free to tell me what you think anyways. I gotta tell you, I love summer. Perfect time to rediscover your muse, ain't it? No beta so all mistakes are my own. R&R…it really does make this process go faster. Case in point, some random review PM'd my ass and shamed me good into working on this fic. Lol.