Faetal Hearts

*Prologue*

Estella Wilson could feel her chest attempt to rise and fall within the tight constraints of her corset. Small hands clenched about her waist, as if she could settle the fluttering wings of butterflies within. Yet, to her dismay, the gesture did little to soothe her nerves.

“Breath Estella, you can do this. This is what you've been training for,” she muttered to herself, as if hearing the words would instill validity. Her hands were a flutter with energy, unlike the grace she soon must portray. Deft fingers and clammy palms avoided the abundance of swirling rhinestones and ran across the smooth feathery gossamer tulle of her skirt, noting how it extended away from her body.

She felt an arm wrap around her as she shuttered with a fit of nerves. A deep voice whispered reassurance within her ear. She felt her self settle within the embrace, turning her head to see who comforted her so, only to find no one. Her own arms wrapped about her small frame, disregarding the intricate swirls of glitter upon her skin, that seemed to transform her into an ethereal creature. She paid the smudged designs little attention, knowing the subtle difference would remain unnoticed. 

She could hear the low murmur of chatter vanish into silence, and her breathing hitched within her chest as the plush red, curtain rose in rippling waves. Immediately, she was overwhelmed by the brilliant, blinding white light. Her dark lashes fluttered to a rapid rhythm, matching her beating heart. Yet despite this, she remained perfectly still with hopes of portraying ‘gracefulness in stillness.’ They were the very words of her instructors, and now she too repeated them to herself, as if repetition could make it true. Estella felt anything but graceful; her shoes weight heavily and her limbs loose.

By mistake alone, her eyes focused on the crowd before her. So many eyes seemed to peer into her's, and she had the urge to shy away. She bit gently on her lip, nawing upon the rosy red surface as she attempting to imagine the audience in their underwear. Her faulty mechanism to handle the raging nerves failed her. All she could see was the public eye upon her, and her own demure grey eyes cast downwards in awkward embarrassment.

Yet, this was not what the audience perceived. Behind the seated crowd, a man remained cloaked in darkness. With an immodest gaze, he appraised the fair dancer. She was beautiful, there was no denying that. He longed to feel her soft translucent skin beneath his touch, her his fingers intertwined within the dark spirals of her hair, and her supple rosy lips beneath his own. Yes, his thoughts were far from pure and innocent as the girl surely was, but soon she would no longer be clothed in virgin white, the man mused.

There were many a beautiful girl, but upon a glance he knew this one was different. This girl, he would claim as his own, for he had seen the glint of silver within the swirling mist of her enchanting eyes. Within those eyes, he saw love, hope, and desire, all of which he would crush. Lips tilted upwards in a sinister grin; yes, he would enjoy crushing the fair girl's passion, taking her innocence, and destroying all that she held dear. The man nodded in approval at his new project. Yes, she would certainly do.

The man sighed with anticipation, his choice made, and knowing what would follow.

The music began, a soft tinkling melody. The melody circled within his head- an insipient reminder of something forgotten. Dismissing questions of where he heard the enchanting song and why it plagued his darkened soul, he returned his focus to the girl.

The song suited the girl, seeming to perfectly match her movements when in reality, he knew it was the other way around.  The music pitched as the she rose her arms above, gracefully extending upon her toes. She appeared to float across the stage, as her arms drifted in delicate, yet deliberate movements. Her back pitched, arching deeply, as her arms extended like an angel.

With a sharp lurch in the music, she raised upright and was a flutter in leaps and spins. As she turned, her eyes seemed to hold his own. He was mesmerized, enchanted by the bewitchingly beautiful girl who set his frozen heart a flutter.

Yet, all good things must come to an end, he sighed. The music had begun to slow, and with it the girl's enchanting dance. Much too soon, it was time.

Within the crevices of his mind, he imagined his falling angle. No sooner than he opened his eyes did he see her, suspended briefly within the air before falling gracefully. For an instance, he felt a flicker of doubt; had he done something wrong? But then the fair ballerina fell to the ebony floor in a heap, her skirt bunched around her, concealing her leg that extended at an unnatural angle.

A brief flicker of sorrow was immediately replaced with humor. Her eyes burned with silvery tears as she glanced about blindly. The effect only made her more beautiful- so delicate, and innocent, with widened, glistening eyes ablaze with tears of sorrow and anguish. Her hands pressed uselessly against the floor, cool against her skin, as she attempted to raise herself upright. Lips parted as she cried in pain, her body fell motionless against the stage and eyes fluttered shut to the world.

Author's Note: So what do you think so far? I am very new to writing but this story is very different from the ideas I typically consider. I really hope that you like it! Thanks!