Ballet and Bad Boys

Lignes and Long Nights

A ligne, also known as a dancer's "line" is basically a dancer's outline while she executes dances and steps. Having a good ligne is really important in order to be a good dancer. Enjoy!

"God, he's heavy," I grunted as I gripped Zayden's waist tighter. He leaned on me a bit more, and I looked up at his face to see two already unfocused eyes slowly closing. "Oh no, you don't!"

"Sleep," was the only word Zayden managed to speak as he slumped against me more. I shoved him slightly, then snapped my fingers in front of his face, hoping to get rid of some of his grogginess.

"You're doing great!" Edward called in, what was supposed to be, an encouraging voice. "Just keep it up!"

I resisted the urge to show him a rather rude gesture, mostly because I would have to drop Zayden to do so. Why was I the one dragging Zayden through my yard, you might ask? Because Aspen was glaring at me unhelpfully from the car, and Chase was currently throwing up in the street while Edward patted his back and held back his bangs. Edward offered to help him instead, but choosing between someone who was too drunk to stand and someone who was projectile vomiting everywhere was a relatively easy decision.

"Okay, we're almost there," I told Zayden as we staggered up to my doorstep. I helped Zayden sit down on the stoop before rubbing my sore arms. Zayden was easily half a foot taller than me, and his lanky but strong build didn't seem to be proportionate to his weight at the moment. Probably because it was literally the middle of the night.

"Okay round two," I muttered and offered my hand to Zayden. He looked at it blankly before reluctantly giving me a high five and laying down onto the stoop. I rolled my eyes and flicked his shoulder to get his attention. "This is the part where give me your hand and let me pull you up."

Zayden muttered something and closed his eyes. I groaned angrily, and considered slapping him awake for a moment, before deciding it was a bad idea. I looked around, trying to find some inspiration, before my eyes hitched on to a garden hose. I rolled my eyes, grabbed the nozzle, and pulled on the handle.

Zayden cursed and sat up quickly, instinctively shielding himself from the spewing​ jet of water.

"What the hell?!" he sputtered, running his hands through his soaking wet hair. I gave him an innocent smile and dropped the hose.

"Come on, let's get you inside," I said, extending my hand to him once again.

He looked at it with speculation before reluctantly grabbing it. I braced myself to pull him up, but before I had the chance, Zayden suddenly pulled me towards him. I managed to catch myself on his arms before my face collided with his chest, and I looked up to find my face dangerously close to Zayden's. He smelled like booze and gasoline, but I could still faintly smell laundry detergent and a hint of peppermint. His eyes were slightly dazed, a side effect from the alcohol, probably, and his hair was impossibly messy. I looked into his eyes and the skin around them crinkled a bit as his gaze lowered to my lips. I took a deep breath, silently panicking. This was not happening

"Your hair is glowing," he muttered, his eyes still trained on my lips. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed my body to move away from him. I stood up and brushed off my shirt, acting like it wasn't a big deal that Zayden had almost kissed me.

Which it was, by the way.

"Get up," I declared, crossing my arms. "Are you going to let me help you this time?"

Zayden gave me a dopey smile that was a poor attempt at a smirk and held out his hand. "Yup, I'm all yours."

"Let's not make bad jokes," I muttered, grabbing his arm and putting it around my shoulders. He leaned against me and we hobbled through the threshold. I gripped his waist tighter as we reached the stairs, and I saw his grin get wider as he looked at my arm.