ATLAS -James Potter-

• Chapter XXVIII

The last time he had seen her was at dinner. She seemed normal there, as normal as a now half orphan could seem, smiling and talking alongside her dormmates. Now - her hair was tousled, the neat bun not longer even counting as a bun. Her face was kept stern, a slight grimace visible, underneath the layer of concentration, presumably coming from the red that sprinkled the pink pointed shoes. But she didn't seem to stop from the pain shooting up from her feet, turn after turn filling James vision. The last time he had seen her dance, her movements were more delicate, and despite her dislike filled with the slightest passion. Right then, the inner drill held its stern lead. The movements perfect, the expression unreadable.

Victoria Atikson lost her mother and there she was, dancing till her feet bled and would continue so till her body gave fully up.

The last time it was him having noticed her before she did with him. This time, their eyes clashed way sooner as hers were wide open, following her own movements in the wide mirror like a lion's eyes would follow a lamb.

For once, she didn't mind him. She minded that every pirouette seemed so imperfect, that her expression seemed so empty and the music feelt like screams of pain in her ear. Or maybe she was screaming herself from the immense pain she had endured now for longer than possible. Physical or mentally.

He could have stood there hour after hour - she wouldn't say anything. From what it looked like she would spend just as much trying to get it right - at least one time.

"Your feet are bleeding." Either it was the deja-vu or the state he witnessed her in, but James let obvious, and for that, stupid words fill the air between the both of them.She barely acknowledged his words, her movements even getting more powerful and fast. "Victoria your feet-" He moved forward, worry written boldly across his face. She just continued, her leg cutting through the air like lighting through the sky. The bottom half of the shoe was already tinted a scarlet red, leaving no space for the baby pink that it remained on the top, for now.

For a moment, his sorrow filled hazel eyes continued watching her, practically feeling the storm of thoughts in her mind. Because that what it was for her at that moment. A storm. Everything was a storm of her mothers' dead striking in like lightning, her brother whos tears fell in tempo barley endurable for human, her father who was like thunder itself then - it was a storm, and Victoria found herself not managing to rais from it.

And somehow, he felt that. He felt the thunder, the rain, the lightning. And it hurt him seeing her like that, because - he knew. Not just from her mother's death, news that seemed impossible to hide when you held her name, her brothers state, having seen the tears flow down his skin himself - but the tears that had missed flowing down her skin and right then, the pain that didn't miss to fill her eyes, even withouth her emotional inability.

He didn't know how to act then - no one knew. And sometimes that was okay because the girl had no clue herself.

"Victoria you need to-" Again, not even a muscle moving at his voice. "Victoria-"At the moment her leg wouldn't bam into him, he reached forward, his hands finding a place on her shoulder, and bringing the movements for once to halt.

The wide eyes of hers only half mustered a glare at first, to fast pulled out from the state she was then in. Overwhelmed by the contact of their eyes, James could barely do anything, yet alone do anything as she moved past his arms and started to walk slightly away, purposly bumbing shoulders with him. However as she laid weight on her left leg, and with that, her left foot, pain was quick to rais a little higher from its power, resulting in her almost falling, when not for strong hands to lay themselves on each side of her, holding her firmly in place.

"Let me go Pot-"

"You are hurt."

"And I am angry. ," she almost spat the words out, stepping back from his hands, glaring beastly at him. "Never again interrupt me." Well, there would be no sleep found now. Everything again - like she had tried it the last round, she could only stop at an even number, only when the song was through and only when it was perfect. Everything else didn't matter - she needed it done that way.