𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐯𝐞 | harry styles

prologue

PROLOGUE

Gracefully she moved, her doe eyes following a flawless figure in a long row of mirrors. A figure that never seemed to be her own.

It was like having someone copy everything you do, but this person in front of you was way better, although they were copying your every more. Her points shoes carried her effortlessly around the pristine studio - a truly magical sight to see. How she moved with such poise and grace, how she was like a doves feather in the wind. For a brief, fleeting moment she looked in the mirror and smiled as she danced away. But, it faltered nearly straight away when she left those bad thoughts invade her pretty little head. In the end, she stopped dead on the spot.

"Hey, why'd you stop?"

The girl who sat on the bench before her, pulled a confused face when her friend stopped dead in her tracks, coming down off pointe. She felt the relief in her feet when she did that, as they were aching. She cut the music, and the girl who was dancing not a few seconds before, sighed. "I think I've had enough practice for today Olivia..." she muttered to Olivia in a tired tone - feeling her headache coming on from having a bun in all day. "Besides, it's gone eleven, so I think she would close up the studio and head home if we're back tomorrow." She explained with a yawn.

Olivia gave her a 'oh, come on' look. "Evangeline, you can just say that you're tired, y'know."

Which she was, incredibly tired. Both of the girls were ballerina and practiced for 11 hours a day, 3 days a week. Sometimes it could be more than that, and it knocked the girls for six every time. Their feet aches, legs burned, heads hurt. They wanted sleep.

Evangeline laughed slightly, before stalking off and heading into the changing room where her bag was. A couple of seconds later, Olivia walked in with her cardigan wrapped around her, sitting down on the bench across from her friend. With a breath of relief, Evangeline removed her pointe shoes and the aching feeling diminished a little bit, but not completely. She gentle placed them in a fabric bag, then slipping that into her backpack. Then she pulled out her grey hoodie, and pulled it onto her small and petite body. And then the same with her trainers. That's when Olivia looked Evangeline's body up and down slowly.

"Just shorts, and no tights underneath? You have a death wish woman, it's cold out!" She gasped jokingly and Evangeline giggled. She was too lazy to change fully out of her ballet attire.

She then shrugged. "I'm not that bothered. Besides, my house isn't that far of a walk."

Olivia modded, and then stood up. Their ballet mistress, Nancy, had left to gone home. If the girls wanted to stay later to get some more training in if they really wanted to, as long as they locked up the studio behind them. So, that's exactly what the girls were doing at that very moment. As they passed light switches, they flicked them off and then locked the doors behind them. Until they were at the front door where they stepped out.

Cold air immediately nipped at their skin, and Olivia shivered as she locked the door to the dance school. Evangeline moved a baby hair away from her face, as she watched Olivia turn towards her. "My mom could give you a lift home, you know? I don't want you to walk back alone, especially when it's this late at night. You know what the streets can be like round here sometimes," she spoke in a soft tone. But, Eva shook her head with a gentle smile as she declined her friends offer. Although New York's nightlife was loud and sometimes dangerous, Evangeline found her walk short home oddly soothing and calming.

"I'm fine. Thank you for offering though. I'll see you tomorrow. Oh! And tell your little sister congrats on making it into the debate club. She'll do amazing!"

Olivia thanked Evangeline, and then the girls went their opposite ways.

Evangeline was then off, walking down the street on her own, the sounds of New York comforting her. The sounds pouring out of bars such as the loud live music and the sound of people singing along, or the sounds of people yelling at each other. Some people stumbled out of the bar, grabbing onto thin air with shaking hands and they desperately tried to find something to grab onto. To stable themselves. But it was no use. Mode of them ended up tumbling over.