Wildest Dreams (h.s. au)

eight

My nerves are so high as I wait in the dressing room, my hair being styled and my shirt being fitted onto my body. Madame explained that seeing Marie would lessen my need to dace, but I refused. I was running down the hall to her room and talking to her through her door, wanting to hold her. She tells me I'll do fine and I try opening the door but it's locked.

"Harry, sit still," the woman says, her fingers running over my hair.

"His face is looking a bit pale," another one says, pushing a brush onto my cheeks.

"It's winter and it's cold," I complain, not exactly liking the idea of make-up on my face.

"But you look fantastic," she says, my body standing up. At least I'm not wearing tights.

"Here you go, show time," Madame claps, my feet walking to the stage. The place is dark and I step on, a small hand felt on my back.

Lights move on and the music plays, my body turning to hold onto Marie. My eyes look at her quickly, her body in a light pink gown that flows with her body with every move. We follow our steps and she looks in my eyes the entire time, my arms keeping her close. Every move is effortless for us; her instructions to me to be protective.

"Spin," I whisper, her body flowing away from me as I spin her into my body. Our bodies move together and I barely even realize we're in a show. All my focus is on her and her hands stay on me; the passion, as she describes, is perfect. Marie takes my nerves away.

Our lifts are excellent and she leads me at some parts, my hands holding her close. Our last few moves go, my hands lifting her and setting her on my body. We move slowly as the song ends and her hands grab my face. The lights go out and applause starts, my arms wrapping around her and my lips kiss her cheek.

"Perfect," she whispers, my lips curving. We walk off stage and Marie is taken from me, her need for dances taking her. After the show, I put my black tee over my head and jeans on my legs, walking down to the store quickly. I buy flowers and rush back to the theater, knocking on Marie's door. After waiting a few seconds, she opens the door and I smile. Handing her the flowers, she smiles up at me and wraps her arms around my neck.

"You were great tonight," I smile, her lips pressing to my cheek.

"So were you," she grins, pulling me into the dressing room.

She looks upset about something and I walk behind her, placing my hand on her back. I rub over her shirt lightly and she sighs, wrapping her arms around me.

"Harry, I have to talk to you," she says, my hand brushing her hair behind her ear.

"What's up?" I ask, my body taking a seat on her couch. She retrieves something, a huge envelope, from her vanity. She sits beside me and takes something out of the envelope, my eyes looking at her.

"A scout, I guess you could say...came and observed the show. She talked to me after the show...and offered me a scholarship to continue my dance at The Paris Opera Ballet School. It's prestige and at the top of the charts," she says, my fingers flipping through the pamphlet. France?

"It wouldn't start until after this year, but this opportunity is insane. My only problem is...leaving you," she whispers, grabbing my hand.

Looking through the pages, I know from just looking at it that it's only for the best. The fact that she's torn leaving me here is so special to me, but at the same time, this is her dream. I'm not going to stop it.

"You have to go," I say, her eyelashes fluttering as she looks over the papers.

"But we-" I cut her off.