Page 22 of All the Promises We Break

Viper ~

You won’t get this until your day is nearly over. My meeting, our meeting will be over. I just want you to know no matter the outcome. WE will be fine. You’ve given me life. All… I want… is you.

Always, Eli

My heart is pounding like I’ve been through a two-hour rehearsal. I feel warm in places I won’t admit to Hayley. Romance used to be an idea. Eli makes it real.

“Wow. I have all these thoughts about how my brother is and that right there just torched some. I can see he loves you but that shows me he does. I wouldn’t mind having something like it for myself.”

“He’s so special. Usually I freak out if someone tries to budget my time with work, school, and rehearsals. He took the time to get me a dedicated space to dance every single day until the audition, if I want it.”

“That’s incredible, but I’m not surprised. He wants everything for you. He believes in you more than he believes in himself. Your audition is midsummer, right?”

“I’m a little out of shape and a lot out of practice.”

“Dylan, he’d want you to get your cute butt over to that studio and get your swag back. You can’t control anything that’s going on at AnSa today. I’m not saying say fuck it, but I kind of am. I know I’m younger than you by six months but I’m ordering you to go.”

“Do you know how glad I am that I dumped my crap all over and you just happened to witness it?”

“What are sisters for? We help pick up the crap.”

Hayley walks me to the café to get a power smoothie then escorts me to my rehearsal studio. I have all these butterflies, or should I say elephants, roaming around inside. I need to get on that wood floor to work this out of my system. Eli booked me the studio I modeled my loft after.

He thinks of everything. The lights come up slowly once I open the door. They cast really cool shadows. The whole floor isn’t lit. The windows on both the wall along the door and the wall that overlooks the sidewalk are draped in velvet black curtains. I could open them, but the vibe sends a chill through me and that’s a good thing.

The docking station for my MP3 player is at the front of the room. There are six wireless speakers around the room, attached to the ceiling. I set up my classical warm-up playlist and it fills the room like an orchestra would. The pounding of the drums, the ache of the strings perfectly fit how I’m feeling. It makes it easy to get loose and able to express myself.

I could go the angsty route or angry tears, but the plushness of the curtains and the dark sensual paths of light that surround the room reflect a different kind of emotion. It gives me flashesof the night Eli and I met. The same kind of playlist one would use for sex is the one I want for dance right now.

I have a playlist in my library that even Eli hasn’t heard yet. I use it when I’m in this frustrated place on the dance floor, or more often, when I’m alone. Those times are less and less but I feel, right now, that mood is an old friend and we need to talk.

With the touch of a finger, I send the layered beat of sex echoing from every wall. For a number of measures, I let that music reflect off me. I point and step with my feet in and out of each pool of light. It feels like a slow strobe effect. I catch my image in the mirrors’ reflection. Sometimes it’s a full shadow, sometimes it’s an illuminated body part, and other times I can see into my soul.

I roll each ankle as I walk. As the feelings build, I roll my neck. Then, I shake out my hands like I’m casting the new emotions out into the room. I want the space to feel me, see me, become one with me. I find a spot on the ballet bar along the mirrors.

My hands wrap around the bar over and over again. I take hold tight until my knuckles turn white. I can feel the tension build in all my muscles. It’s time to move. The sultry sounds overtake me and without letting go of the bar, I contort my body to the left and then the right. My hip juts out opposite the way I’m leaning, and my hair wildly whips, slapping against my skin.

I bend all the way forward resting my cheek on my leg. My hand slides past my cheek and up my leg. I pretend it’s also Eli’s hand. It’s a dance of wishes. I wish we were past today. I wish he was fully healed. I wish for this to be easy.

My knees bend forward as I arch back. The ends of my hair touch the floor. On the next downbeat, I snap up straight. I flatten my hands against the mirror and rotate my hips. The squealing sound my hands make as they slide down the mirror back to the bar is like the end of a kiss.

I want to move more than I am. The music is calling me. I run a few steps and stop pulling to an arabesque and contorting at the drumbeat. I feel what Eli says is true. I make pictures. I never thought of it that way before. I’m starting to see what I look like through Eli’s eyes.

Each leap and roll on the floor is up and down. In the end, I’m crawling to him. He is the air, the water, the blood my heart needs. This dance began as a way to get my feelings out in the open. It’s now an outward expression of the woman I’m becoming with him. I love Dylan, but Viper is here too. She desires her muse.

“My God. You’re fucking incredible.”

Eli’s voice, deeper than usual, pierces even through the downbeats and electric guitars. I’m flushed and panting as I turn around to find him standing inside the closed door, looking ever the executive in the suit and tie I picked out for him today. The only thing even slightly out of place is a couple of extra finger spaces beneath the knot of his silk tie.

I match the husk in his voice. “You’re here.”

“I am. I needed to see you.”

“I needed to see you too.”

My dancing draws me to the hardwoods. This dance needs something of a different kind. My panting doesn’t slow as I cross the room. My steps get faster until I get about five feet from him and leap against his body. He catches me midair and wraps me in. Our lips do all the dancing for now.

The force of our impact lands us against the studio door. Eli’s hands are gripping and regripping my body. I reach through the space between his arm and his torso to lock the door. No one in. No one out. Not until this is settled.

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