Page 59 of A Dark Duet

“Hmm. Always so good,” he says, closing his eyes and savoring the taste. I grab his hand, entwining my fingers in his, and lead him toward the bed.

Nate

Iwake up to the same nagging pain I feel every morning after a fight. Giselle is there with a glass of water, pain meds in hand. She must have felt me stir and figured my body would feel like shit.

“Good morning. Does it… does it hurt like this every time?”

“Yeah, depends on… if I want to take the pain or not. What I mean is, if I let them hit me. I need the pain to feel alive. Sometimes, I feed off it, so I won’t feel bad about basically ending their career. Hence, why I got named ‘The Reaper.’”

“So, this is the price you pay.” She looks at my cuts and bruises softly.

“I’m used to this. I’ve told you. It’s all I know.”

“I can understand. Ballet and dance are all I know. It’s all I’ve ever done.”

She pauses as I sit up in the bed, swinging my legs out, the pain not as bad.

“Do you need help to get to the bathroom?”

“I’m good, doesn’t really hurt. Thank you for bringing me water and my meds.”

She sees me moving the sheets so I can stand, then she kneels in front of me on the side of the bed so she can move my slides. She looks up slowly, on her knees, into my eyes and I can’t help myself. I’m in love with her.

If she only knew how much I love her. I didn’t know if I could ever feel love and it’s only for her that I feel this way. I can’t be without her. I need her.

I desperately hope she feels the same, at least enough for her to stay. She stands and I bring her close so I can lay my head on her flat stomach to breathe her in and the sweet feminine smell of her perfume. I look up and she smiles down at me.

“I love you,” I tell her softly.

She stays silent, staring at me with her beautiful mouth slightly open, and steps back as I get up. I walk to the bathroom, feeling her stare on my back as I close the door. I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

I close my eyes, not used to the feeling of loving someone with the fear of losing them. When she was on the ledge about to jump off, I felt fear. The gut-wrenching fear of darkness that I couldn’t come back from if I lost her because if I felt fear, I knew that I loved her.

When she turned and came back to me, I looked into her eyes, seeing the demons inside looking for darkness. Darkness I could provide so that she could dance in the light.

Giselle

Istare at the closed door, stunned at his last words. Words I’ve longed to hear from his lips. I know I should have told him how I felt. If he only knew I love him, I dance for him, and I always want to be with him, always. It’s too late though. I know if I walk in there, he will retreat inside himself. I will give him time to process his feelings and show my love for him, even if I’m my lost in the darkness, he’s there with me, waiting.

I open the closet door inside the dressing room for the first time. Once inside, I glance at all the rows of his designer clothes. I walk farther, and to the right, I see all the dance outfits he’s laid out for me every morning since I came back.

The Chanel dress, lingerie, shoes, every item carefully placed. I run my fingers through the fine silk, tracing the delicate patterns of dresses I could never afford.

On the center island lies a white letter-sized envelope with my name. I curiously look over, grab the envelope, and open it. I scan the document that reveals the dance studio purchased in my name from Lenora.

My eyes fill with unshed tears of happiness that I finally have the dream of my dance studio. Nate has given me everything I have ever wanted, especially his love. I would trade it all just to have his love. I quickly place the papers back into the envelope, place it exactly as it was, and quickly dress in designer black joggers with a white crop top.

I’m in the kitchen making scrambled eggs and pancakes I found in the fully stocked kitchen when Nate appears. He smiles with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t know you could cook?”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” I say playfully.

“I know all the important stuff,” he says.

I giggle. “I grew up on a farm and if you wanted to eat, you needed to learn how to cook. My mom and dad taught me a lot since I was homeschooled. My mom cooked every day, but one day I watched and really learned.”

“They must have been amazing.”

“Yeah, they were,” I say sadly.

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