Categories > Original > Drama
Mary was everything the dance world could ever desire.
The feet, the body, the technique, the devotion. She had it all.
The slim brunette pulled off her pointe shoes and stared down at her bloodied feet in a disturbed fascination as her mind quickly came to the conclusion she had long been searching for.
She didn't have the heart.
Ignoring the ache of her broken feet, the hazel eyed ballerina walked to the bathroom and stuck one foot into the sink. She rinsed the blood and grime away and wrapped her foot in numerous bandages before starting on the other. She vaguely registered the artistic director suggesting the dancers go home and get a full nights rest so they could perform their best at their last dress rehearsal the next day.
Fitting the last bandage onto her foot, Mary took her foot out of the sink and left the bathroom. The dance floor was almost completely empty; the remaining dancers grabbed their bags and left, leaving Mary to herself. She walked to the center of the dance floor and stared at herself in the mirror; she held her own gaze for a few short moments and looked away.
When was the last time she really saw herself?
The beautiful woman gave a choked sob and crumbled to the floor. She curled into a ball and shivered. The room was still warm from their ardent dancing, but the chill that had settled into her bones was from the cold feeling that had filled her heart. She was so enraptured in her misery that she did not hear the heavy footsteps of one of the less popular male dancers enter the studio.
The latin man took one look at the prima ballerina and no longer saw the pristine figure that had performed ballets beyond his grasp. He saw her as she truly was. A woman who had lost all that had driven her, a hollow shell which was wired a certain way that had no meaning any more. His heart melted as he stared at the broken woman. He made up his mind and in several steps, he was by her side and pulled her into his arms after dropping to his knees.
Her sobs gave way to gasps as she struggled not to hyperventilate. His right hand snuck up into her head, cradling the back of her head as one would a baby while the other pulled her close to his chest, to bring her his own warmth. He laid her head in the crook of his neck and rocked her, giving her the comfort that she had lost.
His large figure was utterly dominate in Mary's mind; his scent reminding her so much of the man that she had lost. With one last breath, she gave up her struggle and let her body rest. He held her silently for a few moments and then lifted her head so she could see his eyes. He didn't speak, he didn't need to; his eyes told her everything she ever needed to know.
She opened her mouth to speak, but found the words caught in her throat as he gently kissed her. That one moment seemed to last eternity to both. Mary remembered her love and the way he had held her captive unknowingly. And her latin companion shared a treasure with her that he had kept tightly held away; his compassion.
When he finally released her, Mary's eyes were closed and she was resting on her knees. The large man stood beside her for one more minute, and then left the room having found what he was unknowingly searching for. When the hazel eyed ballerina opened her eyes, she saw a faded figure in the corner of the mirror. The man she had fallen in love with so long ago was standing there, giving a last wave before fading away forever.
Mary looked into the mirror again, searching her eyes one last time. What she discovered kept her dancing for many more years.
OoOoOoOoOoOo
(A/N) What she discovered is up to each person individually to decide. I speak from experience when I wrote this story, and I hope that you as the reader find something important from it. What you discover may be an absolute different from mine, but it's still something to be treasured. -May
The feet, the body, the technique, the devotion. She had it all.
The slim brunette pulled off her pointe shoes and stared down at her bloodied feet in a disturbed fascination as her mind quickly came to the conclusion she had long been searching for.
She didn't have the heart.
Ignoring the ache of her broken feet, the hazel eyed ballerina walked to the bathroom and stuck one foot into the sink. She rinsed the blood and grime away and wrapped her foot in numerous bandages before starting on the other. She vaguely registered the artistic director suggesting the dancers go home and get a full nights rest so they could perform their best at their last dress rehearsal the next day.
Fitting the last bandage onto her foot, Mary took her foot out of the sink and left the bathroom. The dance floor was almost completely empty; the remaining dancers grabbed their bags and left, leaving Mary to herself. She walked to the center of the dance floor and stared at herself in the mirror; she held her own gaze for a few short moments and looked away.
When was the last time she really saw herself?
The beautiful woman gave a choked sob and crumbled to the floor. She curled into a ball and shivered. The room was still warm from their ardent dancing, but the chill that had settled into her bones was from the cold feeling that had filled her heart. She was so enraptured in her misery that she did not hear the heavy footsteps of one of the less popular male dancers enter the studio.
The latin man took one look at the prima ballerina and no longer saw the pristine figure that had performed ballets beyond his grasp. He saw her as she truly was. A woman who had lost all that had driven her, a hollow shell which was wired a certain way that had no meaning any more. His heart melted as he stared at the broken woman. He made up his mind and in several steps, he was by her side and pulled her into his arms after dropping to his knees.
Her sobs gave way to gasps as she struggled not to hyperventilate. His right hand snuck up into her head, cradling the back of her head as one would a baby while the other pulled her close to his chest, to bring her his own warmth. He laid her head in the crook of his neck and rocked her, giving her the comfort that she had lost.
His large figure was utterly dominate in Mary's mind; his scent reminding her so much of the man that she had lost. With one last breath, she gave up her struggle and let her body rest. He held her silently for a few moments and then lifted her head so she could see his eyes. He didn't speak, he didn't need to; his eyes told her everything she ever needed to know.
She opened her mouth to speak, but found the words caught in her throat as he gently kissed her. That one moment seemed to last eternity to both. Mary remembered her love and the way he had held her captive unknowingly. And her latin companion shared a treasure with her that he had kept tightly held away; his compassion.
When he finally released her, Mary's eyes were closed and she was resting on her knees. The large man stood beside her for one more minute, and then left the room having found what he was unknowingly searching for. When the hazel eyed ballerina opened her eyes, she saw a faded figure in the corner of the mirror. The man she had fallen in love with so long ago was standing there, giving a last wave before fading away forever.
Mary looked into the mirror again, searching her eyes one last time. What she discovered kept her dancing for many more years.
OoOoOoOoOoOo
(A/N) What she discovered is up to each person individually to decide. I speak from experience when I wrote this story, and I hope that you as the reader find something important from it. What you discover may be an absolute different from mine, but it's still something to be treasured. -May
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