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Yuri leaned against the wall, looking into the studio window. His eyes were on Constance as she mirrored the ballet instructor while holding onto the bar, going through the different positions. He got to the dance studio since he finished his work a little early. The group had decided to splurge a little on dinner and go out to eat. A carpool saved more time and Constance was usually finished with her daily routine first. And Yuri was the only one out of the four with a car.
The one time he loses a bet and this happens. Constance, sadistic yet fair, told him to help out with behind the scenes work after someone fell and ended up with a broken arm, leaving the crew scrambling. It wasn’t the worst punishment in the world. He didn’t mind the act of dancing itself. It was fun in the right setting. Would he ever dance in front of thousands of people for their entertainment like his friend was preparing to do? Hell would have to freeze over first. But he had to admit she was good at it. He’d never actually watched her practice before. But when he looked back through the window, he noticed she had stopped and was currently speaking to someone. Their back was turned, so he could only see teal hair tied up in a ponytail.
But when the two had finished, walking different directions with their heads turned to the side, he couldn’t resist taking it all in. Her sky blue eyes were striking, her figure petite but strong. And that chest. Anyone could see how voluptuous it was. In fact, it made him wonder if that hindered her during dancing. She must’ve had good balance if it didn’t bother her. He nearly choked on air when he walked her stretch, lifting her leg so her foot touched her ear. Hot damn. Fucking hell, he felt like a horny teenager again.
“Yuri!” He casually tilted his head to the side when he heard Constance yell his name. She was standing a little closer than her anticipated, her hands on her hips while impatiently tapping her foot. “I have been trying to get your attention for the past three minutes! It would do you well to keep your ears open!”
“Who were you just talking to?” he asked, completely ignoring her unnecessary berating.
“Oh.” That took her attention away and her eyes trailed to the window where the woman was in clear view. “That’s Byleth Eisner. She’s been here for quite some time. And even I must admit that her skills are almost unmatched! But one day I will definitely surpass those heights and have the Nuvelle name known throughout the country!” Oh goddess, not that again. Thankfully, she didn’t linger on the subject for long. “I think I remember hearing that her mother was part of the troupe before she had to retire early because of a heart condition. I am not one to pry too deep in such personal affairs, but it would appear that the woman was highly revered. I am certainly not surprised to hear her daughter received the lead in our next performance.”
“Ah.” That’s all he really could say, still gazing at her as she did her own thing, bending and twirling in a bunch of moves he no doubt couldn’t name or pronounce.
Unfortunately, that gave his friend enough of an opening as she slyly grinned once finding the object of his attention. “Ah, I see now! To think someone as convoluted as you could be so smitten upon first glance!”
He suppressed a groan as best he could, forcing his lavender eyes to look just about anywhere else. He stood up, stuffing his hands into his light denim jacket. “Let’s go, Constance.”
He began walking away, leaving a stunned Constance in his wake. But her soon heard heels clicking rapidly against the tile floor to catch up with her. Though looking a little out of breath, she did her best to appear composed. “I was about to suggest that it might be advantageous to join in one of the classes to, how do I put it, admire her a little closer~?”
“You know I don’t dance for people, Shady Lady,” he argued, adding the despised nickname in for good measure.
“And I am not suggesting that you do,” she shot back, undeterred. “I could convince the instructor that you are simply a guest for the day. I am not suggesting you stand up on stage for a grand performance. I am not so crass as to force that upon you.”
He glanced back at the dance studio once they were outside, narrowly avoiding Constance opening her parasol to give her some shade from the sun that was slowly going down. “I’ll think about it.”
And think he did. Despite his friends pestering him once Constance blabbed to them. Even though Constance didn’t have class on Wednesdays, Yuri was at the studio. To observe. He looked through the window, seeing Byleth practice moving on the tips of her toes. It never failed to astonish him. It really was an impressive feat to find balance with just a small area like your toes to work with.
The instructor said something that he couldn’t hear to Byleth, making all the other dancers stand against the bar and clear the floor. Byleth stood in the middle and nodded to the instructors. Call him sappy, but he was completely entranced when she moved. She moved around the room so elegantly and fluidly, not once stumbling or hesitating. No wonder she got the lead. Her feet lifted higher than he thought humanly possible, like she was waltzing on air. She jumped with such precision and landed without so much as a flinch. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, moreso because her movement demanded one’s attention and not the fact her practice clothes fit snug against her curvy body. Nope. Not at all.
She finished with a small bow of her head to her peers, her expression stoic as she walked off the floor and over to the side. Everyone was clapping. Even he had the urge to, not like she would see or hear him though. So he kept to himself. What was he even doing? All he could do was stand and watch as practice ended, the men and women gathering their bags and moving to their respective side rooms to change back into regular clothes. He didn’t know why he walked into the emptied studio, taking off his shoes to not scuff the floor. Now that he was alone, he decided to give it a little try. His mom was a fan of ballet, sometimes watching the commercials for live performances on the old box tv when he was younger. Just seeing a snippet of the shows brought her so much joy.
Yuri tried his hand at keeping balance on his toes. He held onto the bar, taking a deep breath as he shuffled his feet. It wasn’t easy without the attire the performers wore during practice, but he still gave it a try. First position. Second position. Third position. Fourth position. He kept going through the movement, copying what he remembered from watching earlier. And a few things he remembered when trying to learn ballet to make his mom smile since she couldn’t go to the grand performances like Crimson Bloom or The Winter King.
“Your feet need to move the other direction,” a voice suddenly echoed through the room, making him shift quickly back to a standing position and look to the door.
As if the day couldn’t get any worse, the very woman he watched perform stood in the doorway.
“Your right foot goes up front,” she explained in a gentle yet straightforward voice, “not your left.” She kind of sounded like a good instructor.
“I wasn’t really doing much, but thanks for the tips,” Yuri said with a slight grin.
Instead of just shrugging it off and leaving, she stepped closer to place her hands on his shoulders. He was ready to make a snide remark about her trying to flirt but she didn’t give him the chance. “Relax your shoulders too,” she instructed clearly. “It helps you keep your balance when you’re not tense.”
“So the master is bestowing her tricks of the trade unto me?” Yuri finally quipped, a smirk just shy on his face.
This time, Byleth did shrug. “I wouldn’t call myself that.” She stared up at him, making him notice how she was just a few inches shy of his height. It was kind of adorable. “You’re really good.”
The man laughed, running his fingers through his lilac tresses. “I should be telling you that, friend. I saw one of your demonstrations not too long ago.” Okay, so he was lying. He didn’t want to seem desperate. But he had a silver tongue to thank for his words coming out so smoothly.
“Is it okay if I ask you to dance with me for a bit?” she asked, blinking up at him with her pretty doe eyes with her long lashes brushing against her cheeks. “I have to dance with a partner in the show for one set.”
She was incredibly straightforward. And he honestly couldn’t tell if this was flirting or just brutal honesty. “Hate to disappoint, but I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion.” He gestured to his simple ensemble of a t-shirt and black pants.
“I think there are some spare clothes for someone of your build. And the shoes aren’t a problem.”
There was no way out of it, and they weren’t performing for anybody. So in the midst of his boyish crush on her, he agreed. But only one dance, he insisted. He may have been graceful in many aspects, but ballet was an art that definitely needed practice to achieve well. He tugged at the fitted white shirt she lent him, fidgeting his feet to keep the ballet slippers snugly on.
“Do you know about Underground Throne?” Byleth asked, pulling her hair back up into a ponytail.
“Vaguely,” he answered.
He knew little about it. Only that it was a ballet about the Goddess who came down to earth in human form and ended up meeting another god’s reincarnation who was forced to live in the shadows because of his bloodline. He thought it was some kind of romance story between light and dark or something poetic like that. He believed they fell for each other at some point, but he remembered the ending a lot more clearly; the Goddess bestowed some of her holy light unto the man before she died in his arms, guaranteeing him a place in the heavens once he completed the dream they grew to share. It was supposed to be a beautiful tragedy, but a little more realistic than that one performance about two people who fell in love on day one and then killed themselves not even a week later. Pushovers.
“I need to practice the tower scene a little more. Is that okay?”
Okay, now that scene he knew. He mentally thanked Constance for showing him footage of that on her phone, gushing about her desire for the lead role of the goddess. But apparently, Byleth now had that role. The tower scene wasn’t too tricky going by what he saw. The goddess and the man met upon a tower in secret. The dance was supposed to represent them having a conversation with anger and sadness and then finally love.
“Good thing I remember that scene better than the rest,” he easily said, standing in position. “Let’s get started, friend.”
She nodded, a soft smile just barely noticeable on her lips. She took a few steps back from him, lifting her feet. Her phone, pulled into a tiny speaker, began to play the scene’s iconic piece. She stretched out her legs, striding toward him on her toes. Her hand reached out, like she was holding it for him to take. He slowly lifted his own hand out to her. Seeming hesitant. Their fingers brushed before he moved back. He remembered the male lead was supposed to show resistance.
But the goddess role persisted, moving closer to him. Her hand cupped his cheek, sending sparks through his skin. He froze for a moment under her touch, but he managed to keep himself together. What the hell was she doing to him? Or rather, he knew but was kind of scared to give it the proper name.
They moved together in harmony, dancing forward and back, as if they were fighting. But instead of words, they used their movements. When she pulled him close, he pushed her back. And vice versa. She spun around him in a pirouette, one of the few moves he actually knew the name of. He reached out but never touched her. She stepped away, moving into an arabesque, to reach out her hand to him one more time. He didn’t take it. She lowered her leg, pausing. Then she tried to move. His hand shot out and grabbed her, lightly so he wouldn’t hurt her. He tugged her forward into his arms. His leg was between hers as he moved her into a low dip with his arm firmly around her waist, her arms outstretched toward the floor. He slowly moved her upward, lifting her in the air. She stretched her legs in a split while he spun her in a quick circle and placed her back down. This time, they danced in harmony. The part of the dance where the lovers spoke of their passion for their dreams and one another.
Though her face was stoic, he could see it. So close to her, he could see her expressing herself through her beautiful blue eyes. His blood was hot in his veins. He never felt this alive before.
Yuri moved with Byleth back to their original position, his hand moving to the back of her neck while they held onto each other. The song in the background was slowly fading, indicating the end. Neither of them moved, just staring at each other. He honestly didn’t know what possessed him in the moment, maybe the adrenaline, but he lowered his head and kissed her. Almost immediately, Byleth responded in kind, her arms locking around his neck to pull him closer and her fingers bunching up the fabric of his borrowed shirt.
A few seconds passed before the two had to pull apart, gasping for air. A chuckle escaped his throat, using his hand to brush back a lock of her teal hair. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide. She really was too cute for her own good.
“Well, I definitely didn’t expect that,” he said, lowering his voice while leaning in close to her ear. “Can’t say I don’t like it, though.”