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It goes unnoticed at first, because she is always with Steven. Always in his shadow, always right behind him. For his own protection and her own comfort. So the first few times Pearl senses her, she lets it go.
Apparently Lapis takes that as a free pass.
Sometimes, she will sit under the falls, encasing herself in the water. Sometimes, she will sit on top of the falls, staring at her own reflection in the water. She never looks at Pearl. She never speaks to Pearl. And Pearl does the same.
“I don’t understand,” says Lapis. One day when Pearl is polishing off an old relic, Lapis comes up from beneath the water. She sits. She doesn’t look at Pearl, but expects her to reply. “Why did he save her?”
Ah, yes. After Malachite unfused, Steven had bubbled Jasper’s damaged gem. “She’s not a threat anymore,” he insisted. “The least we can do is let her rest. We’ll deal with her when she’s ready to face us.”
“Because that’s who he is,” Pearl sighs. “If your places had been reversed, he would have done the same for you.”
“After all I did for him… “ Lapis trails off. Her hands curl into fists. The water beneath them trembles. “I just don’t understand.”
“I don’t understand it, either.” Pearl doesn’t. Even when Rose did these things, she couldn’t help being wary.
She is aware of Lapis’s stare on her for several minutes after that before she drags herself back into the water with another long groan. Beneath the water, Pearl can see her. Curled up, clutching at herself, trying to hold everything in. Trying to stay together.
A week passes before Lapis speaks to her again. She has been sitting next to Pearl for the past hour. Not looking at her, of course, but looking at the book in her hands. She pretends to follow along; Pearl knows she can’t read.
In light of this, she turns to the beginning of the book and reads it aloud. They don’t look at each other, and they’re not really talking to each other, but it’s as close to a real conversation as they can get. It lasts for hours, Pearl illustrating nonsense tales, until Lapis retreats. This time, she simply sits under the falls, suspended in the water.
A month passes. At first, Pearl doesn’t notice her. It’s embarrassing when she’s caught, because she’s been dancing, gliding across the water, for a long time, and no one ever cares enough to watch. But Lapis does.
“You can really dance,” Lapis says. Pearl is startled from her daydream and this time, when Lapis speaks, she has the nerve to look at her. “Is it practice? For fusion?” The way her lip curls at the word makes Pearl shiver.
“No. I just enjoy dancing.”
Lapis is thoughtful. She adjusts her position, crossing her arms over her knees. “I enjoy watching.”
Pearl doesn’t know what to make of it. But the way Lapis’s eyes light up, even if it’s just a bit, makes her want to dance again. She picks up where she left off, all too conscious of Lapis’s gaze. She doesn’t leave this time.
Six months pass. Lapis hasn’t let go of Steven, but she has someone else to attach to. She’s in Pearl’s room quite often. She says it’s because the water calms her, but they both know otherwise. They talk to each other, they look at each other (even when they think the other isn’t looking).
When Pearl dances, she dances for Lapis. She has yet to dance with Lapis. She doesn’t want to rush it, she knows her wounds are fresh, and she doesn’t want to pull them open again. She dances and dances and dances and finally, she gets Lapis to crack a smile.
“You almost make me not hate dancing,” she says. “You make it seem wonderful.”
Pearl has a scary thought: she thinks Lapis is wonderful.
“It is,” she says. She swallows her feelings. She’s good at it. “It’s not as bad as…” As it was with Jasper. It’s nothing like that. And fusion, fusion is much different than Lapis thinks it is. But Pearl doesn’t say this, because these things aren’t meant to be said.
Lapis stares at Pearl. Perhaps she read her mind, because the next words seem to complete Pearl’s own thoughts. “Okay,” she says. “Show me.”
Pearl is taken aback. “What?”
“Dance with me. Show me how wonderful this is. Convince me.”
Lapis walks over to Pearl. Her hands hang in the air, waiting for Pearl. They tremble, just slightly, but the tremors cease when their fingers intertwine. Instinctively, Lapis’s other arm goes over Pearl’s shoulder. She squirms as Pearl’s hand rests on her back, right below her gem. “I’m ticklish,” she says. And of course, she must be nervous. She has to be gentle, be careful.
“We’ll take it slow,” Pearl says. And they do.
One step, two steps. Pearl leads. Lapis looks at their feet, first, and then at Pearl. They don’t take their eyes off each other. They dance, seamless and graceful. The gap between them lessens, and suddenly Lapis is close enough to make Pearl bite back a gasp.
Lapis absently toys Pearl’s hair, curling her fingers in the soft locks. Their dance slows. Pearl’s head bows slightly. Lapis leans toward her. She rests her forehead against Pearl’s gem. They stop dancing. They’re just holding each other now. Lapis squeezes Pearl’s hand, gentle and unsure.
Then she pulls back. She looks away from Pearl. “I- I have to go.”
She doesn’t have to go anywhere. “Please, it’s okay. It’s okay.”
Pearl watches her, just for a second, and catches the ghost of a smile. She is brimming with nervous energy. “You… you’re wonderful, at dancing.”
“You aren’t so bad yourself.” Pearl gives her a small smile.
Lapis stands there for a minute or two, silent and unsure. “Um, I’m not as good as you. Yet. I would… like to keep dancing with you. You know. For practice.” Her stilted sentences are, in some awkward way, charming to Pearl. At least she isn’t the only one who’s nervous.
“Yes,” she says. “let’s practice.”
They take it slow, again. They’re not so graceful this time, and Pearl can feel her shaking. She says, “We don’t have to dance” but Lapis insists otherwise.
When they speed up, they step on each other’s feet and bump heads. It’s awkward, now, and Pearl hates it. But after Lapis trips over Pearl’s foot for the umpteenth time, and is pressed embarrassingly close against her, she starts to laugh.
“I’m sorry,” Lapis apologizes. But she can’t stop laughing. It’s infectious, and soon, Pearl starts to laugh as well. She covers her mouth, trying to stifle a giggle. The grace from their last dance was something wonderful, though Pearl thinks this feels more natural, more normal.
Pearl grins. “Where did all this come from?”
“I’m just nervous. Sorry. I… I think I’m all danced out.” Lapis doesn’t move away. She curls up against her, pressing her head into the crook of Pearl’s neck. She stiffens, unsure of what to do.
“Is this okay?”
They’re swaying, just slightly. This counts as dancing. Right?
“Yes,” Pearl says. Her arms curl around Lapis’s waist.
They stand there a while. Neither is sure how long, time isn’t a consequence they’re worried about.
“Are you sure-” Lapis starts, but Pearl cuts her off by tightening her hold. She isn’t sure who this benefits more. She can feel Lapis sag in her arms. She puts up a strong front, and Pearl is surprised that she’s let her guard down enough for this.
Lapis forces her head up. Their eyes lock. It’s like a mirror. Pearl can see thousands of years of pain and anger built up, and it ignites such a strange feeling. She feels ashamed, she feels remorse… she feels the overwhelming urge to make things right. But how does she even start?
“Sorry.” Lapis mutters.
“There’s no need to apologize,” Pearl insists. She should never have to apologize. “I should be the one saying sorry.”
They’re quite again. They’re holding each other again. They sway just a little. Such a strange pattern of events between them. Lapis presses their foreheads together once more, and Pearl closes her eyes.
Pearl isn’t sure how this is supposed to work. But she enjoys staying like this. Drifting slowly together, holding each other, closer than close. They don’t have to think about anything but each other. They don’t have to think of any tortured past memories or painful sacrifices.
They stop their swaying; they’ve finally grounded each other.