Chapter Text
Giselle
Eris hated the Ballet.
He hated it so much, that he bought front row tickets. At least that way his critism would be honest. Brutal, maybe a bit irrational, but also honest. And no one could argue with that.
"This will be a wonderful performance", his mother said next to him. "I heard the new ballerina is quite unique. Don´t you think it will be wonderful?"
He hummed in agreement. For her Ballet was beauty. Stories told in movement and rhythm. She could rant about the grace of dancers for hours.
Once Eris had done the same.
His father hadn`t liked it. And what his father didn`t like he would not tolerate.
"At least it will not be as sappy as the last one", his brother Cyrus said, leaning over his mother to wink at Eris.. He had the same red hair as Eris and their mother. A trate she had given all her children. But Cyrus wore it long, while Eris at least tried to keep his curls tidy.
"Hush you", his mother swatted at her son. "Sleeping beauty is one of the most perfect, romantic,…"
"flowery", Eris added.
Cyrus laughed.
His mother did not. She just looked at him. "When have you become so cynical?"
When indeed?
Eris grinned at her and leaned closer. "I´m sorry. I am sure Giselle will be more interesting."
The spark of excitement returned to his mother. "It will. She turns mad at the end and dies. So tragic."
Cyrus raised his eyebrows. He never read the stories before.
Eris did. He read them all. And he memoriesed them to see if the dancers did them justice.
They never did.
Before his brother could ask another silly question, the lights dimmed.
And Eris leaned back to pass Judgment.
That was until she appeared.
Giselle.
His mother was right. Ballet was beautiful.
She held her gaze steady. Her grey eyes piercing the entire audience at once. One heart beat the world stopped turning. Then it started again.
His heart beat in the rhythms of her Pirouttes. He forgot who he was and why he was here.
All that matteres was Giselle. And her small body that danced passionatly the story of love.
A love so powerful that it would turn her mad.
His Giselle should not turn mad. He wanted to safe her.
But how could he safe her? He had to also keep watching her dancing. And both at the same time seemed impossible.
Then she was gone. Someone else had a Solo and Eris fell back into reality.
"She is extraordinary", his mother whispered next to him.
He just shrugged. "A bit small."
But his mother knew him better. Eris hated that. Nothing could get passed her.
"I need the Loo", Cyrus whispered.
Luckily for him there was a break. And while his brother ran to the restrooms, Eris took his mother to the bar.
"I think i would like to meet her", she said.
Eris nodded to one of the employees who stood near by. The man nodded back and dissapeared threw a door. Arrangenments would be made. His mother would meet his Giselle and he would pretend to be bored.
He shook his head.
Not his Giselle The Giselle. The dancer. The small tiny woman with the grey eyes.
"Maybe he needs a drink", Cyrus said way to close to his ear.
Eris shuffed his brother off. "What the hell."
His brother laughed.
"You do look a bit out of it", his mothers brown eyes scanned him. "Are you feeling well?"
"I´m fine", he said. Normally he would smile for her. He always tried. But his Giselle had messed up his head and he was still trying to gather back his thoughts.
Her tiny frame spinning on stage. The way she fell into the arms of her partner. He was certain that at one point she had looked directly at him. She had to!
"It´s like he can´t hear us."
"Oh dear, we should go back to our seats", his mother grapped his right arm. "Seond half is surelly as beautiful as the first one."
His brother threw back his drink. "The things I do for you, mother."
Eris threw him a look. It was worse than the drink for his brother started coughing. They had agreed, although more in silence than in words, to not say anything to upset mother.
No. They would make her happy again. Truly radient and joyful, as she used to be.
That was the only reason Eris let his mother guide him back to his seat.
The second half would start. And His Giselle would turn mad.
He was still contemplating how he could safe her. In real life he would never let her become so mad. He would never leave her alone.
The lights dimed. And for a while Eris forgot how much he hated ballet.
Because Giselle was dancing right in front of him. What would he give to hold her in his arms. This late in the story the dancer had let her hair fall loose. Honey blond curls fell down her back. It was made to run his fingers threw it.
If he ever found his Giselle, he would never let her go. He would guide her threw her dance for eternity.
But Giselle died.
Her grey eyes found his for a moment and he almost jumped on stage. Anything to get that sad look out of her eyes. But he was just a man. And she was perfection.
With a soft sigh she dropped to the ground.
His mother cried next to him. She silently gave him a tissue, too. He discreatly whiped his eyes.
Something in his chest was moved. During the performance she had touched a part of him, that Eris had thought dead. Ironically her death had awakened him.
What was he even doing with his life?
He had to find his Giselle.
And luckily his mother hat already requested a meet up with the dancer.