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[natalie grace hamilton]

look at the stars beneath my feet ,
I REMEMBER THE RIGHTS THAT I DID WRONG, SO HERE I GO.

Natalie released a small groan as she heard the satisfying pop from her ankle as she stretched in the middle of the small dance studio. The tape was wrapped snug enough to keep the joint supported while still granting enough flexibility so she wouldn’t be uncomfortable, and she let the tape get accustomed to her body as she flexed the ankle back and forth a couple of times. It had been awhile since she was able to get into the studio, her past few weeks filled with too much homework and exams to really allow her the free time, but Natalie had forced herself away from her desk that night, her body taking on that familiar anxiety that she always felt when she hadn’t danced in awhile. The last time she had felt this restless with the need to move was when she first injured her ankle years ago and had to be out of the studio for several months. At the time, she felt she was going insane on a daily basis having to sit inside, and she knew she wasn’t pleasant to be around, considerably more grumpy and angry than usual. So when she realized she had no more work to do, she gathered her stuff together and headed to campus, hoping a practice studio would be free.

Of course, it was a Sunday night so no one seemed to be around.

Double checking the list outside the door to make sure no one had the room reserved, Natalie went inside and immediately began warming up, a process that was just as relaxing as the actual dancing. It was quiet, almost eerily so, but she actually liked the silence. Everywhere else on campus was always so busy and loud, even the library at times, that it was nice to be sitting in the silence by herself. There was a reason she always felt more at home in the dance studios growing up, because even her house always seemed to bustling with activity, various congressional aides and businessmen always visiting her father. Adjusting her shoes slightly, Natalie stood, working out the remaining stiffness that was still in her joints before moving to the stereo and putting her CD in the player. She smiled to herself as the soft classical music spilled from the speakers, the sound a nice reminder of why she enjoyed the movement of dance so much.

Walking to the middle of the room, she stretched her legs a couple more times, getting the feel of the classic jazz shoes. It didn’t matter if it had been three years since she hurt herself, she would never get used to feeling of other dance shoes. She missed the ribbons and stiffness of pointe shoes, the satiny texture and feeling of rising up on her toes and practically floating across the floor. Everything just seemed so much more beautiful on pointe, the fouettés and the attitudes looking more graceful to Natalie when done on the toes and it was something Natalie missed being able to do. When the doctor told that she would no longer be able to dance en pointe, she thought he might have well told her she could no longer dance at all. It was classical ballet that got her the audition, but it was the ballet that ended up being her downfall. It took awhile, but her instructor finally convinced her that there were other types of dance she could do that wouldn’t stress her injury as much, but Natalie was never quite able to not feel some sort of resentment.

But dancing was dancing and it all used the same kind of passion and expressed its own unique type of beauty. So while she wasn’t able to train to the extent she once did, and though the dream she once had was shattered, she still found some comfort in the movement.

The music flowed throughout the small room as Natalie listened for a few more counts before taking a final glance in the large mirror and starting to move with the notes. She started out slow, letting her body get accustomed to the music, only traveling a few steps and doing simple turns. The moves weren’t the cleanest, she was well aware of that, and while this would usually cause her a great deal of frustration, Dare had reminded her that dance doesn’t always need to be perfect. Still, even with that reminder, she couldn’t help from stopping a couple of times before starting over, not worrying about following any specific choreography. As the music continued, so did she, her body gaining more momentum and her movements becoming sharper and more confident. Her extensions were longer, her turns slightly quicker, and her body more controlled overall, as she focused on the sound of the music from the speakers and her feet hitting the ground. She stepped back, preparing herself mentally and physically before performing a couple of tour jetés, each one slightly higher than the last before feeling a jolt of pain go through her leg, forcing her to stop.

Letting out a small hiss, Natalie rotated her foot, trying to work out the kink that disrupted her dancing, slightly frustrated. It wasn’t bad, that was quickly apparent, and it wouldn’t cause any issues outside of being a bit sore. But that was a normal part of dance and something she had gotten used to. Still, using the barre for support, she stretched her foot until the pain had subsided, before noticing a figure out of the corner of her eye. Turning around, she saw Rae’s friend Miles standing at the door watching her, the sudden knowledge that someone else was their causing her to be slightly self-conscious as she headed over to the stereo, stopping the CD.

”How long have you been standing there?” she asked, not accusingly in the slightest but more out of embarrassment.

screaming at the top of my voice  ,
DON'T BUY PROMISES CUZ THERE ARE NO PROMISES I KEEP.
tag; miles <3 words; there are some wearing; outfitcredits; template by delilahh @ CAUTION!, lyrics to
"same mistake" by james blunt notes; uhm put notes here? self-explanatory, really.

[Miles Christopher Williams]

I W A N N A W R I T E H E R N A M E I N T H E S K Y
I WANNA FREE FALL OUT INTO NOTHING
G O N N A L E A V E T H I S W O R L D F O R A W H I L E

His feet landed on the ground with a loud bang, his arms were held out to the side keeping himself balanced. Drops of sweat ran down his forehead, his neck and his back: he had been training for about three hours now and he never, never went easy on himself. If he wasn’t sweating he hadn’t been working hard enough – that was his number one rule, not only when it came to gymnastics, but also everything else in his life. He had always been hardworking and that hadn’t changed at all since he had started at DU – now he just remembered to have fun too.

And maybe sometimes a little too much fun for his own good. He was supposed to meet up with Catalina, a short hip hop dancer from the street dance group that he was a part of, but she hadn’t shown up and he didn’t actually know if he had expected her to. She was the one who had suggested some weeks ago that she gave him some personal training, because he was still more a gymnast than an actual dancer and he often couldn’t follow the rhythm as well as the dancers in the group. But of course the training got a little more personal than he had intended it to and they hadn’t even been in the dance studio for more than 15 minutes before she had taken his pants off. He had told her that he didn’t want anything serious, he had made that perfectly clear and she had said that it was fine – still there had been nothing but tension between them when they met up with the rest of the group and today she hadn’t shown up for training. Sometimes Miles didn’t get girls – she could have said no if she wanted to, he wouldn’t have pressured her to do something she didn’t want to.

Watching himself in the mirror he hesitantly swayed his hips from side to side, then made the movements wider and more determined, moving his feet too trying to copy the way he had seen some of the others dance. Fuck. He looked stupid. He shook his head has he stopped. He’d have to find someone else to help him, someone who didn’t want to sleep with him and someone who he didn’t want to sleep with. Maybe a guy…. It was just as if watching a guy dancing didn’t keep Miles as focused as watching a woman dance.

He whipped sweat off his forehead with his towel before he gathered his stuff and turned the light off in the room he had been using. It was getting late and he still had some homework to do for tomorrow – homework he probably should have finished before he had gone to the studio, but he just knew that he wouldn’t have been able to sit still unless he was exhausted. And he was pretty exhausted after three hours of intense training. Rolling his shoulders backwards he walked into the small hall that would let him out of the studio area when the sound of classical music made him stop. It wasn’t often that there were other people in the studios at this time on a Sunday. A part of him was thankful that Catalina hadn’t shown up – she was one loud lover and Miles only had bad experiences with getting caught in the act.

The music came from one of the studios that he never used because it was meant to be used mainly by dancers. Gently he pushed the door open so it wouldn’t make a sound though it probably didn’t matter, because the music would have overshadowed it anyway. Miles recognized the redheaded beauty immediately. Leaning up the doorframe he watched her silently as she swung her leg back and turned around, completely focused on her dance and not seeing him at all. She looked like porcelain, flying porcelain and he was almost afraid that she would break if she suddenly fell. He knew that it wasn’t the case but for now he let himself be seduced by the illusion she created with her beautiful, yet rough movements. A surprising roughness, one he wouldn’t have expected from a ballerina. But then he realized that she was hurting. Her ankle, maybe her foot, he could see it on her face when she was resting on it. Finding others physical weaknesses was something he had learned while he had been competing and he sometimes used now when he was fighting in the underground. But instead of feeling some sort of victory in knowing her weakness he just felt sad as he watched her support herself on the barre to stretch out her foot. His eyes wandered slowly from the tip of her toe, along her long slender legs, stopped for a second to admire her perfectly rounded behind before a sudden movement from her made him look up and make eye-contact with her for the first time.

Not caring whether or not it had been rude of him to watch her dance without making her aware of his presence he took a step forward as she turned off the music. A wry smiled appeared on his face as she asked him for how long he had been standing there, ”Not long,” he said, shrugging as he let his bag fall from his shoulder and land on the floor. ”Your ankle is hurting?” he said, meaning it more as a statement than an actual question as he sat down on the floor in front of her, clapping the floor in front of him as an invitation for her to sit down too. ”I hate to brag but I give fantastic ankle massages,” he winked at her, not in purpose of being cheesy or anything, more in an attempt to convince her that he was just trying to be friendly and had no dirty ulterior motive – though knowing Miles he always had dirty ulterior motives even when he wasn’t aware of it himself. Leaning forward he didn’t give her time to reject his offer ”If you hesitate too long it will be really embarrassing for me,” he whispered in a low voice.

[natalie grace hamilton]

look at the stars beneath my feet ,
I REMEMBER THE RIGHTS THAT I DID WRONG, SO HERE I GO.

It wasn’t that Natalie particularly minded if people watched her dance. In fact, she usually loved performing for others, dancing being the only time when she didn’t mind the attention being on her, mostly because dance usually meant she could take on another character. It wasn’t like they were watching her in those moments, but rather they were watching someone else, a swan or fairy or some other role she was assigned. They were watching the movements, the expression of music, but not Natalie, and she was okay with that. Plus, she was always well aware that she was talented, not in a condescending or conceited way, but she was a good dancer no doubt. She excelled at the technical aspects, evidence of long hours in the dance studio and continuous repetition of the steps. She practiced hard and for many years to perfect every pointed toe, every turn, every challenging dance sequence given to her, so when she got to finally showcase that hard work in a role that she deserved, she was able to feel proud of herself, and excited for other people to see as well.

But that precision and grace that once used to be folded into every move she made had been gone for several years now. Part of it was because of the less strenuous practice schedule she kept, only dancing when she found time and not for hours every day like she once did. And part of it was because of the inability to perform on pointe now, as regular ballet shoes didn’t allow her to capture that essence of floating across the floor. She admitted it made her feel weak at times throughout the years since her injury, the fact that her legs could no longer handle the strength needed to perform as flawlessly as they once did, but she had coped for the most part. But now her movements were less controlled and graceful, though to the untrained eye, it would be hard to notice.

Nevertheless, she could notice, and that was why she was hesitant to let others see her dancing, especially in an informal situation like this, where she was just making up choreography as she went.

So when she looked up to see Miles standing in the studio with her, embarrassment was the first emotion to set in, and she had blurted out the question before even realizing it. And she was slightly taken aback when he continued into the room and took a seat, something she hadn’t expected. She stayed by the stereo, unable to think of a response, though she didn’t have to since he kept talking, pointing out that she was in fact hurting. Her eyes narrowed at him without thinking, a bit offended by his statement, though it wasn’t as though he was wrong. Her ankle was hurting, but she couldn’t help but think that Miles didn’t have the authority to state that, especially in such a casual tone. His voice wasn’t condescending in the least, nor did it seem implying that there was anything negative about the situation, but it still made Natalie stiffen, the personal situation involving her injury not one she particularly wanted pointed out by someone she didn’t really know. But she knew that his insight wasn’t formed because of some obvious mistake on her part, but because he was one of those trained eyes she feared who were able to find the small things in the body that betrayed a person. He was an athlete, she knew that, and she knew gymnastics was like dance in many ways, mainly in that one had to be completely aware of the body and how it worked in order to succeed, so it honestly didn’t surprise her that he was able to spot the weakness.

But that didn’t mean she was pleased that he brought it up, nor was she particularly amused by his implied offer to massage her ankle. Still, she didn’t want to be completely rude, so she finally let her shoulders fall a bit from their tensed up position. He was friends with Rae after all, and while she wished she could say that meant he couldn’t be all that bad, Rae was also friend with the likes of Travis Moore. But Miles didn’t have that same air about him that Travis had, and he had been friendly enough when they met in underground, so Natalie figured she should give the same back. Walking over to where he sat, she actually gave him a friendly smile, though it was still admittedly tense. ”Well, I wouldn’t want to be the cause of any embarrassment or anything,” she said, gingerly sitting down, folding her legs underneath her body, letting them lay out to the side rather than within grasp of his hands. ”It’s fine, really. It will be anyway,” she said convincingly, before finally looking at him with less nervousness than before. Aching bodies were part of the art, she knew that and she figured he did too, so she hoped he would believe her, though she felt the need to still clarify. ”It’s really not that bad. Just one of those hazards of dance, ya know?”

Though Natalie was hit with a sudden curiosity for why Miles was in the performing arts at all. He was an athlete, not a dancer, so she expected that he would be in the gym rather than in the dance studios, where even dance majors didn’t frequent often on Sundays. It wasn’t as though and of the dance studios held any gymnastic equipment, and judging by the look of him, he had been practicing something, but she decided not to question it. Sometimes, people just needed to get away and dance.

”We went to school together, you know,” she blurted out, her attempt at making conversation, something at which she was never particularly skilled. She hoped he didn’t think of her as some sort of stalker or anything, given that she knew of him and he mostly likely hadn’t even heard her name before, but the statement was said before she could really stop it. ” I mean, we went to the same school. I was a few grades younger than you, though.”


screaming at the top of my voice  ,
DON'T BUY PROMISES CUZ THERE ARE NO PROMISES I KEEP.
tag; miles <3 words; there are some wearing; outfitcredits; template by delilahh @ CAUTION!, lyrics to
"same mistake" by james blunt notes; uhm put notes here? self-explanatory, really.