The Black Swan | Reposted

Chapter 63 - Fear

I was intimidated.

It was time to rise to the occasion. It was time to be strong. It was time to buckle down, no tears, and add the final building blocks of the Black Swan.

I walked in and was incredibly anxious. Harry was already dancing; leg muscles thick and prominent, protruding. I didn't know how he'd react to me. Last night was incredibly intimate, in all aspects, physically, mentally and emotionally. He was the beaming sun and I was a very small dancing star trying to spin in his universe. I had no idea if that would change things, I didn't know if it would make him more gentle with me or even more aggressive. My heart was racing as I approached him, he hadn't noticed me just yet.

He stopped as soon as he saw me.

"Hi." My voice was skittish.

His eyes were dark and intense. His jaw was tight and rigid. His back was held tight like a rod was going through it.

"Do not be weak. Do not be meek. You command this room."

I swallowed and nodded. "Are you ready to practice?"

"Are you is the real question." He moved and played music so I knew right where to begin. We began dancing, our bodies moving sharply and fiercely. I did every bend, leap, every arch I tried to make as clean as possible.

"Again." He panted after the third hour.

"I need water." I gasped.

"No. You are committed, now get this done. Do not give in"

We kept dancing and dancing all day. It was truly exhausting but I was hoping it would better me. I collapsed on the floor, the wood cold and hard. He was standing above me.

"Don't be weak. Don't crumble."

"Fuck," I gasped. "You. We haven't had a break in over six hours." I undid my ballet shoes and they fell to the floor. I curled up, needing space. I could feel the pulse in my body, the ache in my feet, of my entire body.

"You shouldn't need a break. You should have this on lock. I'm going to shower. I am picking you up late tonight. You think you know fear? You think you know fear of this roll? It's time to conquer fear the most direct way."

He left me alone and I gazed up at the ceiling. "Fear?" I nearly whimpered.

I scraped myself off the floor and soaked in the tub once I got home. I finally got myself together and waited and waited. He finally texted me to come outside, it was late, eleven o'clock.

"We have to rehearse in the morning." I grumbled.

"You'll be fine."

"Shouldn't I be resting?"

"Shouldn't you be resting?" His eyes rolled and he gripped the steering wheel.

I hated the dynamic in this tiny space with him. How could we have gone from intimate and close to this distance? I felt miles away from him, and I hated that. It felt like we took a million steps back, it felt like he let what we had go so easily and that broke my heart. At the same time, I kept telling myself that he was doing this for me. He was only trying to better me, better our ballet. That had to have been it, right.

Harry drove and drove into a different district in the city. He finally pulled up to an older house, it was large and in almost a Victorian style. He parked out front, along with a few other cars. My eyes drift to a very large sign.

"Sleep no more?" I whispered, reading the sign.

"It's... an interactive horror show." He smirked and got out. I felt my heart thud. I shakily got out and followed, his hands were in his pockets. The home was old fashioned and vintage looking. It was stunning but dimly lit, and creepy.