Devotion [Book 1]

Good At Goodbyes

Chapter 9

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Natasha knew she was dreaming from the moment she opened her eyes and found herself standing center stage of a packed theatre house. She gasped when she found herself bedecked in a beautiful soft pink ballerina tutu, a symphony of silk, netting, crystals, and diamonds. A matching delicate pair of pink ballet slippers were laced tightly to her trembling legs.

Lifting her head, she stared out at the audience cast in semi-darkness and was startled by their glares and fury, their mouths curled in silent snarls. She glanced about the stage in confusion and panic. Her face felt heavy under the thick stage makeup and the heat of the spotlight boring down on her caused beads of sweat prickle her forehead.

This wasn't right. She wasn't meant to be here.

Anxiety thundered through her body rendering her unable to flee the stage in time before the tinkling, crystalline sound of Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker began to filter through the theatre. Her head snapped up against her will and her legs began to point and step across the stage. Natasha tried to stop, tried to force her pointed toes to cease their movements and it was then that she finally realized why.

Strings.

There were fine silver strings attached to her arms and legs as if she were some kind of living marionette doll.

She tried to look up, to see who was controlling her, but the puppeteer tugged at the strings and she was forced to continue to stiffly perform Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy.

The music continued to swell, and she tried in vain to make eye contact with any of the audience members and plea with them to stop this madness. But it was no use. With each move, each pointed toe and raising of her arms, she was unable to break free of the strings controlling her.

The climax of the performance was nearing, and the music increased in magnitude. Over and over, she was forced to twirl around and around, making her way across the stage until the music ceased abruptly.

The Nutcracker Prince himself stormed from the wings and took hold of her.

She cried out, along with the audience as if they too knew that his entrance was not how the performance should go.

They jumped to their feet and their faces demonstrated their silent rage, but the Nutcracker Prince ignored them all and drew his golden sword from his scabbard.

Natasha's eyes widened further as she recognized who was playing the prince in her twisted dreamscape. None other than Steve Rogers was dressed as the handsome Nutcracker Prince. Natasha watched fascinated as he cut easily through the strings holding her captive with an overdramatic sweep of his sword.

She collapsed to the floor in a mess of heavy limbs and broken strings, the gold crown tumbling free from her head. The stage lighting changed, and it became cold and dark in the theatre.

In the distance the gentle strings of a harp being plucked caused her to look up and she discovered that Steve's hand is extended to help her up. She took his hand warily and as she rises, violins begin to join the melody and her body is filled with surprising weightlessness.

Now on her feet, Natasha turns to Steve and finds he has retrieved her crown and is placing it back atop her head. As it slots back into place amongst her curls, she feels the overwhelming desire to respond to the music's seductive call.

As if understanding her intentions, he nods at her encouragingly and Natasha finds herself raising her head high and extending her arms above her head before springing into action.

The joy that had once possessed her soul while dancing, was instantly rekindled with every arabesque and every bourrée as she moved gracefully across the stage. She forgot about the audience and even Steve who she left waiting by the wings while she moved about the stage.