A Beautiful Life

This is Your Night [Amber]

Sakura wondered if she would find him. Through the flurry of students leaving and arriving to class. In the courtyard or the quad. That they would cross paths and it would send her back however many steps it took her just to show up on Monday.

And as terrifying as the possibility was, she secretly hoped she'd see him. That he would find her, beg her to take him back. For everything to be okay and go back to the way it was before he ruined everything. To undo her progress, resorting to something that felt comfortable.

But she didn't see him. And as she stepped into her Ballet IV class, she allowed herself to release the stifled breath she carried. Only to inhale another one.

Sakura arrived to class early, only a few dancers speckled throughout the studio, stretching. She went through the motions—hung up her coat, removed her layers until she was in her leotard and tights. Compact fists grappled the barre and she faced the mirror. It was almost like staring at a different person.

It still shocked her how short her hair was now. Teresa helped her even it out when she discovered her crying on the floor. It was horrifying to sit with, once the reality of what she'd done set in. Her long, thick hair had been completely hacked. Gone were the black wavy locks that tumbled over her shoulders like velvety ribbons. Instead, she gazed at a girl with a short, choppy pixie cut, her fringe framing her brows.

It suited her face, and she was pretty enough not to rely on her hair to enhance her beauty. But she felt so self-conscious to even leave the dorm that she slathered a vampy lipstick on her mouth. A deep crimson, the color of blood. It was elegant against the pearly hue of her complexion, complementing her silver eyes and dark hair.

One leg propped to the barre, her toes stifled in her ballet slipper as she pointed them dramatically. She had barely moved for a week. This action alone felt uncomfortable, the stretch to her hamstring pulling generously within her thigh. But she appreciated the solitude, the short moment of peace before she would have to face another obstacle she dreaded.

A drop of a duffle bag broke her concentration. And she turned to see Tyler, who quickly pulled her in a hug before she could fully realize his presence. It wasn't tight or frisky or anything he would usually try on her. His arms cradled her back comfortingly, his cheek pressed against her shoulder.

"How've you been?" She could feel him mouth the words against her skin.

She held him back weakly, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. "Not great."

"Andrew told me what happened. I'm so sorry, Sakura."

She exhaled, burying her nose in his tee shirt. He smelled like some kind of heavy cologne. "I'm sorry for worrying you. I know you called, but I really couldn't talk to anyone."

"Don't worry about it. You're here now and that's all that counts."

Slowly, he withdrew from her, the warm smile fading as he met her gaze directly. He rubbed his chin, a gleam in his expression that felt a bit more familiar to her.

"Well hello nurse," he mused, visibly scanning her. Sakura rolled her eyes, but she also smiled. Because hell—it felt nice to have someone check her out, even if it was a pervert like Tyler.

"You are looking fine," he furthered, now flicking her hair with a lick of his lips. "This haircut looks so good on you I'm going to lose my shit."

She swatted his hand away, sucking in her cheeks to conceal a smile. "Take a chill pill. I look like a little boy."

But he chucked a laugh at her, shaking his head diligently as his arms folded over his chest. "You look so hot I don't know how I'm gonna concentrate today. Natalie's gonna be on my ass because I'll be too distracted looking at yours."