The Shadows We Dance With

Ch10: The Shadow of Trust

A few months had passed since Spencer's last competition, and though his life had continued with the same rhythm—dance classes, competitions, and private lessons with Val—something had shifted. The unease that had gnawed at him for so long hadn't disappeared, but it had become a constant presence, something that Spencer had grown used to, something he could ignore. Val's reassurances that Spencer could trust him had become a mantra, a comforting refrain that Spencer clung to whenever the doubts crept in.

Val had woven himself deeper into Spencer's life, their relationship evolving into something more than just teacher and student. They had started going to lunch together during breaks, and sometimes, when the day was done and the studio was empty, Val would take Spencer out for dinner. These outings had become routine, a part of their shared world that existed outside the dance studio. It was during these quiet moments, away from the noise and competition, that Spencer felt closest to Val.

Sitting across from each other at a small, dimly lit café one afternoon, Val smiled at Spencer, who was picking at his salad. The café was a favorite of Val's, tucked away from the bustling streets, offering a sense of privacy that Spencer found comforting.

"You've been working hard, Spencer," Val said, his voice soft but firm, the kind of tone that always made Spencer feel seen and appreciated. "You deserve a break every now and then."

Spencer nodded, though his mind was elsewhere. He had been thinking a lot about school lately—about the kids who had bullied him, who had made him feel small and insignificant. He had graduated early due do how smart he was but it stuck with him. He had shared these thoughts with Val before, trusting him in a way he had never trusted anyone else.

"Sometimes I think about those kids at school," Spencer admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "The things they said... the way they looked at me, like I didn't belong."

Val leaned forward, his expression gentle but serious. "You belong with me, Spencer. You know that, don't you? Those kids didn't understand you. They were jealous of you, of your talent, your intelligence. They couldn't see what makes you special."

Spencer looked down at his plate, Val's words wrapping around him like a warm blanket. "I know. It's just... it's hard to forget sometimes."

Val reached across the table, placing his hand over Spencer's. His touch was firm, reassuring. "You don't have to forget, Spencer. But you do have to move forward. You're stronger than they ever gave you credit for. And you have me. I'm here for you."

Spencer looked up, meeting Val's gaze. There was something in Val's eyes, a depth of emotion that Spencer couldn't quite name, but it made him feel safe, protected. Val had always made him feel protected, from the very first day they met. Val wasn't like the kids at school who had tormented him, and he wasn't like his mother when she had her episodes. Spencer knew his mother loved him, but when she wasn't well, her love became something else—something that frightened him, something that made him feel helpless. Val was the opposite of that. Val was strong, steady, a rock in Spencer's life that he could cling to.

Val's voice softened, taking on a more intimate tone. "You know, Spencer, I forget sometimes how young you are. It's easy to talk to you, to confide in you."

Spencer felt a rush of pride at Val's words. He had always wanted to be taken seriously, to be seen as an equal, especially by someone he respected as much as Val. "You can tell me anything," Spencer said earnestly. "I won't judge you."

Val smiled, a shadow passing over his eyes that Spencer couldn't quite catch. "I know you won't. That's one of the things I admire about you, Spencer. You're trustworthy, and that's rare."

As they finished their meal, Val talked about things he wouldn't normally share, things Spencer knew he probably shouldn't be hearing. Stories about other dancers, about the politics of the dance world, about people Val didn't trust or particularly like. Spencer listened intently, soaking up every word. He liked that Val trusted him enough to share these things, to let him into a world that was usually hidden from view.

"I shouldn't be telling you this," Val would say, his tone thoughtful, honest, as if he wished he hadn't said the things he had, looking over spencer's shoulder, like he couldn't look at Spencer, his eyes flashed and he looked back "But you're different, Spencer. It's easy to forget your age."

Spencer always reassured Val that it was okay, that he wanted to know, wanted to understand everything about the world they were a part of. It made him feel important, special, like he was privy to things that no one else was.

Over time, Val had also become more physically comfortable with Spencer. His touches had always been a part of their training—adjusting Spencer's posture, guiding his movements—but now they extended beyond the dance floor. A hand on Spencer's shoulder during a conversation, an arm around his waist when they walked to the car after dinner, a lingering touch on his back when they sat together, discussing the next competition. Spencer was used to it by now, had come to expect it. Val's physical presence was just another layer of the protection he offered, another way he showed he cared.

But sometimes, late at night when Spencer lay in bed, those touches would replay in his mind, and the unease that had become such a familiar companion would stir. He would remember how Val's hands sometimes gripped a little too tight, how they would drift a little too far. But then he would remind himself of all the ways Val had helped him, all the ways Val had made him feel safe and valued, and the unease would fade, replaced by the comforting knowledge that Val would never hurt him.

Spencer needed Val. He needed the stability, the assurance, the sense of belonging that Val gave him. He needed someone who understood him, who saw his worth, who protected him from the things in life that were too hard to face alone.

And so, when the unease resurfaced, when Val's touches made him feel something he couldn't quite name, Spencer pushed it down, deeper and deeper, until it was nothing more than a whisper in the back of his mind. After all, Val had always told him that trust was the foundation of everything they had built together. Spencer trusted Val more than anyone else in the world.

Val smiled at Spencer as they left the café, his arm draped casually over Spencer's shoulder. "You know, Spencer, we make a great team. I'm so proud of how far you've come."

Spencer smiled back, the warmth of Val's approval filling him with a sense of pride and belonging. "I couldn't have done it without you, Val. Thank you for everything."

Val's grip on Spencer's shoulder tightened slightly, a silent reassurance. "You're welcome, Spencer. And remember, I'm always here for you, no matter what."

As they walked back to the studio, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement, Spencer felt a sense of contentment settle over him. The unease was still there, buried deep, but it was quieter now, easier to ignore. Val's words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder that he was safe, that he was cared for, that he could trust Val completely.

But in the shadows of that trust, something darker lingered, something that Spencer was still too young to fully understand. And for now, it remained hidden.