Desire (wlw)

XXIX.

Isabel

As Lea shifted on my lap, murmuring something about needing to get ready, I tightened my arms around her waist, wishing we could stay in this quiet little bubble just a bit longer. But I knew she was right. Rehearsal wasn't going to wait for us, no matter how much I wanted to hit pause on reality for the day.

Reluctantly, I let her go, and we both rose from the couch. Lea reached for my hand, her fingers lacing with mine, and led me toward her bedroom. Her room was a reflection of her—a little chaotic with its piles of sheet music and half-filled notebooks, but somehow still inviting and warm.

She went straight to her closet, rifling through her neatly hung clothes while I sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing my face to try and shake off the lingering exhaustion from the morning.

"Do you want to borrow something more rehearsal-friendly?" she asked over her shoulder, holding up a sleek black tank top that I recognized as one of her staples for practice.

I shook my head. "I brought clothes, remember?" I said, nodding toward the duffle bag I'd dropped by the door when I came over the other night.

"Suit yourself," she teased, tossing the tank onto her bed before grabbing a pair of fitted leggings.

I changed into my own rehearsal outfit—black joggers and a cropped hoodie—and tied my hair back into a sleek ponytail. Lea always looked effortlessly stunning, even in something as simple as her rehearsal wear, and as she finished tying her hair into a loose bun, I caught myself staring.

"What?" she asked, smirking when she noticed my lingering gaze.

"Nothing," I said, though the corner of my mouth lifted into a small grin.

Once we were ready, we decided to take Lea's car—her sporty little coupe always made the drive feel faster. The ride to the school's performing arts building was mostly quiet, a soft playlist of hers humming in the background. I caught her glancing at me a couple of times when she thought I wasn't looking, but I didn't call her out on it.

When we arrived at the school, the massive auditorium loomed ahead of us. This was the first time everyone—dancers, orchestra members, and production crew—would be meeting in the actual space where the showcase would take place.

The stage stretched wide and high, framed by towering velvet curtains. The seats were endless, a sea of red upholstery that made the whole space feel grander than I remembered.

I glanced at Lea as we made our way to the stage. She had a calm confidence about her, the kind that made everyone look her way without her even trying.

"Ready for this?" she asked, nudging me lightly as we stepped into the spotlight.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I said, my voice steady, even if I wasn't entirely sure it was true.

Avery strode into the auditorium, clipboard in hand and a purposeful expression on her face. The murmur of chatter among the dancers and musicians quieted almost immediately, all eyes turning toward her as she called out, "Alright, everyone! Today's focus is on lighting, sound checks, and stage placements for Isabel's choreography. It's going to be a long one, so let's get started."

Her voice echoed in the vast space of the performing arts building. The auditorium was immense, with high ceilings adorned by an intricate array of stage lights, their beams crisscrossing the air above us. The rows of plush, red-velvet seats extended far into the distance, a reminder of just how big this performance was going to be.

Lea gave me a soft nudge before heading off to join the orchestra setting up in the orchestra pit. I watched her go, catching the subtle sway of her steps and the way her hair caught the overhead lights. With a breath, I refocused on the task at hand.