Exhale

Chapter 35: Chara'e

Roman

The first notes left my fingers before she ever moved.

They always did.

I watched her reflection in the piano, waiting for the exact moment she'd inhale. There it was—a barely noticeable rise of her shoulders—and then she stepped into the phrase as though the music had pulled her forward instead of the other way around.

None of the others moved like Zuri.

She never chased the music. She lived inside it.

Every tendu landed exactly where I expected it to, every développé unfolding as if the melody itself had stretched her leg into the air. Even without looking directly at her, I could tell where she was in the choreography by the sound of her pointe shoes brushing against the sprung floor. Soft. Deliberate. Almost weightless.

When she turned, I instinctively eased the tempo by the smallest fraction. Not enough for anyone else to notice—just enough for her.

She caught it.

She always caught it.

The corners of my mouth lifted as she floated through the final rotation without a wobble, lowering herself with the same control she'd started with. We never had to look at each other to communicate anymore. Weeks of rehearsals had turned us into a conversation no one else could hear.

As the choreography grew more demanding, my hands pressed harder into the keys, matching the swell of the movement. Across the studio, Zuri flew into a grand jeté, suspended for the briefest moment before landing so quietly it was almost impossible to hear over the piano.

That was my favorite thing about her dancing.

She never tried to make ballet look difficult.

She made impossible things look inevitable.

By the end of the variation, loose curls of dark hair had escaped her bun, and a sheen of sweat caught the stage lights across her forehead. Her breathing was heavier now, shoulders rising with each inhale, but the second Mrs. Lane called for another run, she simply nodded and walked back to her mark.

No complaints, for now. I smiled softly.

She had no hesitation.

Just that quiet determination that made everyone else in the room work a little harder.

I rested my hands above the keys, waiting.

She looked over at me.

One small nod.

I smiled back and played the first chord again.

After rehearsal we walked home. We've been walking a lot lately; it's for therapy. Being with Z makes me feel safe and comfortable, and small healing together makes me want to do more than walk; I want to take her everywhere.

After we freshened up, we headed out to walk around and explore shops and small businesses. We landed at a small soup shop.

I couldn't keep my hands out of her curls, the way her hair bounced when she laughed, the glow in her eyes when she was thriving instead of being stepped on.

"You're beautiful." My voice dropped. She raised her brow slightly.

"What? Just an observation." I tugged a smaller curl, and her cheeks flushed.