Love has a rule. There is only a certain amount of hearts one can carry in their own hands without causing any damage to any of them. And that number is one.
When Lara Dias meets her idol, little did she know that when she went home that day, she al...
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Lara's POV:
Tom didn't leave his house for a week, but he is slowly improving. As days went by his silence slowly diminished, he started to be less in his bedroom. His brothers and Harrison visited, and he managed to interact with them. Yesterday, we played a board game and I managed to get some light laughs out of him. It was really relieving.
But I needed to take him out of the confinement of his house, and finally, after a lot of insisting, he agreed to go to the gym with me. I just knew that some training would do him good. And although I didn't tell him, I really needed this outlet as well.
I devoted myself completely to helping Tom heal. I mean, not that I wouldn't, but I literally forced my mind to always divert to him, to think of what to do next, instead of on thinking about... that...thing. That... guy. That pain inside my chest that never seemed to cease.
As we walk to the gym, I find my steps to be hurried and anxious, craving to find their release in dance. "Are you really that eager to beat me again?" Tom jokes lightly as he notices my hurry. My feet instantly respond with calming down, not only because of the self awareness, but also because I felt a tad light being shed on the darkness inside of me that is the reason I am hurrying so much, as Tom's humor was now well enough that he could make a joke, even as small as it is.
I smile and shake my head. "Sorry, you won't have that honour today. I reserved the dance studio and I really want to work on something."
"Oh, ok then. You mind if I join you there later?" He asks.
"Of course not."
We get to the gym, and just before we part ways, I clasp Tom's wrist. He stops in his tracks and turns to me, his eyes much brighter than they were a week before. Suddenly, Harrison's words about him having feelings for me swirls my mind, and I release my hand.
Even if I didn't owe no one anything anymore, I need to tread carefully. I don't want to hurt Tom.
"Will you be ok on your own? If you need me I can just forget the dance and-"
Tom immediately shakes his head and cuts me. "Really don't worry. Go on."
Entering the dance studio, I connect my phone to the speakers and start stretching. It takes a painful while to be done with it, but as soon as I am done, I search my playlist for the song I had been playing a lot this last week, the song I knew would suit my purposes the very best. I finally find "Consequences" by Camila Cabello, and start the action.
I spend a good hour choreographing the dance. "Consequences" played again and again and again for me to piece together the moves, and not once did I find myself disconnecting from the song, feeling it to my bones, allowing my emotions to take control of my body and find its release.
The song's softness and moments of intensity allowed me to go from delicate and fluid contemporary mixed with ballet to some acro moves. With every dance move the heartbreak I had pushed to the depths of my being came back to the surface.
