ballet shoes

xi. arabesque

it took a lot of convincing from carter until diana finally decided it was time to fly back home. she'd shed a few tears here and there, but he knew better than to indulge his sister with her antics. he only wished stephanie wouldn't be getting that side from her mother.

although carter tried his best to visit morgana more often, college became more demanding than ever. it was more than a week before winter break, and exams and a few more requirements only intensified the weight on carter's shoulders.

yet, the idea of coming home to morgana, was more than enough to keep him going.

the winds became colder and colder as the thought of morgana's recital being only four days away drilled a hole into carter's mind. sometimes he felt like it was too soon, most times it felt like four more decades.

what would he say to her once they talked? what would he do if she said she didn't remember? carter would step back, of course he would. he would — maybe — walk away, try hard not to look back and pull her into his arms again.

easier said than done.

"i'm telling you dude, don't get a girlfriend. they're shapeshifters. at first they're gonna look like a lovesick puppy, and then the next they're gonna look like a wild gorilla demanding you to put a ring on their finger!"

carter watched as his friend clayton massaged his temples frustratingly. they were down at the coffee shop nearest to the college, taking a break from all the work. at least, carter was. clayton looked like he was just about ready to die.

"don't let a girl hear you say that." carter chuckled, taking a sip of his coffee. "what's so wrong about haidi anyway? she's nice."

clayton's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets. "nice?! she's crazy!"

clayton went on and on as carter kept his mouth shut. he knew better than to interrupt — it was a common thing for clayton to ramble on like that.

carter's eyes wandered around — from the snowy road outside to a crying boy on the other side of the street; from the shopping bags dangling from a woman's arm to a passing lamborghini; and then, from the table beside them to the girl standing at the coffee counter.

his lips parted.

eyes wide, a girl stared back at him. her rose gold hair reflected against the dim yellow lights of the coffeeshop, and she was dressed in a burgundy turtleneck sweater tucked into a pair of cotton jeans. the puffer jacket she was wearing and the scarf wrapped around her neck weren't enough to battle the cold, as her nose and her ears were tinged pink.

from the beginning, carter knew he would never mistake the love of his life for someone else.

"dude, are you even listening?"

carter blinked slowly, afraid that morgana might disappear if he moved. his whole body sat like a stone, like it was a miracle to see her there. it really was.

morgana was here — and she was as frozen as he was in the moment. neither of them dared to move an inch, and for a while, carter thought that time stopped.

it was a tug on morgana's arm that told him otherwise. a girl, the same redhead morgana was always with during ballet practices, pulled her towards the door of the coffeeshop. carter's smoldering eyes followed their moves, as he tried to chase morgana's gaze once again.

she never looked back.

and he'd never forgotten the pain, confusion, betrayal, and a little hint of relief echoing from her eyes since then.