Sequins and Somersaults: A Conan Gray Fic

In The Night

"What a night," I exclaim, throwing myself dramatically into my father's car. I run my hand down my face, which is now red and sweaty. Just like Conan's leotard, I think to myself, before shaking my head to dispose of the thought. I slide down the seat as my father starts the car, exhausted from all of the exercises that I watched Conan do.

"Yeah," Begins my father, as he pulls out of the gymnasiums parking lot. "It sure looked like there was a lot going on with you and Conan. Are we sure he is even qualified to be teaching gymnastics? Your mother and I should have listened to you, maybe this whole thing was a bad idea."

Unable to believe what I'm hearing, I sit up a little straighter and lean my head into the front seat.

"Are you serious?" I almost yell, blood the color of Conan's leotard rushing to my face. "This is probably the best thing that's happened since we moved to this stupid town. And what do you mean is he "even qualified?" I looked around tonight, and it didn't look like any of the other instructors even had a clue what they were doing; they had their students doing flips, and stretching and a bunch of other crap that was probably in no way beneficial to their gymnastics skills." I pull my head back, sitting in my seat once more. My body still shakes with anger, so I count to ten to calm myself. One, Conansippi, two, Conansippi, three, Conansippi...

"Alright, darling. If you really think Conan's lessons are helping you, then I won't be the one to force you to stop. I just want you to make sure that you are actually enjoying the lessons, and not just enjoying Conan's good looks and company."

I gag, but otherwise offer no response to my father. He turns into our driveway and presses a button on a little control, causing the garage door to lift. As it goes up, I can't help but notice that the doors are the same shade of brown as Conan's eyes. I shake my head once more, unable to keep the thoughts of him from running my mind.

Bursting through the door, I run to my mother in our living room, exclaiming, "Tonight went perfect!"

                                                                                 ...

Dear Diary,

Tonight went good. Conan is my instructor. He is hot.

Love,

Raven

I smile down at my work, pleased. My teachers always tell me that I am great at writing, but sometimes it takes writing something as deep as this in my journal, for me to be reminded of that. I reach back and put my long hair into a braid, letting it fall down my spine. My silk pajamas slide up and down my smooth legs as I move, putting my journal back on my nightstand for tomorrow. Right as I am about to turn off my lamp and go to sleep for the night, something hits my balcony door.

I sit up straight, like a vampire raised from the dead. Twenty seconds later (good ol' stopwatch), the sound comes again. I twist my hand around my blanket, shaking. All of the horrible Texan monsters begin running through my mind: like what if it is a wild pig head-butting the door??

Before I can continue that thought, the sound comes again. I make the decision to get up and fight for my territory. I imagine all the applause I will get, when I finish my telling my story of how I fought off a wild pig in order to protect my family, to all my adoring fans. The thought drives me forward, and I grab my least favorite Juicy Couture sweat suit from my dresser, to use as a weapon. I count to ten, before yanking the door open with a little too much force.

"THIS IS MY HOUSE, YOU CAN'T EAT ME!" I scream at the wild pig. Only, there isn't a wild pig. Just a wild...Conan?

"Shhh! You'll wake everyone up!" He half whispers, half yells. His eyes move up and down my body. "Nice pajamas. Got anything in red?"

It is only then that I realize that he is still in his leotard, despite the slight chill in the air. The shoes that he had thrown at me earlier are now on his feet, and there is sweat lining his brow. I put the pieces together, and...

"Did you run here?" I ask, shocked.

"Yeah," He answers. "I don't believe in cars. Never know when they might go rogue and drive you off the road."

"You are so smart," Sweat begins to line my own brow, even though the temperature has not risen at all. "But, what are you doing here?"

"No time for questions. Go get dressed and then meet me out here."

"But- you have to explain where we're goin-" I stop talking, because I know Conan will not hear me. I watch him run into the distance, hair flopping all over the place, arms stiff at his sides.

"This should be fun."