The Black Swan | Reposted

Chapter 44 - Thoughtful

I woke up, my head on the lowest part of his stomach, on the hemline of his boxers. He slept over; thankfully, I didn't want to be alone. We did nothing sexual; he just needed to get out of his jeans. I had my hands hugging his torso, his hand was in my hair, another sprawled out up on the pillows. His jaw was slacked open as I looked up at him, breathing heavily. I sat up, blinking slowly and yawned.

"You okay?" he breathed out, eyes shut.

"We have practice."

"We can skip Odette."

"No, I'd be nice to dance a bit. Would... can we go to the MET after?"

"Sure."

I smiled and got out of bed, skipping the morning shower. I dressed in my leo and tossed warm ups over it, getting breakfast with him. He went home to change and I went to the studio, explaining to Vincent why Harry and I were late, and the trouble that had happened earlier. He was more than understanding.

"Hey, remember the wedding bells?" Sarah smiled, limbering up.

My heart raced. "What? Did you find more ring pages?"

She shook her head. "We had this long talk, and I asked about our future and he says that the future will happen when it's meant to, and that's it's around the corner," she sighed. "Just the way he talked, and how he phrased our life together, it makes it out like wedding bell bliss will be far away."

"Is that bad?" I suppressed my smile, knowing Niall was so smart to throw her off track.

"No, no, I just need him now but I got a little crazy."

"It's okay Sarah, one day, you know it'll happen."

'I do, I know, I know, blah," she hurried off and I smiled, shaking my head. Harry came in, and walked right over to me.

"Are you okay?' he asked very seriously.

"I just want to focus on dance, want to go practice?"

He nodded and walked out with me. We both stretched well and then put on music, starting from the top of one of our acts. We stuck with the White Queen, something I would do well at.

"I think I have that on lock," I panted.

"Agreed."

We kept dancing, and there was this strange... I had no idea, something was in the air. Things felt different after last night, I had no idea why.

"I'm going to go home, and shower, can... can we still go look at paintings?" he nodded.

"I'll pick you up in an hour."

'Whose car was that the other night?"

"Zayns, I was with him when you called, at the tattoo parlor. I blew off the party."

"Oh, got it,' he nodded. "See you in a bit,"

I hailed a cab and went home, washing the sweat off me. I leaned on the tile walls, the water pounding into my face. I was so shaken up, so lost inside now, more so than before. I felt like one blow kept coming after another. I felt so shuffled. 

I wanted to look cute, but it was winter so I knew I'd be bundled up. My brown hair was smoothed out, my eyes had faint chocolate brown liner, my lashes coated with mascara. I pulled on a big, over sized cream sweater and a gray infinity scarf, tugging on black jeans. I grabbed my boots and then slid my coat on right when I heard a knock.

"Hey," I stepped out and locked up.

He was freshly showed, his hair still a bit damp but messy and curly. He was in his heavy black jacket, bringing me to his own car. He brought us to the museum; we listened to that soft lyrical music that made me think so differently of him. Maybe he was right, maybe he really was this deep iceberg, and I never knew when I'd see the bottom of it, the true depth of it. I think I liked that about him more than I cared to admit. It was nice to have to... wonder? It was nice for him to be so different than me.