Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52739 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
I pondered her question while she squirmed uncomfortably on the blanket. I could tell she was nervous, the toll asking me had taken on her. I wanted to say yes, but a selfish part of me wanted to take it all from her, and made me wonder if I had lost the very last vestige of humanity inside me. Finally, I nodded and she smiled wider than I'd ever seen her.
"You may train and dance," I told her. "You will have a year to prepare for the role. A year by my side."
"Oh, thank you!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around my shoulders. "I'm so grateful..."
I held her close, inhaling her sweet scent and cherishing every moment I got to spend in her company.
But as she pulled away, the far-away look I had noticed in her eyes before was firmly set into place again.
I'd only seen it gone once, and it was when she'd accepted that her tendons would be cut, that she'd never dance again professionally. And as soon as that hope, that dream, was back in her life, so was the look in her eyes that told me she was day-dreaming once again. Hoping for things she would never have. Lusting for a career path I'd never let her take. The competition between me and her love for dancing was fierce, and it was getting heated.
"You're welcome, Rose," I muttered as she smiled sweetly and kissed my lips.
She tasted of sugar and dreams I could never fulfill, and I hated myself for giving her false hope. Would I actually be able to watch her train? Love something else when my fucked up, selfish mind demanded that attention only for myself?
"Thank you, she repeated over and over again, her lips soft on top of mine.
I smiled rigidly, but deep down, I was already regretting my decision.
Two
Harlow
I felt rejuvenated, like a whole new person.
What Thorn had asked of me had twisted me up, turned me into a new person. But standing up for myself gave me even more strength, and I my mind was busy running amok with the possibilities. I would train again, properly. I would dance again... I would learn the routine for my all-time favorite ballet and perform it, if only for Thorn. It was a new purpose in my life, a new reason to live for. And I thrived knowing it was there.
Despite Amber leaving, Thorn kept Marchante around, and I arrived for my lesson that morning feeling much braver than I usually did. I had the feeling Marchante didn't like me very much since Thorn had lost his nerve with him for being too strict, but at least there was no one else for him to focus on now. As horrible as that sounded, I was glad to have the teacher's attention on me, despite the feelings of guilt about Amber that kept me awake at night.
I couldn't bring myself to hate Thorn for what he'd done to me. I wanted to. I needed to. But I had accepted it - that we were meant to haunt one another until we both gave in to the love that threatened to destroy us both. I had come to terms with being his willing victim. What I would never accept though, was that it had impacted others - innocent people like Amber, and, so I had thought, Carina.
I didn't feel sorry for my traitorous friend. She'd dug her own hole, and once I'd found out about her scheming against me, I didn't give a shit anymore. But I still wanted to keep tabs on Amber, and hopefully, through time, lessen the punishment she would have to suffer at the hands of Carina's father.
But for the moment, my attention was only on my training and feeling the stage floorboards creak under my feet again. That is why I started to get impatient after twenty minutes of waiting, and no Marchante.
I walked away from the studio and down the hallway until I ran into a guard.
"Where's Thorn?" I asked, and he gave me a blank stare.
I was used to it. Since he'd made sure everyone knew whom I belonged to, I hadn't received any unwanted attention.
"Busy," he replied awkwardly, turning his attention away from me.
"Hey," I argued. "I need to talk to him. My ballet teacher didn't show up."
"Marchante?" the guard asked, letting out a low chuckle as if there was some inside joke I wasn't privy to. "He's gone. Not coming back anytime soon."
"What?" I asked angrily, feeling my temper rising. "I want to speak to Thorn. Now."
"He's busy," the guard said again, glaring at me and standing up straighter in front of the door.
From his protective stance, I got the feeling my Thorn was right behind that door, and I bristled with anger trying to think of a way to get in there. I glared at the guard hoping he would just spontaneously combust, then turned to walk away, but at the last minute, turned around and rushed against the doors, opening them wide.