(no subject)
Pirouette
“That's good.” His voice broke through her concentration and she looked up in a panic. Somewhere below, her feet got in their own way and her ankles ended up wrapped around her knees.
Miranda slumped to the floor in frustration, balling her hands into fists in her dress. Noise waved a hand at the golem providing the gentle strains of The Blue Danube, holding the other one out to her.
“Calm down.”
It never sounded like a request from him, a direction that went through her ears and passed her mind straight into her heart. Her breathing slowed without her even thinking At least she hadn't cried this time, although the heat of embarrassment threatened to scorch them from her yet.
“You are too easily distracted.” He told her gently as she stood.
“I, I'm sorry.” She stared at his chest, unable to confront the tenderness in his eyes. This was hard enough for her already, to touch him like this, for him to waste his valuable time so. She didn't even want to know how she looked to him right now. The image of a lumpy, calcified limpet came to mind. She giggled a giggle that threatened to turn into a sob, her treacherous body acting against her again.
“My feet just sort of want to go their own way sometimes.” She tried to pass herself off as a joke. “Just a bit too clumsy for this really.”
She was beginning to regret the unexpected confession that had spilled out when they were in the library. How she admired his grace. Of all the uncouth, forward things to say! Her traitorous mouth again, acting all of its own self. So it was she had found herself invited to an empty training ground, shifting nervously in the sand as he explained how he was going to teach her spatial awareness.
“I don't believe that.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he lifted her hand to his shoulder again. Meekly she took up the stance again, hands hesitantly balanced on his arm and waist. The cloth murmured under her hands, the only sound beyond their breathing.
She waited for the instruction to begin, but it never came. She dared to glance up for a moment, at his blank eyes focussed somewhere beyond her. She began to tense up, looking for the source of a sound he would have heard before her. She stopped for a moment, the tears threatening again as she wondered if this was just an act to get rid of her. Say he heard a sound she couldn't possibly hear then leave to attend to it. Her hands fell away again as she tried to decide on the best way to leave without crying.
“I don't believe that.” He said again, distantly. He too removed his hands and stepped back.
Her hands dropped to her sides, heavy without purpose. Her skin felt strange without the press of his shirt, hot and itchy. He didn't believe in what? In her?
“You are not clumsy, clumsiness is a fallacy. You are just not aware, and you are not focussed.” He was walking away now, back to his coat on the floor.
She hadn't realised that she'd stopped breathing until he turned his head and smiled, and her throat opened up again.
“You get distracted. Focussing on one thing let's another distract you, take its place.”
He had something in his hand.
“When I hear, I hear everything at once. And then I choose what I want to listen to. Even if everything else is still in my ears.” He was slow in his speech, turning the words over. It occurred to her that no one really knew how his Innocence worked, how he worked.
He raised his hand and she unthinkingly raised hers to begin the dance again. Instead she found her fingers full of fabric.
“A blindfold?”
“A blindfold. For you.”
He took it from her hands, tying a delicate knot behind her head. She inclined her head towards him, nervously, flinching as his fingers caught in her when he pulled away.
“Why?”
“Spatial awareness isn't just sight. It is every sense you have to use. If I take that away, you will have to rely on them. Don't concentrate on one, concentrate on them all.”
Then suddenly he wasn't there any more. She thought for a moment about how she knew this, tried to grasp the fledgling idea, but the start of the music took it from her. She stood still, unsure of how to react, until her mind gave in and chose the obvious choice: to dance.
It was slow at first, jolted as she struggled to remember the steps, the next movement rising up before her like a stone in her path, making her forget the current one. As the panic faded they became easier. She thought of his directions. Concentrate on everything. First she heard the sand beneath her feet, how it changed with each step. How moving in one direction it became looser, in the other, more packed. She gravitated to the harder surface. From there she listened to the echoes of the music realising that they became louder as she went away from the source.
She was beginning to know her space, without even seeing - and so far hadn't messed up at all. She allowed herself a moment of satisfaction that ended abruptly as she stumbled, skinning her knee. She rested for a moment, listening for movement around the room. He wasn't there. Or was he?
Determined, she stood up again and began to trace the steps, thinking hard.
He was coming closer, she realised, circling around her like a leaf caught in an eddy. She could hear his breathing, hear sand moving, hear his clothes, hear his... heartbeat? Not his heartbeat, perhaps, that was impossible.
Her foot slipped, but she caught herself.
She was concentrating too closely on one thing. Try again. She scrunched her eyes up behind the blindfold and concentrated on everything.
It was like seeing the world from above through a crystal, with your ears. Reverberations because almost images that she wasn't seeing with her eyes. She was here, and he, he was...
She raised her hand to his shoulder as she stepped in front of her. His hand came to hers as their feet slipped past each other. He changed position without warning her, moving in reverse. She kept smiling, switching hands as they switched roles. He wondered if her new ability would let her know, without looking, that he was smiling as much as she was.
“That's good.” His voice broke through her concentration and she looked up in a panic. Somewhere below, her feet got in their own way and her ankles ended up wrapped around her knees.
Miranda slumped to the floor in frustration, balling her hands into fists in her dress. Noise waved a hand at the golem providing the gentle strains of The Blue Danube, holding the other one out to her.
“Calm down.”
It never sounded like a request from him, a direction that went through her ears and passed her mind straight into her heart. Her breathing slowed without her even thinking At least she hadn't cried this time, although the heat of embarrassment threatened to scorch them from her yet.
“You are too easily distracted.” He told her gently as she stood.
“I, I'm sorry.” She stared at his chest, unable to confront the tenderness in his eyes. This was hard enough for her already, to touch him like this, for him to waste his valuable time so. She didn't even want to know how she looked to him right now. The image of a lumpy, calcified limpet came to mind. She giggled a giggle that threatened to turn into a sob, her treacherous body acting against her again.
“My feet just sort of want to go their own way sometimes.” She tried to pass herself off as a joke. “Just a bit too clumsy for this really.”
She was beginning to regret the unexpected confession that had spilled out when they were in the library. How she admired his grace. Of all the uncouth, forward things to say! Her traitorous mouth again, acting all of its own self. So it was she had found herself invited to an empty training ground, shifting nervously in the sand as he explained how he was going to teach her spatial awareness.
“I don't believe that.” She could hear the smile in his voice as he lifted her hand to his shoulder again. Meekly she took up the stance again, hands hesitantly balanced on his arm and waist. The cloth murmured under her hands, the only sound beyond their breathing.
She waited for the instruction to begin, but it never came. She dared to glance up for a moment, at his blank eyes focussed somewhere beyond her. She began to tense up, looking for the source of a sound he would have heard before her. She stopped for a moment, the tears threatening again as she wondered if this was just an act to get rid of her. Say he heard a sound she couldn't possibly hear then leave to attend to it. Her hands fell away again as she tried to decide on the best way to leave without crying.
“I don't believe that.” He said again, distantly. He too removed his hands and stepped back.
Her hands dropped to her sides, heavy without purpose. Her skin felt strange without the press of his shirt, hot and itchy. He didn't believe in what? In her?
“You are not clumsy, clumsiness is a fallacy. You are just not aware, and you are not focussed.” He was walking away now, back to his coat on the floor.
She hadn't realised that she'd stopped breathing until he turned his head and smiled, and her throat opened up again.
“You get distracted. Focussing on one thing let's another distract you, take its place.”
He had something in his hand.
“When I hear, I hear everything at once. And then I choose what I want to listen to. Even if everything else is still in my ears.” He was slow in his speech, turning the words over. It occurred to her that no one really knew how his Innocence worked, how he worked.
He raised his hand and she unthinkingly raised hers to begin the dance again. Instead she found her fingers full of fabric.
“A blindfold?”
“A blindfold. For you.”
He took it from her hands, tying a delicate knot behind her head. She inclined her head towards him, nervously, flinching as his fingers caught in her when he pulled away.
“Why?”
“Spatial awareness isn't just sight. It is every sense you have to use. If I take that away, you will have to rely on them. Don't concentrate on one, concentrate on them all.”
Then suddenly he wasn't there any more. She thought for a moment about how she knew this, tried to grasp the fledgling idea, but the start of the music took it from her. She stood still, unsure of how to react, until her mind gave in and chose the obvious choice: to dance.
It was slow at first, jolted as she struggled to remember the steps, the next movement rising up before her like a stone in her path, making her forget the current one. As the panic faded they became easier. She thought of his directions. Concentrate on everything. First she heard the sand beneath her feet, how it changed with each step. How moving in one direction it became looser, in the other, more packed. She gravitated to the harder surface. From there she listened to the echoes of the music realising that they became louder as she went away from the source.
She was beginning to know her space, without even seeing - and so far hadn't messed up at all. She allowed herself a moment of satisfaction that ended abruptly as she stumbled, skinning her knee. She rested for a moment, listening for movement around the room. He wasn't there. Or was he?
Determined, she stood up again and began to trace the steps, thinking hard.
He was coming closer, she realised, circling around her like a leaf caught in an eddy. She could hear his breathing, hear sand moving, hear his clothes, hear his... heartbeat? Not his heartbeat, perhaps, that was impossible.
Her foot slipped, but she caught herself.
She was concentrating too closely on one thing. Try again. She scrunched her eyes up behind the blindfold and concentrated on everything.
It was like seeing the world from above through a crystal, with your ears. Reverberations because almost images that she wasn't seeing with her eyes. She was here, and he, he was...
She raised her hand to his shoulder as she stepped in front of her. His hand came to hers as their feet slipped past each other. He changed position without warning her, moving in reverse. She kept smiling, switching hands as they switched roles. He wondered if her new ability would let her know, without looking, that he was smiling as much as she was.