Nina can do anything. Her mother has told her enough times: she's pretty, she's young, she's healthy, moderately rich: there's no way she can't achieve anything she sets her mind to. This is it. This is the only chance. Perfection.
Nina can dance with a twisted spine and ribs that feel like they're broken. She kind of likes the pain, to be honest.
And then of course there's Lily – the Black Swan –, looking at her from the other side of the room, her eyes dripping with golden brown, her long thighs, the way her chest heaves regularly as she breathes, in, out, in, out, not like Nina (when Nina breathes it's in in in when she's feeling greedy and cold and out out out when it's all too much).
"Why don't you like me?" Lily asks. She takes a sip from her water bottle. A droplet catches on her lips. That's why I don't like you.
"I like you just fine," Nina says. "Besides, I'm not here to like people."
"Don't you ever do anything other than what you're supposed to do?" Lily asks, heavy black exploding at the center of her irises.
No.
Ah, this music. At last.
"Everyone in place! Back to the top!"
Back to the top, Nina thinks as Lily steps back, and stretches her toes.
*
It takes a lot of coaxing, and Nina doesn't remember having ever agreed to it, but she finds herself in the tube with Lily after the rehearsal. It isn't entirely unpleasant, but it isn't entirely pleasant either.
She feels like she's waking up from a dream, looks around her, meets Lily's eyes. Lily smiles. Nina resents her for being this effortless kind of beautiful.
Nina never takes the tube. She tries not to let the panic overwhelm her, even as her nostrils fill with the acrid scent of sweat and her eyes with the inane conversations. She feels the anxiety pool in her stomach, crawling silently up to her lungs. She'll keep it in, she will.
"What's going on?" Lily asks.
"Nothing," Nina answers, probably too quickly.
Lily cocks her head. "Come here," she says eventually.
Nina doesn't.
"Come here," Lily repeats, and it's like an order, like something too compelling for Nina to resist (or maybe it's just that Nina wants it too much).
Nina comes.
She doesn't expect Lily's fingers curling at the base of her neck, tangling in the curls (messing her hair) and Lily pulling her close, until they're chest to chest, Nina's head buried in the crook of Lily's shoulder.
"Breathe," Lily says.
Usually, this would be the moment where Nina would have a panic attack; where she would scream, run, maybe even cry.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-06-30 01:15 am (UTC)Nina can dance with a twisted spine and ribs that feel like they're broken. She kind of likes the pain, to be honest.
And then of course there's Lily – the Black Swan –, looking at her from the other side of the room, her eyes dripping with golden brown, her long thighs, the way her chest heaves regularly as she breathes, in, out, in, out, not like Nina (when Nina breathes it's in in in when she's feeling greedy and cold and out out out when it's all too much).
"Why don't you like me?" Lily asks. She takes a sip from her water bottle. A droplet catches on her lips. That's why I don't like you.
"I like you just fine," Nina says. "Besides, I'm not here to like people."
"Don't you ever do anything other than what you're supposed to do?" Lily asks, heavy black exploding at the center of her irises.
No.
Ah, this music. At last.
"Everyone in place! Back to the top!"
Back to the top, Nina thinks as Lily steps back, and stretches her toes.
*
It takes a lot of coaxing, and Nina doesn't remember having ever agreed to it, but she finds herself in the tube with Lily after the rehearsal. It isn't entirely unpleasant, but it isn't entirely pleasant either.
She feels like she's waking up from a dream, looks around her, meets Lily's eyes. Lily smiles. Nina resents her for being this effortless kind of beautiful.
Nina never takes the tube. She tries not to let the panic overwhelm her, even as her nostrils fill with the acrid scent of sweat and her eyes with the inane conversations. She feels the anxiety pool in her stomach, crawling silently up to her lungs. She'll keep it in, she will.
"What's going on?" Lily asks.
"Nothing," Nina answers, probably too quickly.
Lily cocks her head. "Come here," she says eventually.
Nina doesn't.
"Come here," Lily repeats, and it's like an order, like something too compelling for Nina to resist (or maybe it's just that Nina wants it too much).
Nina comes.
She doesn't expect Lily's fingers curling at the base of her neck, tangling in the curls (messing her hair) and Lily pulling her close, until they're chest to chest, Nina's head buried in the crook of Lily's shoulder.
"Breathe," Lily says.
Usually, this would be the moment where Nina would have a panic attack; where she would scream, run, maybe even cry.
Instead, she breathes.
*