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ghouliesmash · 5 months ago

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This is top 5 Cardinal Copia fics EVER. And I’ve probably read all of them to exist. AHHHH 😻😻😻😻

Pas de Deux: Ballet Teacher Copia x Fem!Reader | Pt. 1

Summary: With just a few days left until the eagerly anticipated performance of “Romeo and Juliet” in the ballet, the class is surprised when their usual teacher is replaced by a man named Copia, who takes the charge of the final rehearsal before the grand premiere.

Words: 14.772

Warnings: Part one is composed by Chapter 1 and Chapter 2. Chapter 3, 4 and 5 coming next week. No Warnings for this part, only for next week.

Part 1 (Ch. 1 & 2) available on AO3

tag list | tip-jar

PART 2

As you arrived at the studio, you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The upcoming ballet presentation was only days away, casting a shadow of excitement and nerves over everything. The thought of stepping into the role of Juliet filled you with anxiety, as you knew that embodying such character demanded nothing less than your absolute best on stage. But you knew you couldn't afford to let your nerves get the best of you.

With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and focused your mind, pushing aside the lingering doubts and insecurities. There was no room for hesitation or distractions.

Heading towards the dressing room, you exchanged smiles and nods with your colleagues before approaching your locker. With a soft click, the locker disengaged and you swung the door open. Peeling off your shirt and sweatpants, you revealed the sleek lines of your leotard. Adjusting it, you settled onto the bench, reaching into your bag, retrieving your ballet slippers. You slipped them onto your feet, tying the ribbons securely.

Clad in your dance attire, you stepped out into the studio, smiles and waves were exchanged once again as you made your way to the corner of the room for your warm-up routine, until your attention suddenly drawn to a newcomer entering the studio, a man in tight, all-black dance attire.

As all eyes, including yours, turned towards the enigmatic figure — he carried himself with a quiet confidence, effortlessly commanding attention as he sets his bag down in the corner and assumes his place in front of the mirrors.

As you study him, you got struck by his distinctive features – of average height, with a mop of brown hair framing his face adorned with scattered freckles. His facial features are equally striking; sunken eyes lend depth to his gaze, while a meticulously groomed mustache adorns his upper lip. Sideburns trail down from his temples to his jawline, framing his face with an air of old-world elegance. But it's his gaze that truly captivates you; his eyes, one a mesmerizing shade of green, the other an unusual hue that defies description, reminiscent of pale opal, holding a certain intensity.

"Ciao, buonasera a tutti," he began. His voice, a soft and melodic cadence, carried a hint of an accent delicately veiled beneath his English. "My name is Copia. I'm a teacher, and I'll be substituting for Conti for a few days."

Eyes flickered with silent conversations exchanged between dancers, seeking understanding. Before anyone could voice their questions or skepticism, Copia continued.

“There’s a certain... magia, that each dancer brings to a studio, a unique energia that I’m eager to witness here,” he remarked, his gaze sweeping across the room. “I’ve heard exceptional things about the talents in this studio, and I’m honored to share this space with such dedicated artists," he said with a gentle smile.

Suddenly, a hand elevated in front of Copia. Tilting his head toward the raised hand, with a subtle gesture, he welcomed the question. "Mr. Copia," one of the dancers, inquired. "What happened to Mr. Conti?"

"Mr. Conti is taking a temporary leave due to a personal matter that requires his attention," he started.

Another hand went up. "Mr. Copia, as we're close to our theater performance date, will there be any changes to the date?"

"Non c'è bisogno di preoccuparsi," he reassured, "The date of your performance remains the same. Any more questions?"

You raised your hand. Copia's gaze shifted in your direction, and he gracefully adjusted his pose, signaling for you to speak. "Mr. Copia, right?" you inquired, noting his confirming nod. "Great, so, my question is: do you even know what we are set to perform?"

"Romeo e Giulietta, sì?" he responded, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Yes, but, do you know who is playing who?" you inquired, walking to the middle of the studio. "Mr. Conti—"

"Mr. Conti already told me about everything," Copia interjected. "Tuttavia, if you're uncertain about my knowledge, perhaps you'd prefer to tell me about it or demonstrate it for me."

"What? Me?" you inquired, a little nervous.

Copia nodded, making his way toward you, maintaining eye contact. "Sì, so I can have a notion about how you all are prepared for the performance," he declared, gesturing with his hands to clear space as the other dancers made room for you. "Who are you going to portray at the ballet?" he inquired, his brow arching inquisitively as he leaned against the nearby ballet barre.

"Juliet."

"Giulietta, perfetto," he acknowledged with a nod, a small smile playing on his lips. "And you're training alongside the other dancers for the performance?"

"Yes," you replied, nodding in confirmation.

"Perfetto," he nodded in understanding, pushing off the barre to stand upright. "So, you won't have any trouble showing me," he teased lightly, a playful glint dancing in his eyes as he extended his hand for you to join him on the dance floor.

With a playful chuckle, you stepped forward to join him, deliberately choosing not to take his offered hand. This prompted Copia to smoothly withdraw his hand, tucking it behind his back with grace. As you faced one another, you caught a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. With a slight, inviting gesture, he encouraged you to make the first move.

You positioned yourself, preparing to execute the first step with precision. Copia remained where he was, observing you intently for a few moments before gracefully returning to the mirrors. Pausing briefly, he glanced over his shoulder, meeting your eyes as if seeking your approval. With a subtle nod, you signaled your readiness, and Copia proceeded to cue the music, setting the stage for your dance.

With graceful movements, you began to demonstrate the steps, the music of Prokofiev's ballet filling the air around you. You executed a series of precise pirouettes, your movements fluid and effortless. You weren't focused on it, but Copia couldn't tear his eyes away as you moved with grace and poise. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as you lost yourself in the graceful movements, each gesture infused with emotion.

You extended your arms, fingertips reaching towards the heavens with a sense of longing. With each step, each arabesque, your feet moved with precision across the floor, you spun and twirled, arched your back and tilted your head with a soft expression. With a final, breathtaking leap, you landed softly, your body poised in perfect stillness as the music faded into silence.

As the dance came to an end, Copia offered a slow clap, his eyes gleaming with certain amusement. "Molto bene," he commented, his voice carrying a subtle hint of admiration. "I'm impressed, Giulietta."

You returned his smile, a flicker of pride in your eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Copia," you replied. "I've been practicing."

Copia's smile widened, and he nodded. "It shows," he remarked, a hint of challenge in his tone. Copia's gaze held yours for a moment longer before he averted it to the other dancers. "Does anyone have any questions before we begin?" he asked, his voice projecting authority.

A hesitant voice spoke up from the back. "Yes, just one," the dancer said, stepping forward. "How long will you be with us?"

Copia paused for a moment, considering. "I'll likely be here until the day of the performance at the grand theater," he answered.

"Does that mean you'll be traveling with us?" you asked.

Copia nodded affirmatively. "Sì, sì," he replied with a slight smile. "Are there any further questions?" He inquired, scanning the room. "No? Eccellente," he expressed, smiling. "So, let's start, sì? On your positions for the warm-up."

With Copia's words, you and the dancers scattered across the spacious room, each finding a spot before the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that lined one wall. The room quickly filled with the soft thuds of ballet slippers against the marley floor, punctuated by the occasional sigh or whisper of fabric.

Copia stood at the front, his presence commanding yet encouraging. As he navigated through the room, his gaze swept the room, offering nods of approval or gentle corrections. You diligently worked on your own, stealing glances in the mirror not just to check your form but to catch glimpses of Copia.

As you concentrated on your reflection in the mirror, you made a conscious effort to divert your attention away from Copia. There wasn't a particularly compelling reason to keep your gaze on him, after all. As you lowered your eyes to your feet, lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice Copia's approach. His footsteps were silent as he closed the distance between you. Suddenly, you felt a gentle tap against your lower back, and his voice, close to your ear, pulled you out of your reverie.

"Straighten here, more power from your core," he advised softly, his touch fleeting.

You widened your eyes, suppressing the urge to let out a startled sound, and instinctively straightened your posture. As you did, you heard a slow, approving hum resonate close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. As he walked away, you found yourself unable to look away, stunned by the unexpected action.

Copia made his rounds, moving among the students, offering guidance on their posture and movements, until he returned to the front of the room. As he turned, your eyes were still on him, and before you could divert your gaze, he caught it. Your cheeks flushed with warmth, betraying your embarrassment. Copia offered you a discreet, knowing grin before turning his attention to the other dancers.

Copia clapped his hands twice, the sound echoing crisply in the room. "Alright, everyone, gather around," he called out.

You and the other dancers gradually slowed your movements, turning your attention towards him converging in a semi-circle. You chose a spot near the edge, and then, his gaze briefly found yours once more. This time, however, you quickly averted your eyes before him, feeling a knot of embarrassment from earlier tightening in your stomach. Determined to regain your composure, you focused on the dancers around you.

"We’ve had a good start this morning, but now it's time to focus on the choreography," Copia announced, his eyes scanning the group before pausing momentarily on you, a unknown smile on his lips. "Today, we're going to drill the sequences that Conti told me it needed the most work, and I expect everyone to give their best. Remember, it's not just about the steps, but the emotion. Let's bring Romeo e Giulietta to life!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I'm already familiarized with our Giulietta," Copia mentioned, his gaze briefly meeting yours again before he surveyed the rest of the room. "Tuttavia, Who's the Romeo? Where is he?"

"He hasn't arrived yet," responded one of the dancers.

"Hmm, that's... unfortunate," Copia murmured, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of mild frustration. "Giulietta!"

Nervousness fluttered through you at Copia's call. "Yes?" you responded, stepping forward slightly.

"We might need to improvise a bit until Romeo arrives. Would you be comfortable running through some of your solos? Or perhaps," he paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face, "Would you agree with me standing in for him temporarily? Just in case."

"I... that would be... I mean, if you're sure it wouldn't be too much trouble," you managed to say, your words tumbling out in a rush of excitement and nervousness. "That sounds like a good idea, I think," you agreed, the idea increasing the bundle of nerves in your stomach.

Before Copia could speak, the studio door swung open abruptly, and one of the dancers stepped inside. The newcomer was none other than your friend—the Romeo in the upcoming performance, Anton.

"I'm so sorry, I'm late," Anton apologized, slightly out of breath. "Mr. Conti, I—"

Copia's expression shifted, his brows knitting together. "I'm afraid Mr. Conti isn't here," Copia interjected before Anton could finish his sentence. "Piacere di conoscerti, I'm Mr. Copia. And you are?"

Anton lingered near the door momentarily, his gaze sweeping across the room until it found yours, offering you a small, sweet smile. "I'm Anton," he replied, moving away from the entrance. "I know I was supposed to be here much earlier, but I had some prob—"

Copia lifted a hand, effectively halting Anton's explanation. "Mr. Anton, we can discuss this after class. For now, could you please change into your ballet slippers and join us?"

Anton headed towards a corner of the room, the strap of his bag still slung over his shoulder. The room fell into a respectful silence, all eyes—including yours and Copia's—focused on him as he efficiently removed the baggy clothes he'd been wearing to reveal the ballet attire beneath. With practiced ease, he slipped off his street shoes and pulled on his ballet slippers.

Once fully changed, Anton made his way over to the semi-circle and stopped right beside you. Without hesitation, he took your hand in his, fingers intertwining. You turned your face to look up at him, meeting his gaze. He offered you a soft smile, one that you couldn't help but reflect back at him.

Copia cleared his throat slightly, a subtle gesture that pulled attention back to him. "Mr. Anton, may I ask, what role are you playing in this ballet?"

Anton's response was both proud and gentle, "I am her Romeo," he said, nodding towards you with a warm smile.

For a moment, a subtle change flickered across Copia's expression, almost imperceptible. "Given that you've just arrived, Mr. Anton, I think it might be best for you to start with some warm-up exercises in the corner," Copia suggested, his tone of voice regaining its usual authority. "The rest of the dancers, excluding Giulietta and her Romeo, per favore, make your way to the dance floor and let's begin today's practice."

The dancers began to gracefully position themselves across the studio floor. Meanwhile, you and Anton retreated to a designated corner. routines. The sound of music filled the air, and Copia counted off the beats, his voice clear over the melody. You couldn't help but steal a glance over your shoulder towards him. He was focused on the dancers, his attention dedicated to their movements.

As Anton began his warm-up, stretching his limbs, he glanced at you, a hint of apology in his tone. "Sorry, I didn't want to make you wait for me to be able to practice," he said, extending into a hamstring stretch. "So, what's the deal with... Copia?"

As Copia's eyes met yours, you immediately turn back to Anton, watching him from one stretch to another, "Ah, he’ll be filling in for Mr. Conti for a few days, it seems."

Anton transitioned into a lunge, his focus partially on his form and partially on the conversation. "Why?" he asked, deepening the stretch.

"I'm not sure," you admitted. "He mentioned something about Conti having other obligations, so he will be taking over for a while."

"That's unusual," Anton commented, pausing between stretches, looked at you curiously. "And how have things been going with... this sudden change?"

"Well, fine I guess. He answered some questions, asked me to dance," Anton raised a brow as you said it. "Don't worry, it was because I asked him if he knew what we are doing here and I think he felt a little... confronted? Maybe? And then he asked for a demonstration," you chuckled. "Also, before you arrived he actually offered to dance with me, believe it or not. But then you arrived just in time," you said, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

Anton raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he resumed his warm-up with a series of arm circles. "Oh? What? He did what?" he prodded, his tone light but probing. "Is he trying to steal you from me?" he inquired with a playful tone.

"Jerk!" you chuckled at his question. "It was just in case you didn't show up. But you are here, so it is fine, really. I'm chill about it. No one is trying to take me away from you, Romeo." you responded, shrugging nonchalantly. "Also... Mr. Copia seems..." you couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, your eyes drifting across the dancers swirling behind you. As your gaze sought Copia, you found him in a corner, his attention fixed on you and Anton, "...capable enough." He gave you a small smile, and turned away.

"Hey, could you help me?" Anton asked.

You turned once again to Anton, moving closer to assist him, you adjusted his posture for the correct alignment. “So, why were you late today?”

Anton sighed. "It was my partner again," he admitted, shaking his head slightly. "We had another... misunderstanding."

"Still having trouble?" you asked sympathetically.

“Yeah,” he admitted with a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping a bit. “It seems like it’s always something. But I don’t want to bring that drama into the studio."

“No problem,” you reassured him, offering a supportive smile. “You know you can talk to me. Plus, we’ve got to look out for each other here, right?”

Before Anton could reply, Copia's voice cut through the air, “Giulietta,” he called out, drawing your attention immediately. You turned to see him standing with an expectant look on his face. “Is Romeo done with his warm-up?”

“Yes, I’ve done a... quick warm-up,” he said, his eyes flicking between you and Copia. “And you can call me Anton,” he added with a polite, firm tone.

Copia’s eyes lingered on Anton for a moment, analyzing his stance and demeanor. “Molto bene, Anton,” he said. “If you’re ready, let’s start the routine," he turned his gaze back to you, “let’s see how well Romeo can keep up with you.”

"I assure you, Mr. Copia," Anton began, his voice steady, "we can keep up with each other."

Copia regarded him with a hint of skepticism, his gaze sharp. "Is that so, Mr. Anton?" he countered, his tone challenging.

Anton met his gaze squarely. "Absolutely," he affirmed, the confidence in his voice unwavering.

"Bene, let's see it," he replied, a playful challenge underlying his words.

Copia made a subtle gesture towards the sound system. With a click, the studio was filled with the haunting melody of a familiar piece. Without a word, Anton extended a hand towards you, his eyes locking with yours in a silent invitation. With a nod, you accepted, your fingers intertwining with his as you both stepped onto the center of the dance studio.

You and Anton moved gracefully to the center of the studio, aligning yourselves side by side. As the music enveloped the room, you began to dance in perfect harmony, your movements synchronized with Anton's as if you were two halves of a whole.

However, the grace of the moment was shattered when Anton attempted the grand jeté but stumbled, falling on the floor. Copia's commanding voice cut through the music, halting the dance. Reacting swiftly, you sprinted in Anton's direction, concern etched on your face.

As Copia approached Anton in silence, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his response. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle, filled with concern. "Are you alright, Anton?" he asked, his tone soft.

Anton winced slightly as he tried to stand up, but managed a weak nod. "I'm... I'm fine," he murmured, offering a faint apology.

"Just take a moment," Copia said, his voice soothing. Turning to you, he gestured for you. "Could you help me, Giulietta?" he asked.

You nodded in response to Copia's request, stepping forward to lend Anton a hand. As you reached out to help him up, your fingers brushed against Copia's, sending a gentle jolt through you. With a combined effort, you and Copia helped Anton to his feet, ensuring he was steady before releasing him.

"Thank you," Anton mumbled, offering a small, sheepish smile as he regained his balance. "And I'm sorry, Mr. Copia," he added.

Copia shook his head gently. "There's no need to apologize, Mr. Anton," he reassured. "The important thing is, are you feeling alright? Can you continue dancing?"

Anton's nod confirmed to continue, and Copia moved gracefully to the center of the studio. His presence commanded the attention of all the dancers, including yourself. As he positioned himself, you furrowed your brows, curious about his intentions. However, before you could even begin to speculate, Copia spoke.

"The grand jeté," he began, his voice steady. "Remember to push off from both feet simultaneously, allowing your momentum to carry you forward."

As he spoke, he demonstrated the sequence, his movements fluid and precise. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, his words and gestures drawing you in, as if mesmerized by his action. You were captivated.

As Copia completed the demonstration, he turned to Anton, a smile playing on his lips. "Maintain control and balance throughout the jump," he reminded him, his tone encouraging yet firm. "Now, let's see, give it a try."

Anton stepped forward eagerly, ready to execute the grand jeté sequence under Copia's watchful eye. As he prepared to leap, Copia interrupted with a gentle hand on their shoulder, adjusting their posture slightly.

"Keep your back straight and engage your core," he advised, his voice calm and reassuring. "And don't forget to fully extend your legs as you jump."

Anton, with a nod of determination, drew in a deep breath and executed the sequence. Copia observed attentively as he faltered, prompting him to give a subtle nod before stepping forward.

"You see," he began. "You're doing good, but, your landing is too heavy," Copia pointed out. "Focus on landing softly and smoothly to maintain your momentum."

Anton nodded, absorbing Copia's advice, and attempted the sequence once more, this time landing with greater finesse. Copia's eyes gleamed with approval as he nodded in satisfaction.

"That's much better," he praised, his voice resonating with encouragement. "Remember," he started with a playful grin, "imagine you're soaring through the air like a graceful swan, not a clumsy goose!"

"Thank you, Mr. Copia," Anton acknowledged gratefully. "I'll work on it."

“I’m sure you will,” Copia began, glancing in your direction, “Giulitta needs her Romeo, sì?” as he said it, he gave you a small smile.

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks at Copia's words, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. But before you could respond, he averted his gaze, addressing the entire class instead.

"Va bene, tutti," he announced, his voice authoritative yet gentle. "Let's take a quick break. Stretch your legs, grab some water, and we'll resume shortly."

As Copia called for the break, the dancers dispersed, heading towards the dressing room to rest and refresh. Just as you were about to follow suit, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder and a familiar weight leaning against you. It was Anton, his sigh heavy with exhaustion. You shared a small chuckle, reciprocating the embrace by encircling your arm around his waist, and together you made your way towards the dressing room.

As you passed by Copia, you couldn't resist stealing a final glance in his direction. It was a fleeting, almost instinctual movement, you caught a glimpse of him focused on his bag, his attention elsewhere. Satisfied, you redirected your gaze towards the door ahead, determined to put him out of your mind for now.

Entering the dressing room, you and Anton parted ways. Anton drifted off to converse with some other dancers, while you made your way to your locker.

At your locker, you take a moment to catch your breath. You retrieve a water bottle from your bag, taking a few sips to rehydrate. Leaning against the locker door, you close your eyes briefly, allowing yourself a moment of peacefulness before you quietly slipped out. You felt an inexplicable urge to return to the studio, your steps guided by an unspoken impulse. As you entered, your feet led you directly to where Copia stood, his silhouette still near his bag. Lost in contemplation, he appeared absorbed in his own world, retrieving a bottle of water and taking a sip, his gaze distant and thoughtful.

Approaching him, you cleared your throat softly, causing him to startle slightly and turn his attention to you. His eyes widened in surprise, but a warm smile quickly spread across his face as he greeted you.

"Ah, Giulietta," he said, his voice soft yet filled with warmth. "Is there something wrong?" he replied, his voice soft but attentive.

"I just wanted to say... thank you," you said, feeling a blush creeping onto your cheeks. "For how you handled Anton earlier. It was really... kind of you."

Copia's expression softened, and he offered you a warm smile. "Ah, it was nothing," he said modestly. "Just part of the job."

You shifted slightly, crossing your arms. "Well, anyway," you continued, mustering up a small smile. "I just wanted to let you know."

Copia's smile widened, and he nodded appreciatively. "Grazie, Giulietta," he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that made your heart flutter. "I appreciate it."

You nodded in acknowledgment and turned to head back to the dressing room, but before you could take the first step, Copia's voice drew your attention with a subtle clearing of his throat.

"It's just a pity," he remarked, causing you to pivot back to face him.

"What's a pity?" you inquired, curious.

"I was genuinely looking forward to seeing you dance with Anton," he chuckled, tucking his water bottle back into his bag.

You chuckled, placing your hands on your hips and tilting your head slightly. "You do realize the class isn't over yet, right?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. "Teacher?"

Copia choked slightly, clearing his throat as he nodded. "Sì, sì," he managed to reply before regaining his composure. "Giulietta, per favore, you don't need to call me 'teacher', 'Mr. Copia' is sufficient."

"Well," you started, taking a step closer to him. "Mr. Copia, since the class isn't over yet, I believe we'll resume practicing once the break ends, won't we?"

Copia blinked, a flicker of nervousness crossing his features before he recomposed himself with a small chuckle. "Of course, Giulietta," he replied, his voice steady. "We'll continue with the practice once the break is over."

"In that case, you'll have the chance to watch me dance," you remarked with a playful glint in your eyes.

Copia's gaze lingered on yours, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I'm looking forward to it," he replied, taking one step closer to you.

As the dressing room door creaked open, you both instinctively took a step back, widening the space between you. A lingering gaze exchanged between you and Copia lasted for a brief moment before you turned away, putting distance between yourselves. With a nod at his direction, you walked away from him, joining the other dancers as they filtered back into the studio.

"Molto bene," Copia exclaimed, clapping his hands together to gather everyone's attention. "Are we ready to continue with the practice?" he inquired, scanning the dancers as they reassembled into a semi-circle. "Mr. Anton!" he called out.

"Yes, Mr. Copia," Anton responded, stepping forward.

"I believe now is the perfect time for you to demonstrate how well you can keep up with Giulietta, sì?" Copia suggested with a grin, extending one of his hands in your direction. "Giulietta, per favore."

You looked at Copia and made your way towards Anton as the other dancers gave you both space, creating a clear path on the center of the room. Meanwhile, Copia stepped away to set up the music. As the first chord of the song echoed through the room, you and Anton positioned yourselves. This time, there was a sense of determination and fire in your eyes — a silent agreement between you and Anton that failure was not an option.

With that, you both began to dance, synchronized movements flowing seamlessly from one step to the next. The grand jeté came and Anton executed it flawlessly, his movements graceful and controlled. You matched his every step, feeling a rush of exhilaration as you soared through the air.

However, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Copia’s eyes on you, his gaze piercing through the intensity of the moment. Strangely, this only fueled your determination to execute each movement and step with excellence, letting the music dictate your motions.

As the final chords of the song filled the studio, you completed the dance in Anton's arms, the two of you breathing heavily from the exertion. You leaned into him, seeking some balance as you caught your breath, the exhilaration of the dance still coursing through your veins.

The room fell into silence and the sound of applause filled the air, initiated by Copia's clapping. Soon, the other dancers joined in. Stepping away from Anton, you turned to your colleagues, offering them a smile and a nod of gratitude.

"Molto bene," Copia praised between the claps, causing you to turn your head in his direction. "Bellissima," he added, his gaze quickly finding yours.

Feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks from Copia’s gaze, you shyly smiled and lowered your face, directing your gaze to the floor.

"Sono impressionato, Mr. Anton," Copia continued, his voice carrying a note of admiration. "You're a quick learner and," he paused, a silent chuckle escaping him, "perhaps you can keep up with Giulietta after all. And as for you, Giulietta," Copia said, turning his gaze to you, "great job."

You felt your cheeks flush at the unexpected praise, a shy smile playing on your lips as you murmured a quiet "Thank you, Mr. Copia," unable to meet his gaze directly.

He nodded with satisfaction, crossing his arms. "Now that we've seen our main couple in action, it's time for the rest of the dancers. Procediamo.” He gestured for the other dancers to take their positions, his voice commanding yet gentle as he directed the rehearsal forward.

As the music filled the room once more, the other dancers seamlessly moved into their routines, each step and movement guided by Copia’s instructions. Occasionally, he would join in, demonstrating steps with grace and precision, his presence commanding attention as he effortlessly led the performance.

As the dance progressed, you joined in with the other dancers, seamlessly blending into the choreography as you moved across the studio floor. As you danced with the others, you found yourself exchanging glances with Copia. Coincidence or intention, his gaze seemed to linger on you, igniting a spark of anticipation with each fleeting look.

You all danced as a cohesive unit, each step synchronized to the rhythm of the music, creating a display of skill and artistry. Copia watched on with pride, his voice cut through the music, offering words of praise and encouragement as the dancers continued to perform.

As the final notes of the music faded away, Copia stepped forward, a proud smile gracing his lips as he addressed the dancers. “Bravissimi,” he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “Well done, tutti,” he exclaimed. “Magnifico,” he declared, his voice ringing out in the now-silent studio. “Bravi, bravi tutti.”

While Copia looked over the group of dancers, you could see a glimmer of pride and satisfaction in his eyes. It was as if they were sparkling with admiration.

"It was thankfully to you, Mr. Copia," one of the dancers exclaimed, offering a grateful smile.

"Thank you," another chimed in, nodding appreciatively.

With a warm smile, you stepped forward. "Thank you for guiding us, Mr. Copia," you added, your voice soft but sincere.

Copia's cheeks flushed slightly at your words, and he cleared his throat before responding, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "G-Grazie," he murmured, averting his gaze momentarily. After a moment, he composed himself. "Grazie, everyone. I'm very satisfied with what I have seen here today," his voice returning to its usual tone with a more steady demeanor. "Before we finish today, does anyone else have anything to say?" The dancers exchanged glances, but no one spoke up. Copia nodded. "Well then, let's wrap up for today," he said, his tone gentle. "Bravissimi tutti! Ci vediamo domani."

With that, the dancers began to make their way to the dressing room. Anton hurried to retrieve his bag from the corner of the studio, and you waited for him, extending your hand as he approached, ready to walk into the dressing room together.

Entering side by side, you headed towards your locker, weaving through the other dancers who were already in the process of changing. Some were exchanging goodbyes and waving as they prepared to leave for the day. You took your time, removing your ballet slippers and placing them neatly in your bag.

Suddenly, you felt a kiss on the top of your head, and you turned to see Anton beside you. "Hey," he said with a gentle smile. "I need to go, I need to have a conversation with my partner, so I'll head out first. Are you okay going home alone today?"

You nodded, returning his smile. "Yes, of course. Go ahead, I'll be fine. See you next class."

With a quick farewell, Anton left, and soon other dancers followed suit, leaving you alone in the dressing room to finish changing. After packing up your bag, you stepped out into the studio, where you noticed Copia still lingering, lost in thought, humming some music.

"Bye, Mr. Copia," you said softly.

"Eh!?" he exclaimed surprised, and then he turned to face you, his expression shifting. “Ah, Giulietta! It's you.”

You chuckled, nodding as you adjusted the strap of your bag over your shoulder. "Yes, it seems we're the last ones to leave, aren't we?"

He chuckled in agreement, picking up his bag and walking over to where you stood. "Sì sì, it appears so, Giulietta."

As you anticipated Copia heading your way, he veered towards the door instead. Grabbing the handle, he swung it open and held it, his gaze fixed on you. With a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, you walked towards him, exiting the studio with him following closely behind.

Copia gestured for you to walk and you fell into step beside him. The silence between you felt strangely intimate, both comforting and uncomfortable at the same time. Determined to break it, you searched for something to say, anything to fill the quiet air.

"So," you began, prompting him to turn his gaze towards you. "What are your thoughts on today, Mr. Copia?"

"You all are incredibly talented dancers," he replied with a nod. "I have no doubt that the debut of the ballet will be amazing."

"Really?" you arched a brow.

"Absolutely!" He exclaimed. "The dancers are amazing; they're all synchronized and dedicated," Copia chuckled softly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "But I must say, you are were quite impressive."

You raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Me? Mr. Copia, are you admitting that I might be good and you won't make me dance a solo to prove it?"

Copia's grin widened, his gaze locking with yours. "Forse," he conceded, his tone dripping with playful challenge. "But I suppose we'll have to wait and see, won't we?"

You chuckled. "I suppose we will," you agreed, unable to resist the challenge in his eyes.

He turned his gaze to the front as you both arrived at the front door of the studio building. With a polite gesture, he opened it for you, and you stepped outside, and you exchanged a final nod with him before turning and heading on your way.

"However," he said, causing you to pause in your tracks and turn back to face him. "I believe that you're a very talented ballerina."

You blinked, surprised by his compliment, and a faint blush crept onto your cheeks. "Thank you, Mr. Copia," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Copia gave you a nod. "See you tomorrow, Giulietta," he said before turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction.

You watched him for a moment, feeling a flutter of anticipation for the next day's class, before finally heading off in your own direction.

Strolling down the street, you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, purposefully heading towards the dance studio a bit earlier than your usual schedule. It was a deliberate decision; you craved the solitude of an empty studio for a serene warm-up session before the hustle and bustle of the class began. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy dancing with others, but there was a unique allure to early morning practices, where you could move freely without the eyes or judgments of onlookers.

Pushing open the heavy door, you stepped into the quiet foyer, and with determined steps, you made your way down the corridor towards the studio room, your ballet bag slung over your shoulder. However, as you reached the door of the studio, a faint sound caught your attention—a melody floating through the air. Curiosity piqued, you approached the door, your hand hesitating on the handle.

Standing on your tiptoes, you peered through the small window in the door, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you. Inside, you saw Copia, moving with effortless grace to the rhythm of the music. He danced alone, his movements fluid and precise, as if lost in his own world. You watched mesmerized, captivated by the beauty of his dance. For a moment, you forgot about your own plans, your own worries, as you became lost in the enchanting spectacle before you.

As the music continued to fill the room, Copia's movements grew increasingly captivating. Mesmerized, you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. Despite having danced together just yesterday, witnessing his solo performance from a distance offered a new perspective. It was a proof of the beauty and skill that he had, a testament to his talent.

Stepping back from the door, a pang of guilt washed over you. Perhaps, like you, Copia also cherished the solitude of early mornings. Maybe he wanted the freedom to dance without any eyes upon him, just as you did. Yet, despite these thoughts, you found it difficult to tear your gaze away from him. Your curiosity and admiration compelled you to watch him just a little while longer, even as you grappled with the guilt of intruding on his private moment.

You returned to your tiptoes, your curiosity outweighing your sense of guilt. You continued to watch Copia, recognizing the steps instantly, the familiarity, as he moved around the studio floor. As you leaned against the door handle, absorbed in watching Copia's performance, a sudden surge of excitement caused your hand to slip, accidentally turning the handle and pushing the door open wider than intended. You stumbled forward, caught off guard by the sudden movement, and found yourself on the threshold of the studio room, peering inside with wide-eyed surprise.

Copia froze mid-step, startled by the unexpected intrusion. “Ah!” Copia’s startled gasp echoed through the room as his movements halted abruptly as he turned to face you, surprise written across his features.

You felt a rush of embarrassment flood through you. "I-I'm so sorry," you stammered, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to interrupt, I was just... I mean, I didn't expect anyone to be here, and I... I didn't mean to open the door like that."

Copia’s expression softened as he realized your genuine mistake. “No, no, it’s alright,” he reassured you, stepping closer with a comforting smile. “I just didn’t expect anyone to arrive so early either. Are you okay?”

You nodded, still feeling mortified but relieved by his understanding. “Y-yes, I’m fine. I’ll just… go... over there... here,” you mumbled, gesturing awkwardly towards the front door.

"No, no," he said, gesturing with his hands. "Per favore, stay."

"Stay?" you repeated, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Copia nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Sì, stay," he confirmed. "I'd say 'come in' but I think you already did, sì?" he chuckled slightly.

You slowly nodded. "Okay," you agreed softly. "And, yes... Sorry again."

"Just close the door," he chuckled, gesturing towards it before making his way to turn off the music.

You complied, closing the door with a deep breath, still reeling from the embarrassment of your clumsy entrance. You turned back to him, watching him. "Mr. Copia, I'm deeply sorry."

Copia turned back to you, a gentle smile on his face. "Don't worry about it," he reassured you, his tone warm and understanding, "don't need to apologize."

You nodded, feeling a bit flustered. "But I... I didn't mean to interrupt your... practice."

"It's alright," he said. "You didn't interrupt anything. I wasn't practicing anything, more like a warm up. But, if you allow me to ask... Why you arrived early? Is there any problem?"

You shrugged, trying to downplay your embarrassment. "Just felt like it, I guess. Wanted some quiet time before the class. However, it seems like I'm not the only one who enjoys an early dance warm up."

Copia chuckled. "Heh... Sì, sì. Though I must admit, I didn't expect an audience this morning."

"I'm sorry, but, it was quite a performance," you commented, nodding towards the empty space where Copia had been dancing.

"Grazie," he replied, his gaze meeting yours. "And you were just watching me, eh?"

You chuckled shyly. "Well, it's not every day I get to see a talented teacher dancing up close."

Copia's smile widened. "That means a lot coming from you."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, but you couldn't help but smile back. "Does it?"

"Sì, of course," he said with a smile as he settled on the floor, gracefully slipping off his ballet slippers. "I told you yesterday, you're very talented, alata ballerina."

"Ala... What?" you chuckled, amused by the unfamiliar term.

"Alata ballerina," he repeated, his gaze meeting yours as he looked up.

"What does it mean?" you inquired, moving closer and sitting down in front of him, setting your bag beside you.

"Eh..." he hesitated, his eyes holding yours for a moment before he averted his gaze. "It's just a nickname," Copia said, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he avoided your gaze.

You tilted your head, intrigued. “A nickname? For what?”

Copia shrugged, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “It’s just something I thought it would suits you...” he admitted sheepishly. “It means… um… winged ballerina.”

“Winged ballerina?” You repeated.

Copia nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “It's fine if you find it cheeky... But for me, It suits you,” he repeated softly.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a flutter in your stomach at his words. "Well, I like it and it's not cheeky at all," you said softly. "Thank you, Mr. Copia."

He glanced up at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he admitted, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Uh... But, honestly, it just slipped out."

You chuckled softly. “Well, I’m glad it did,” you replied, returning his smile. “It’s different and it's a lovely nickname. But why 'winged'?”

He glanced away for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Then, he looked back at you, his gaze soft and sincere. “Bene, you do have a certain grace and elegance, like a... butterfly,” he said earnestly.

You felt your cheeks flush at his compliment, and you looked down, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “Oh...” you giggled timidly.

Copia reached out and gently tilted your chin up, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Non essere timida,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours. “Again, you are very talented.”

You nodded, feeling his fingers delicately tracing along your chin. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but bite your lower lip, a nervous habit that betrayed your embarrassment. You couldn’t shake the flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach. His touch was gentle, almost teasing, and yet it sent a wave of warmth coursing through you.

"Thank you, Mr. Copia... again," you said in a voice barely above a whisper.

Copia's hand withdrew from your chin. “Ma sto dicendo la verità, watching you dance… it’s like witnessing poetry in motion.”

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Poetry in motion? That’s…"

“It’s only the truth,” he insisted, his tone sincere.

Struggling to maintain eye contact, you diverted your gaze to the floor, a shy smile playing on your lips. A laugh, nervous escaped you. “I just do what the music tells me,” you admitted, shrugging slightly.

“And that,” Copia started, “is what sets you apart.” His voice was low, intimate.

As you parted your lips to speak, the moment between you was abruptly interrupted by the distant sound of voices from outside the studio. He rose from his seated position with a sense of urgency.

“Looks like the others are starting to arrive,” Copia remarked, glancing towards the door.

He extended a hand towards you. Looking at his hand, you took it, grabbing your bag and standing up. “Guess it’s time to get ready for the class.”

For what felt like a long minute, you both stood there, staring at each other, holding hands. You felt his thumb moving in circles on the back of your hand, a small but intimate gesture that sent a warm feeling through you.

Copia released your hand as the sound of the door handle echoed through the room. One by one, the other dancers started to enter the studio, their cheerful waves directed towards both you and Copia, breaking the spell of the moment between you too.

They moved past you, heading towards the dressing room and for a brief moment, you found yourself alone with Copia again. The air between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken words. But instead of speaking, Copia simply turned his back towards you, a silent end to the conversation that had never truly begun. With a sigh, you turned to follow the others to the dressing room, your heart a filled with confusion and disappointment.

Just as you took a step away, his voice pierced the silence, halting your retreat. "Giulietta," he called out.

You turned back to him, a questioning look on your face. "Yes?"

Copia hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment that felt longer than it probably was. "I..." he started, then paused, as if choosing his next words carefully. “You should hurry,” he finally said, his voice carrying a different weight than what his initial pause had promised. “Don’t want to miss the warm-up. Go change.”

You nodded, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you turned away from him and made your way towards the dressing room. Stepping inside, you fell into your daily routine: heading to your locker, stowing your bag, changing into your practice clothes, and retrieving your ballet slippers for another day of rehearsal at the studio.

As you finished dressing, you made your way back out of the dressing room and into the studio. There, you noticed Copia standing with his back to the other dancers, everyone else beginning to gather around.

"Shall we start with the warm-up?" he suggested, turning towards everyone with a gentle smile.

The dance studio hummed with activity as the dancers dispersed across the floor, each finding their own space to begin the warm-up routine. Copia moved among them with a fluid grace as he offered gentle corrections and encouragement. There was a distinct gentleness in his demeanor as he interacted with the others, his voice carrying a soothing tone and an undeniable technique in the way he communicated, it was impossible not to be captivated by his presence.

Your eyes never left him as he glided between the dancers, there was something about Copia, something captivating that drew you in with each step he took. As he drew nearer, you felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest, a blend of excitement and apprehension at his proximity. Averting your gaze, you pretended to focus on your stretches, gripping your calf to hold it up high. But as Copia approached, flashing you an approving smile, you lost your balance, stumbling and landing hard on the floor. With a sharp intake of breath, you felt a twinge of pain shoot through your ankle.

Clutching your ankle with both hands, a sharp intake of breath escaping you as pain shot through your limb. "Fuck!" you exclaimed in a hushed tone as you gritted your teeth against the discomfort.

Copia was at your side in an instant, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow as he assessed the situation. "Are you okay?" he inquired, his hand gently resting on top of yours.

You turned your head to meet Copia's gaze, nodding slightly. "Just... a little pain," you managed to reply.

"Do you think you can stand up?" Copia asked, his other hand coming to rest on your back, offering support.

With a deep breath, you nodded in affirmation, determination setting in despite the throbbing ache in your ankle. "Yes, I guess I can," you replied, steeling yourself for the effort it would take to rise to your feet once more.

Copia extended his hand towards you, with a cautious breath, you released your grip on your injured ankle and reached out for his hand, allowing him to gently guide you to your feet. As you shifted your weight onto your injured leg, a sharp jolt of pain shot through your limb, causing you to wince. Instinctively, you tightened your grip on Copia's hand and he pulled you closer to him, his arm encircling your body to steady you. You swallowed nervously, feeling the tension as your chest pressed against his, feeling the warmth of his body enveloping you as he supported you, keeping you upright.

"Are you sure you are fine?" Copia inquired, his concern evident in the gentle touch of his hands as they slid from yours to your arm.

You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile despite the lingering ache in your ankle. "Yes, yes, I am," you affirmed.

"Come with me," Copia said softly as he turned his body slightly, offering you his arm for support. "To the others, per favore, continue with the warm-up, and once you're all done, I would highly appreciate it if you could start with the practice," he addressed the rest of the dancers, his tone firm yet considerate.

Without hesitation, you leaned into Copia, he wrapped his arm around your waist as he guided you towards the dressing room. With each step, he provided a sense of stability, grounding you amidst the discomfort of your injury. As you reached the door, Copia opened it with a gentle push, allowing you both to enter together. With care, he guided you towards the nearest bench, helping you to lower yourself onto it with a gentle touch.

"Stay here," Copia said softly as he turned his back and walked towards the lockers, disappearing from your sight.

Left alone on the bench, you took a moment to collect your thoughts allowing the tension to seep from your body. How could you have been so easily distracted by him? It didn't make sense. How could you fall during a stretch position you've done countless times before? And all because of a smile? You couldn't shake the feeling of embarrassment over such a simple mistake.

Shaking your head, you chastised yourself for letting your emotions get the best of you. You needed to focus, to regain your composure, and to remember why you were there—to dance.

"I'm sorry for making you wait," Copia said as he returned, with the first-aid kit in one hand and a bag of ice in the other.

Your gaze traced his figure as he knelt before you. He placed the first-aid kit on the bench beside you and with a sense of calm purpose, Copia reached for the lace of your ballet slippers, his movements deft as he untied them. Gently, Copia lifted your foot onto his thigh, cradling it with care as he began to massage your ankle with a practiced touch. The sensation was both soothing and invigorating, the warmth of his hands working to alleviate the pain that had settled deep within your muscles.

"Does it hurt?" Copia asked, his voice soft with concern as he turned his head to look at you, his gaze searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You shook your head slightly. "No, it's not hurting."

Copia nodded, his expression thoughtful as he continued to massage your ankle with gentle, rhythmic movements. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. Each time your eyes met, a blush crept up your cheeks, betraying your efforts to remain composed.

"Good," he murmured, his attention returning to your ankle as he applied a gentle pressure, his fingers working with precision.

Copia carefully placed the ice bag onto your ankle, the cool sensation providing a welcome relief to the throbbing ache. Rising from the floor, he extended his hand towards you. You accepted it, and he guided you gently, turning you so he could sit beside you. As you settled beside you, he placed your foot on his thigh with care. With a gentle touch, he adjusted the bag to ensure it covered the injured area completely.

"Thank you," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced at him.

Copia met your gaze with a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with kindness, "You're welcome. Just relax and let the ice do its work. You'll be back on your feet in no time."

With a nod of acknowledgment, you allowed yourself to relax as Copia retrieved the first-aid kit and placed it on his other thigh. With practiced ease, he opened the kit, his movements methodical as he took stock of its contents. You couldn't help but watch him with a sense of curiosity.

With a gentle smile, Copia glanced up from the kit, meeting your gaze again. "Don't worry," he said softly, his voice calm and steady. "You won't need anything from here, you're taken care of."

“Thank you, Mr. Copia," you said with a grateful smile.

Copia returned your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with warmth as he replied, “Of course."

You chuckled softly, turning your face to glance at your ankle with the ice bag resting on it. “I’m sorry for causing an injury on your second day,” you remarked.

Copia chuckled in response, shaking his head gently. “Don’t be silly,” he said with a reassuring smile. “Accidents happen, and it’s nothing serious. Can you move it for me?"

You shifted your ankle slightly, testing the limits of its mobility, and felt a twinge of pain, but it was bearable, nothing more than a dull ache. "Yes... but it hurts a little."

Copia nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic as he observed your discomfort. "I see," he murmured, his voice gentle. "I'd recommend resting it for a bit and applying ice. It should help alleviate the pain." He reached for the ice bag, adjusting it once more to ensure it was positioned correctly on your ankle.

You blushed. “Thank you for everything... again," you said with a gentle smile.

Copia returned your smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he replied, “It’s my pleasure. I’m glad I could help you.”

The brief pause stretched between you as you both sat in quiet contemplation. Your eyes met Copia’s, locking in a silent exchange. He gave you a small grin, and you mirrored his smile. For a moment, it felt as though your eyes were engaged in a conversation of their own, though you couldn't quite decipher the message behind his gaze.

Copia averted his gaze from yours clearing his throat, breaking the spell that had enveloped the two of you. With a gentle smile, he rose from the bench, carefully placing your foot on the bench.

“I need to go back,” Copia said, turning to you and adjusting the first-aid kit in his hands. “You stay here, keep the ice on your ankle, and whenever you feel better, come back to the studio. But for today, I recommend that you just watch. Which, I don’t think, is a problem for you.”

“What?” you inquired, a hint of frustration in your voice. “Of course it’s a problem. I need to practice too.”

Copia met your gaze with a calm certainty. “From what I’ve seen,” he started, his voice gentle yet firm, “I wouldn’t be worried if I were you.”

As Copia's words echoed inside your mind, you felt a deep blush creeping into your cheeks, the warmth spreading across your face like wildfire. Unable to meet his gaze, you lowered your head, focusing your attention on your injured ankle. All you could see were Copia's feet in front of you. And then, Copia moved away, disappearing from your view as he walked among the lockers.

You bit your lower lip to contain the wide smile that threatened to tug at the corners of your lips as Copia was already back. He stopped in front of the doorway of the dressing room, turning to you. You felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest, your breath catching in your throat.

“Take care of yourself,” he said softly. "I'll be waiting for you out there."

Copia offered you a reassuring smile before turning to open the door, leaving the dressing room. With the soft click of the door closing echoing through the dressing room, you released your lower lip, allowing yourself to smile freely. You weren't entirely sure of the reason behind your smile, but in that moment, it didn't seem to matter and for a few more minutes, you remained seated in the dressing room.

As the ice from the bag began to melt, you knew it was time to go back. Carefully, you removed the ice from your ankle, feeling a sense of relief as the cool sensation dissipated. Placing your foot on the floor, you gingerly tested your weight on the injured leg feeling only a slight discomfort.

Rising from the bench, you reached for your ballet slippers, securing them tightly to your feet, ensuring they were fastened securely before you prepared to return to the studio. Stepping out of the dressing room, you made your way towards the studio, the sound of music and the sight of dancers in motion drawing you closer.

You stood there for a moment, simply observing the dancers as they moved gracefully across the studio floor. But before you could fully immerse yourself in the scene before you, you felt a hand gently touching your back, causing you to jolt in surprise.

Turning around, your eyes met your fellow Romeo, Anton, a warm smile playing at the corners of their lips. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," they said apologetically.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "It's alright," you replied.

"I was wondering where you were," they said, their brows furrowing in concern.

"I had a little accident," you replied, gesturing towards your ankle. "So, I was in the dressing room. Why didn't I see you there?"

"I arrived a bit late again, so I just left my bag in the corner and put my slippers on here," they explained, motioning towards the studio entrance. "What kind of accident did you have?"

"Believe me," you sighed, shaking your head, "it was just me losing my balance."

"I believe you," they chuckled softly. "Are you going to practice today?"

You shook your head, a hint of disappointment in your expression. "The new teacher suggested I just watch today," you replied.

As they nodded understandingly, you watched them make their way back to join the other dancers. With a sigh, you turned and walked to the corner of the studio, finding a seat where you could observe the ongoing practice. As your eyes followed the graceful motions of the dancers, suddenly, your attention was drawn to the front of the studio, where Copia had taken command of the class.

You watched intently as Copia demonstrated each step with precision, his movements fluid and graceful. With a few simple gestures, he corrected their posture and technique, offering words of encouragement and guidance along the way. You were captivated by Copia's teaching style, it was almost breathtaking. It was clear that he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was doing it with a level of mastery that was truly awe-inspiring.

Bringing your legs together, you held them close, wrapping your arms around them as you released a sigh. It was frustrating to be confined to the corner of the studio, relegated to a mere observer while the others practiced under Copia's guidance. But despite the limitations, you found solace in the opportunity to watch, especially him. Your eyes remained fixated on Copia, unable to tear away from his captivating and meticulously coordinated movements.

As you watched him effortlessly glide across the floor, a multitude of questions swirled in your mind. How long had he been dancing? What performances had he choreographed? How many stages had he graced with his presence? How long had he been teaching? And what was it about ballet that he loved so much?

Unable to obtain the answers firsthand and hesitant to ask him directly, you found yourself crafting replies in your mind, imagining what he might say. "Since I was young," he might respond. "The many you can think of," he might continue. "More than I can count," he might add with a smile. "For some years," he might confess. And finally, "The smoothness, the gentleness, and the beauty behind the movements," he might conclude, his voice filled with passion and reverence for the art form.

You couldn't help but chuckle silently, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you pondered what more could you even ask him.

Had dance always been his passion? What drove his creative inspiration? Did he find fulfillment in his role as a ballet teacher? And to those, the replies would likely be affirmative.

Lost in your contemplations as you gazed at him, pondering what his answers might be, you barely noticed as Copia moved away from the dancers, walking backward before turning to reach for his bag, retrieving a bottle from within, then leaned against the wall. His appearance had shifted since he first entered the studio earlier. The once meticulously styled locks of his hair were now slightly disheveled, strands falling across his face in an artfully tousled manner.

There was something about the way his hair fell across his face, the way his breath quickened ever so slightly—it was mesmerizing, captivating. But just as Copia's eyes seemed to turn in your direction, Anton, your friend from the studio, sidled up beside you, blocking your view. His presence broke the spell, pulling you back to reality with a jolt.

"Hey there!" Anton greeted cheerfully. "What are you thinking of?"

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by his sudden appearance. "Thinking of...?" you replied, momentarily confused. "About what?"

"The dance," Anton clarified, gesturing toward the dancers in the middle of the studio. "I noticed you were watching."

"Oh, right," you nodded, quickly catching on. "Yes, yes, very good."

Anton chuckled, settling himself on the floor beside you. "So, what do you think of the routine?" he asked, his eyes bright with enthusiasm as he watched the dancers in the center of the studio.

"It's impressive," you replied, tearing your gaze away from the dancers to focus on Anton. "They're really giving it their all."

"Yeah, definitely," Anton agreed, nodding in agreement. "I can't wait for our turn to perform as Romeo and Juliet. It's going to be epic."

You smiled. "I know, right? It's going to be incredible."

Anton turned to you, his expression growing more serious. "Hey, how's your ankle feeling?" he asked, his tone filled with genuine concern.

You sighed, shifting slightly to relieve the discomfort in your injured ankle. "It's still a bit sore, but it's manageable."

Anton nodded. "Well, if you're up for it after the class, we could practice our parts together," he suggested. "I don't have anything planned for today, and I'd be more than happy to help you out."

"That would be amazing, Anton," you replied. "Thank you."

Anton grinned, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes. "Great! It's a plan, then. But only if you're feeling up to it, of course."

You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Of course. Let's do it, yeah."

"Alright," Anton said, springing up in a swift motion. "I'll head back there, and you stay here."

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I don't have anywhere else to be, Anton."

With a wave in your direction, Anton made his way back to the center of the studio, joining the other dancers as they prepared to resume their practice. Left alone once more, you settled back against the wall. However, your solitude didn't last long. Just as Anton vanished among the other dancers, out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Copia making his way toward you, his steps purposeful but unhurried. Your heart quickened its pace as he drew nearer, prompting you to straighten your posture in an attempt to appear nonchalant, as if his approach hadn't caught your attention.

"How are you feeling?" Copia's voice reached your ears as he stopped beside you, his presence palpable despite your attempt to feign indifference.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Copia," you greeted him with a gentle smile, turning your head to acknowledge him. "I'm fine."

"Are you really?" he inquired, settling down beside you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, his eyes searching yours.

"Yes, really," you confirmed, mustering a confident smile. "Just a minor mishap, nothing serious."

Copia regarded you for a moment longer, his expression softening. "Good to hear," he said, offering a supportive squeeze to your shoulder before withdrawing his hand.

As you sat together against the wall, a comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the distant sounds of the dancers' movements. Eventually, Copia broke the quiet with a gentle clearing of his throat.

"So, tell me," he began, his tone warm and inviting. "How long have you been dancing?"

"I... I've been dancing since I was a kid," you admitted, feeling a flutter of nerves at the thought of sharing your experiences with him. "What about you?"

Copia chuckled softly. "Likewise," he replied, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "And how many times have you been on the stage?"

"Since I was a kid? Countless times," you replied with a nervous laugh. "I've lost track, to be honest."

Copia's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. "Impressive," he remarked, his admiration evident in his expression. "And have you ever had the opportunity to dance as the lead performer?"

You shook your head. "No, this is actually my first time," you confessed, your voice tinged with excitement and apprehension.

Copia's gaze softened with understanding. "I must say, I'm even more impressed than before," he said sincerely. "You're a natural talent."

Your cheeks flushed as you stumbled over your words, feeling a pang of embarrassment at your sudden openness. "T-Thank you," you managed to stammer out. "And you are a very good teacher."

Copia's laughter rang out softly, a warm twinkle in his eyes. "Eh, but I only arrived yesterday," he replied modestly.

"But I saw what you were doing out there, and that was definitely impressive. It feels like you have always been here," you replied, turning your gaze towards the group of dancers. "You showed confidence and passion, and your guidance is so gentle. It's... inspiring."

A gentle smile tugged at the corners of Copia's lips as he listened to your words, his hand finding its way to yours, his touch warm and comforting. "Inspiring...?" he prompted softly, his gaze unwavering as he waited for your response.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes with him, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. Your pulse thrummed in your ears, you knew you had to say something, but your mind raced.

With a shaky breath, you summoned your courage. "How long have you been teaching?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Copia's laughter filled the air once more as he ran a hand through his hair, his expression thoughtful. "Hmm, let's see... I believe I started when I was around 25 or 27," he mused.

"Do you enjoy being a teacher?" you inquired, genuine curiosity shining in your eyes.

Copia nodded thoughtfully, a faint smile gracing his lips. "I do," he affirmed. "It's... fulfilling. Inspiring others and helping them grow, it's somehow magical."

"It must be amazing to see your students progress," you remarked.

Copia's expression softened, a hint of pride glinting in his eyes. "Absolutely," he agreed. "Watching them finding their potential is one of the most gratifying feelings in the world of teaching."

"Even when they get hurt?" you pressed, lifting your foot slightly to indicate your sore ankle.

Copia approached you, his touch gentle yet firm as he carefully guided your leg back down. "Even when they get hurt," he affirmed with a nod, his gaze unwavering. "Because is an opportunity for growth, is a chance to learn and become stronger."

As Copia withdrew his hand from your leg, a soft sigh escaped your lips, the absence of his touch leaving a lingering warmth in its wake. Your eyes remained locked on each other's, and you felt a palpable tension building between you. Just as you were about to speak, a dancer's voice pierced the air, calling out for Copia's attention. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from yours, shifting his focus to the dancers on the studio floor.

"One minute," Copia responded, addressing the dancer. Then, his attention returned to you, his eyes meeting yours once more. "If you need anything, let me know, sì?" he added, his tone soft and reassuring.

As Copia placed his hand on your knee, giving it a reassuring grip, you offered a nod. Watching him rise and walk towards the dancer who had called him, you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Closing your eyes briefly, you pondered the strange emotions swirling within you. There was no denying that Copia possessed a certain charm, and his gentle demeanor had undoubtedly left an impression on you. However, as you reflected on the burgeoning connection between the two of you, you couldn't help but wonder why it was happening.

As the class continued, you pushed aside the tentative attempts to find an answer to your swirling emotions. After all, dwelling on it wouldn't provide any concrete answers. Instead, you decided to simply embrace the small excitement bubbling within you.

Despite your efforts to distract yourself by watching Anton practice with the other dancers, you couldn’t shake the feeling of someone’s gaze on you. It was a persistent sensation, tugging at the edge of your consciousness as you focused on the movements before you. Every now and then, you stole a glance in Copia’s direction, only to find him already looking back at you, offering you a discreet, small smile that sent a flutter through your heart.

With the class neared its end, everyone, including Copia, gathered together, exchanging words of gratitude and encouragement for the day's practice. Despite your inability to participate fully due to your injury, you rose from your spot and made your way over to the group, eager to express your appreciation for the rehearsal.

As the group quieted down, Copia's voice resonated through the studio. "Everyone," he began. "I'd like to express my heartfelt thanks to each and every one of you for welcoming me here today. I'm truly excited to continue guiding you all in the days leading up to our performance."

A round of appreciative applauses rippled through the group as they nodded in agreement. As the applause subsided, you made your way closer to Anton, standing by his side as you both. With a smile, you exchanged a glance with Anton, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a side hug.

"Heh... Grazie, grazie," Copia's eyes traveled over each dancer in the group, eventually meeting yours. "You're all dismissed," he announced, his tone and demeanor shifting slightly. "We will see each other tomorrow."

With that, the dancers began to disperse, chatting and laughing as they made their way out of the studio. You noticed Copia’s gaze lingered a little longer on you before he turned toward the corner of the room where his bag was. Anton released you from the side hug and turned to you, a smile still lingering on his lips.

"Need me to grab your bag?" Anton asked, stretching his back and glancing in your direction. "That way, we can head out as soon as we're ready."

"Yeah, that'd be great," you replied gratefully. "Thanks, Anton."

"Sure thing. I'll be back in a second," he said before heading off to the dressing room with the rest of the dancers.

Having spent hours seated in the corner, it was time to redo your warm-up. You turned towards the mirrors, using them not only to guide your stretches but also to keep an eye on Copia as he remained nearby by his bag. As you stretched, your gaze periodically flickered towards Copia, noting his movements as he removed his slippers and set them neatly beside his bag. You couldn’t help but admire the way he carried himself, even in such simple actions.

Resolute in your determination to concentrate on your warm-up, you averted your gaze from Copia, ensuring no further distractions could impede your progress. With the memory of your recent injury still vivid in your mind, you couldn't afford to be careless. Instead, you focused intently on your stretching routine, lifting your leg and grasping the palm of your foot to hold it up high, maintaining the pose.

"What are you doing?" Copia's voice broke the silence, drawing your attention to the corner where he stood, already dressed in sweatpants with his bag slung over his shoulder.

You released your foor and turned toward him, momentarily taken aback by his sudden inquiry. "I'm... warming up...?" you replied, a hint of uncertainty in your tone.

"Warming up?" he echoed, furrowing his brows in confusion.

"Yes," you confirmed, nodding. "I want to practice, even if it's just a little."

Copia approached you, his expression filled with concern. "But what about your ankle?" he pressed, crossing his arms. "Are you sure you're not pushing yourself too hard?"

"I'm not pushing myself too hard, Mr. Copia," you assured him with a soft smile. "I promise I won't practice for too long, but after watching everyone else dancing while I sat in the corner..." You sighed. "I just want to practice a little."

Copia regarded you for a moment, his brows furrowed in concern. "Alright," he relented with a sigh. "But take it easy, okie dokie? Don't overexert yourself."

"Thank you, Mr. Copia. I'll be careful."

Copia took a step back and placed his bag near the mirrors, clasping his hands together. He then returned to where you were standing. "What are you planning to practice?" he inquired.

You chuckled. "I'm thinking maybe something simple."

"Anything specific in mind?" he pressed.

"Well, I was considering the Balcony scene," you confessed.

"The Balcony scene?" he echoed, intrigued. "But that's meant to be performed by a pair."

"I know," you giggled. "An—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Copia interjected. "Do you want me to stay? I can practice it with you," he offered. "I'm familiar with Conti's work and the steps. Plus, I can be here to guide you and provide some assistance if you need it because of your ankle."

"Mr. Copia—"

Anton interjected you this time as he returned to the studio, carrying your bag on his shoulder. "I'm back, oh, Juliet, I'm sorry for making thee wait," Anton chimed in, playfully mocking you with a Shakespearean flair.

"Ah, Romeo, thou art back," you replied with a grin, matching Anton's playful tone. "Thy tardiness doth not trouble me, for 'tis a pleasure to await thee."

Anton let out a hearty laugh as he set your bag down on the floor and strolled over to where you were, spotting Copia standing nearby. "Ah, Mr. Copia, hey sir! Will you be watching us during our practice?"

Copia hesitated for a moment before responding, "Uh... Sì, certainly."

Anton nodded and turned to you, offering his hand with a gallant flourish. You accepted it, allowing him to lead you to the center of the studio. With a graceful twirl, he positioned you facing the mirror, his hands resting gently on your hips as he stood behind you. As your eyes met in the reflection, you couldn't help but notice Copia still lingering in the corner, his gaze averted. A flicker of something passed over his features before he turned and walked closer to the mirrors.

"Do you both need the music?" he inquired, crossing his arms as he stood before you.

"No, I don't think so," Anton replied, glancing down at you for confirmation.

"We're good," you affirmed with a nod.

"Perfetto," Copia declared. "Begin."

Anton's steady hands supported you, guiding your movements as with a gentle push from your leg, you gracefully ascended, floating momentarily in the air before being lowered back to the ground. Anton lead you through steps of the dance, his movements synchronized with yours as you swayed and twirled across the studio floor. With each motion, he held you close, his arms providing both support and stability.

As you lay upon Anton's shoulders, your eyes met Copia's, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of scrutiny in his gaze, as if he were analyzing every step and movement with keen observation. Undeterred, you remained focused. You executed each step with precision and finesse, your movements flowing seamlessly from one to the next. As the dance reached its climax, Anton spun you gracefully, your body moving with effortless grace as you neared the ground.

With a final flourish, Anton gently caught you in his arms. With every encounter, he held you close, lifting you, spinning you, and gently laying you in his arms. You danced with grace and poise, your every motion imbued with emotion as you portrayed Juliet's longing and desire. Each time Anton lifted you, spun you, or held you close, you enacted the chemistry between you two.

As you faced Copia once more, you noticed his unwavering gaze, his eyes following your every move with keen observation. His expression remained unchanged, but you sensed a hint of intrigue in his demeanor as he watched you dance.

When Anton let go of you, you danced around him until you met him again, and he greeted you with a raised hand, spinning you until you slowly leaned over him. However, the sound of a ringing phone suddenly echoed in the studio, breaking the spell of the dance, Anton gently placed you back on the ground and rose from the floor, his attention diverted by the interruption.

"I'm sorry," Anton apologized, walking towards his bag to retrieve his phone from inside.

As Anton answered the call, the studio fell into an eerie silence, the only sound being Anton's voice as he spoke into his phone. You and Copia stole glances at each other, communicating silently through shared expressions. Anton's voice filled the room, muffled yet audible, as he spoke earnestly into the phone, his expression shifting from concern to reassurance and back again. You couldn't help but watch him.

After some minutes, Anton ended the call and hung up the phone. He made his way back to you, his steps purposeful yet gentle. Taking your hands in his, he looked at you with a warm smile.

"I'm sorry about that," he said softly, squeezing your hands reassuringly. "But I'm here now. Shall we continue?"

"Anton, is everything alright?" you asked, concerned.

"Yes," he responded, but then hesitated, shaking his head. "No, actually..."

"It's okay, Anton. We can practice tomorrow," you reassured him.

"But I promised we could do it after class, and if I leave now, I'll feel terrible about it," he explained, looking conflicted.

You giggled, gently releasing his hands and placing yours on his face. "I don't know what's going on, and you don't have to tell me right now. But go, take care of whatever it is."

Anton looked torn, his gaze flickering between you and his bag. "But I don't want to leave you here alone," he protested softly.

You smiled reassuringly, cupping his face in your hands. "I'll be fine, Anton. Whatever it is, it sounds important. Go take care of it, and we'll practice another time."

Reluctantly, Anton nodded. "Thank you," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Anton made his way back to his bag, taking it. Before he left, he gave you a final look and then, walked away. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, but you knew that his well-being came first. Turning back to Copia, you found him watching you with a thoughtful expression, his eyes reflecting something. With a small smile, you nodded at him.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Mr. Copia," you apologized, feeling a bit flustered. "You're free to go if you need to."

Copia shook his head as he approached you. "No need to apologize," he reassured you. "How's your ankle holding up?"

Glancing down at your leg, you responded, "It's actually feeling much better. I'm not in any pain."

"Bene," he nodded, then made his way back to his bag. "But I'm afraid I can't leave."

Confused, you asked, "Why not?"

"Because you haven't finished your practice, sì?" he pointed out.

"No, I haven't," you admitted, feeling confusion and anticipation. "But I'm not... Why?"

Copia settled onto the floor, retrieving his slippers from his bag and slipping them on. Then, he shed his sweatpants, leaving them in a heap on the ground as he approached you. Your cheeks flushed with warmth, feeling a nervous excitement building within you as he stood before you, extending his hand.

"Should we finish the dance," he began, his voice soft. "Giulietta?"

With a hesitant nod, you extended your hand towards him. Copia, with a gentle smile, knelt before you, taking your hand in his with a tender grip. His eyes met yours and you gracefully began to move around him, your movements fluid. As you completed the circle and faced him once more, you lifted your leg slowly, trusting in Copia's firm hold on your hand.

Turning away from him, you felt Copia's hands finding your waist, guiding you with a gentle yet assured touch. Together, you both arched your backs, moving in perfect synchrony. With a smooth twirl, Copia brought you back to face him, and you leaned in.

As you leaned closer, you could feel the warmth of Copia's body. Your faces were mere inches apart until Copia gently pulled you back, maintaining a delicate distance between you. You posed momentarily before starting to lean your body onto his again, your faces meeting once more.

With each movement, the tension between you grew palpable, and the chemistry between you and Copia started to be undeniable. As he pulled you took a step back, feeling his fingertips trail from your waist to your thighs. Copia rose to his feet, reaching out for your hand as he began to walk backward. With a small jump, you allowed him to catch you, twirling with you in his arms before gently setting you back on the floor.

Your heart raced as you anticipated the next part. With Copia coming after you, you extended your arm behind you, feeling his grasp on your hand as he closed the distance between you.

As his hand found your waist, he pulled you closer, your eyes locking in a silent exchange. Copia's face drew nearer, and you held your breath, knowing that the moment of the kiss was imminent. Your heartbeat quickened as he leaned in, but instead of closing the gap, he lingered mere inches from your lips, his touch light as he pressed his fingers over your skin.

With a gentle twirl, he shifted his hand from your waist to the back of your head, his gaze wavering between your lips and your eyes. Surrendering to the pull of his embrace, you leaned back, trusting in the strength of his hold. As he drew his face nearer to yours, every nerve in your body alive with the electric thrill of proximity. Copia's presence enveloped you, the tension between you grew. But before the tension could reach its peak before he finally released you, allowing you to step away.

As Copia stood there, a brief silence enveloped the studio. Slowly, you began to step away from him, your eyes locked in a poignant exchange. In that moment, you felt a deep resonance with Juliet, longing to return to the embrace of Romeo. With each step you took, the distance between you widened, yet the connection remained palpable. You couldn't tear your gaze away from his, the intensity of the moment holding you captive. It was as if time stood still, suspended in the space between you.

Feeling the cool surface of the wall against your back, you took a moment to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling with each rapid inhalation. Beside you, Copia mirrored your stance, his own breathing mirroring the rhythm of yours as you both stood in silent.

With a deep exhale, you tore your gaze away from Copia, letting your eyes drift upward to the ceiling. When you returned your gaze to Copia, you found him already at his bag, slipping off his slippers. Taking a cue from him, you made your way to your own bag, retrieving your belongings and beginning to dress in silence.

As you finished dressing, you slung your bag over your shoulder and made your way towards the door. You both reached the door simultaneously, causing him to look at you with a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. With a graceful gesture, Copia pushed the door open and gestured for you to pass through first.

You exchanged a nod of acknowledgment with Copia as you stepped out of the studio, feeling his presence beside you. He closed the door behind you and turned the key, ensuring it was securely locked. With a shared glance, you both began to walk, the echoes of your footsteps filling the quiet space.

"Eh," he began, "You are... talented. Very talented."

"Thank you," you replied, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. "Coming from you, that means a lot."

Copia scratched the back of his head, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, I mean it," he said softly. "You have a natural grace, a real talent."

You smiled, feeling your cheeks flush in response. "I appreciate that, really."

Copia shifted slightly, his gaze momentarily flickering away before returning to meet yours. "I, uh, enjoyed dancing with you," he admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of shyness.

"I did too," you confessed, a soft smile gracing your lips. "You’re an incredible partner and you're very talented too, Mr. Copia."

A faint blush dusted Copia’s cheeks as he nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I’m glad to hear that," he murmured.

As you both approached the front door of the studio, a brief pause ensued, each of you hesitating, unsure of who should open the door first to exit.

Copia cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Well, uh, I should get going," he said, shifting his weight slightly.

"Yeah, me too," you agreed.

Copia offered you a warm smile before graciously opening the door, allowing you to exit first. As you stepped outside, he followed closely behind, holding the door until you were safely out. A nod and a small wave were exchanged between you before he turned to leave. You watched him go, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind. Suddenly, Copia paused and glanced back over his shoulder, catching your gaze. With a final wave, he bid you farewell before continuing on his way. You returned the gesture before hurrying off in the opposite direction.

Grammar

Ciao, buonasera a tutti - Hello, good evening everyone

Magia - Magic

Energia - Energy

Non c'è bisogno di preoccuparsi - There's no need to worry

Romeo e Giulietta, sì? - Romeo and Juliet, yes?

Tuttavia - However

Perfetto - Perfect

Molto Bene - Very well

Eccellente - Excellent

Giulietta - Juliet

Piacere di conoscerti - Nice to meet you

Per favore - Please

Bene - Well

Va bene, tutti - Okay, everyone

Grazie - Thank you

Bellissima - Very beautiful

Sono impressionato - I am impressed

Procediamo - Let's proceed

Bravissimi, tutti - Very well done, everyone

Magnifico - Magnificent

Bravi, tutti - Well done, everyone

Bravissimi tutti! Ci vediamo domani - Very well done, everyone! See you tomorrow

Forse - Maybe

#cardinal copia #my ovaries #the band ghost #copia #i need him

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