#I’m an English instructor and even I have at least one white girl a semester who wants to write about serial killers
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will graham is a fake-ass teacher not once do we see that bitch preparing a powerpoint or grading students’ shitty hot takes on serial killers
#I’m an English instructor and even I have at least one white girl a semester who wants to write about serial killers#if I have to suffer through it so should he
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Devil and the Dancer: Chapter 8
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CHAPTER 8
Manon and Asterin left the next morning, and Elide barely bothered to get out of bed for their departure. It seemed that Asterin was much less reluctant to leave knowing that Elide had at least left the apartment, and she dragged Manon along with her. All three of them were incredibly groggy after spending a night watching various movies that they found on Netflix, but Elide hadn’t been happier in a while. Things finally felt normal, or at least as normal as they could feel without Pointe shoes on her feet.
When she’d finally pulled herself from her toasty bed into the kitchen, poured herself an English breakfast tea and fried an egg, she checked her phone. There were three texts, one from Manon and Asterin each, wishing her a happy new year and telling her they missed her already (the latter was infinitely more apparent in Asterin’s text), and one from an unknown number.
Norvelle Center, 4 pm
Elide smiled, knowing the text was from Lorcan. She peeked at the clock, hoping four was much closer than it seemed. It was only noon. Elide sighed. Well… maybe if she took an extra long shower and blow-dried her hair and put on real clothes for a change, there wouldn’t be much more waiting after all that.
She showered for so long that the hot water ran out, which Elide noticed with a shriek as she frantically washed the conditioner out of her hair. Her blow drier was broken, so she spent close to half an hour searching for Asterin’s (which she found under the sink). Most of Elide’s clothes were dirty since she’d been too lazy to dump them in the washing machine the cousins had gotten at the beginning of the year. She ended up wriggling into a pair of old leggings that she’d mostly forgotten about, or thought she’d lost, briefly mourning the fact that they were slightly tighter than they had been the last time she’d worn them, and slipped on a white shirt that fell a quarter of the way down her thighs and hung off her body.
Elide glanced back at the clock again, and cursed loudly to herself. It was already 3:50, and it took at least 15 minutes to walk across campus to Norvelle, the performing arts center. She yanked on a pair of sneakers and grabbed a sweatshirt, forgetting to lock the door as she ran downstairs. Much to her chagrin, it was snowing buckets outside. Elide groaned and jogged back up the stairs, exchanging her tennis shoes for a pair of fake Uggs she’d bought a couple of years ago, and throwing on a down coat over her sweatshirt. She contemplated a hat, but pulled up the hood of her sweatshirt instead, this time locking the door as she left.
3:55. She could make it, if she ran. Elide clenched her lips together and started jogging across campus, her hands tucked into her pockets. Her hair kept falling in her face, but she didn’t really care.
Elide didn’t know why it was so important to her to meet Lorcan on time, but it was, and she’d be damned if she didn’t try her hardest to make it happen.
She made it to the Norvelle center in what was probably record time: seven minutes and fifty-two seconds. She’d only slipped once, but caught herself before she hit the ground and continued running. Elide was still late to meet Lorcan, but only by a few minutes. She was sure her hair was sticking to the back of her neck and she looked like an absolute wreck, but as she walked into the Norvelle center, she finally felt like she belonged there again.
The music cascading out from Lorcan’s studio was slow, no pulsing beat behind it. She slid the door open and saw a group of what looked to be pre-teens stretching. She couldn’t help the smile that slid across her face when she saw Lorcan leading the group. She kicked off her shoes and went to sit by him, not saying a word but pulling her legs into a middle split and stretching forward. Thankfully, Asterin and Manon had forced her to stretch daily, even after her ankle. Manon had told her it would make her stronger, but Asterin just wiggled her eyebrows and said that flexibility wasn’t only good for ballet.
Lorcan touched one of the hands she had spread out in front of her briefly, but recoiled as if it hand burned him. Elide did her best not to be upset. She turned her head and smiled at him, then sat up to pull her hair into a bun. She pulled it tight, like she would have for ballet, and was almost relieved by the feeling, her skin seeming to pull tighter over her face. She felt a tug at the back of her neck and looked over to see Lorcan holding a strand of her hair that she’d left out. She blushed a little, though she didn’t know why, and took the hair from him, fitting it into her bun before she tied it with two ponytail holders.
He stood abruptly, and Elide followed suit, brushing off the back of her leggings. He went to change the music and Elide leaned up against the mirror.
“Okay, circle up. Five minutes of freestyle, you know the drill. Try something new, try something together. Everyone goes in.” The kids did as they were told, and once the music started one of them hopped into the center of the circle, popping and locking and whatever else hip-hop entailed. Lorcan came to stand by her.
“You look,” he coughed, “very nice.”
Elide scoffed.
“Lorcan, I’m essentially wearing pajamas.”
“Well, it looks good,” he snapped. Elide was silent for a moment.
“Thank you.” More silence as they watched the kids. She heard Lorcan open his mouth to speak, but close it again. She drummed her fingers against her thigh.
“So, I was thinking,” Lorcan started.
“That’s a first,” she said, grinning. He rolled his eyes. It made him look younger for some reason.
“I was thinking,” he continued, “that you could do some barre with them.” His voice tilted upwards at the end, like a question. Elide’s eyes narrowed and darkened, her whole body going rigid.
“No, thank you,” she said quietly. He inched closer to her, so that she could feel his arm against hers. He looked over at her and Elide felt the weight of his gaze firmly on her face.
“These kids don’t get ballet, most of them. The classes are even more expensive than what I overcharge for this one.”
“I can’t, Lorcan.”
“You can’t be en Pointe. But did the doctor say anything about a simple barre class? It’s probably good for you. The second anything hurts, you can stop, no questions asked.”
“Lorcan—“ She said, letting out a breath.
“Please,” he mumbled, brushing her hand, which was lying against the glass of the mirror, with his. She looked over at him, looking up into his eyes.
“I’m not a very good teacher. You’ll regret this,” she said, pushing herself off from the mirror just as the music cut off.
The kids folded off into two lines once the music stopped. For a hip-hop instructor, Lorcan had trained them well.
“I’m Elide.”
“We know,” said one of the girls. She was smaller than the others, her hair bright red. Elide raised an eyebrow. “Lorcan told us about you.” She shrugged. Elide turned around to give Lorcan a suspicious look. He looked away, though she thought she saw the tip of his ear turn just a little pinker. She smiled a little and turned back to the kids.
“Alright, then. Three barres, four to each.”
~
Lorcan handed her her coat once class was over, shooing the kids out the door as he slid his own shoes on.
“Thank you. For making me come.” Lorcan smiled faintly and nodded.
“They liked it, no matter how much they complained.” She chuckled faintly, scuffing one of her boots against the floor.
“I’m glad you texted.”
“I’m glad you came. You’re welcome to any of my classes, all three of them. I might pick up a fourth when the semester starts, but we’ll see. It’s not like anyone is coming to office hours anymore, so I’ll have a lot of free time—“
“No, you won’t.” He looked up at her.
“Why not?”
“You’ll be hanging out with me, loser. I thought you promised to teach me how to hip-hop?”
“I did no such thing. And don’t say it like that, it sounds weird.” Elide laughed and slung her coat on.
“I’ll see you soon, then.”
“Do you want to get dinner?” Elide turned to face Lorcan.
“It’s a little early, don’t you think?” He shrugged.
“Better for the metabolism.” She laughed again, and Lorcan smiled faintly, the most she thought he’d ever give her.
“Alright.”
“Alright?”
“Yes, but I’m picking the place.”
“Lead the way,” he said. Elide didn’t look behind her to see the open-mouthed grin he had plastered on his face, lighting up even the darkest corners of the world.
#fic#devil and the dancer#elorcan#elorcan fanfiction#throne of glass fanfiction#throne of glass#mine
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