Poise and Poison

i

It wasn't a secret to anyone that Louis Tomlinson didn't talk much. In fact, most people in the class had not heard a single word come out of his mouth for the entire three months he'd been in the class. Attending one of the most prestigious arts schools in the world surprised people how to himself he was. Everyone had seemed to find their clique in uni. 

Including Louis. But he never walked with anyone in the halls, he was known to stay after his dance class and work on a dance of his own. Normally, it was too late for anyone to stay and watch him without getting caught. Louis was graceful on his feet, as being one of the only males in his ballet class.

 It wasn't only his dance people watched in awe of. He himself was graceful, every step seemed properly planned. The way he spoke, the way he laughed, simply awed everyone. When he did speak, he had a very soft tone, never raised his voice or never needed to frankly. He was unaware of it however, as a humble boy, truly he didn't need to know.

His icy blue eyes cascaded around the room as he planned in his mind the places he was to plie and where he needed to do what he did best. His proper attire for this class was a gray hoodie, his black joggers and his black leather ballet shoes. The participants in the class and some watched from outside the classroom to simply catch a glimpse of the graceful boy. All watching in sheer anticipation. The orchestral music began and the dancer was on the floor. 

All eyes were on his movement, as he landed every assemble and pirouette he set off to do. Louis was completely focused on making it look easy, as for him, it came easier, but never the slightest bit easy.

Louis began to improvise a bit of his movements, letting his body move and react to the crescendo of the orchestra playing. Without knowledge of the dancer, more people had lined up around the tinted windows connected to the hallway, watching. 

Most of the students were completely aware of his improvising, baffled at how planned it looked, how effortlessly he moved. The trumpets blasted through the speakers, his head rolled back as he landed the perfect sauté. Earning a few cheers which were quickly hushed by the teacher. Truthfully, the students really didn't mean to interrupt, just way too into the dance.

Louis ignored the slight distraction and continued with his performance.

 However if the mild disruption wasn't enough, his eye caught a person just at the end of his performance. Instead of landing the developpe, his leg somewhat buckled a bit. 

He played it off by adding another movement of his leg, but he was sure that his teacher had seen. In frustration, he turned to face the boy person who'd distracted him.

It was a boy, he was tall and had a sly smirk across his face, looking straight at the ballerino. Louis huffed ever so slightly, averting his harsh gaze towards his teacher, who then led the class and hallway into a round of great applause. A small smile crept onto Louis' face as he listened to the applause, frowning once again upon seeing the tall boy clapping as well. Louis pranced off the wood floor and over to the secluded corner where he always sits.

Louis had danced nearly all his life, it was his way of talking when he didn't feel like it (which seemed to be quite often). He loved everything about the sport, around his room in his apartment, the walls were neatly littered with pictures of his favorite ballerinas and dancers. 

It was a feeling he couldn't describe. Weightless. Unstoppable when his leather clothed feet hit the wood floor. Upon a few little shelves were a few of his favorite shoes he'd worn. The first time he was able to wear pointe shoes, they were pink (rather dusted now) and the toe boxes of the shoe were still sturdy. He would be lying if he said he didn't try them on every once in a while.