Spinning Out✔️

47. In These Arms

Luna's POV
Wednesday, August 25th (2 days till we leave for competition)

I had one more class left to teach before leaving. My hair was tightly pulled into a bun because I didn't have any time to get it braided. And there were only 2 days left.

I was fucking freaking out. Our last rehearsal was tomorrow and I was seriously losing my mind. I wasn't confident about my solo and even though Jax and I had finally picked out a song, I still was nervous about our duet.

And I was nervous about us.

My anxiety was through the roof and my medication wasn't helping. I wasn't sleeping and I was overly aware of any little sound.

I needed a break.

"Hey."

My shoulders lifted and I shrank back, startled by a hand on my shoulder. Turning around and staring wide-eyed, I looked at Jax.

We were right outside one of the practice rooms. I was teaching juniors today and we were starting in 10 minutes.

I physically calmed and Jax took a step closer, looking down at me. The smile on his face faded, and his green eyes zeroed in on me.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

I pulled at the strap of my dance bag and smiled half-heartedly. "Nothing...I got a class to get to, but I'll see you later ok?"

I took a step back and turned, realizing we were the only ones in the hallway. You could still hear the music from different rooms vibrating against the walls and the sound of children laughing and talking.

Different posters covered the walls, all advertising for different classes. There was one of all of the senior dance troop and the date of our competition with the location. I knew a bunch of my students who already had purchased tickets.

So many people were coming and I didn't want to let anyone down.

I felt a tug on my fingers and I peered over my shoulders at Jax.

His eyes were speculative and searching. His hand went to my cheek and he brushed his thumb over my skin. "You're crying."

I blinked and furrowed my brow, touching underneath my eyes. Huh, I was?

"I'm fine," I reassured him, knowing he was going to start asking questions.

Wearing a long-sleeve blue shirt and black shorts, he took a step closer looking directly down at me. Lifting my head to look up at him, the light of the hallway covered us in fluorescent white.
He dropped his hands away from my face and placed them on my shoulders, slowly moving them down my arms and back up.

"Let me help you," he said softly, cracking at my rigidity.

"The class is only 45 minutes," I said sounding drowsy. He kept soothing me, making me feel sleepy and comforted.

"Just let me assist you," he whispered with a grave voice. The sound of it made goosebumps spread along my bare skin.

I had to snap myself out of it. I was attached to his smell, his presence, his touch...

I had to stop...we had to stop.

I pulled from his grasp, giving me enough space to think straight.

He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets, straightening. I could see the resolve on his face. He knew what I was doing. I did it often.

I hated myself for it, but I knew that I had to.

His jaw hardened and I looked at his chest, not wanting to look him in the eyes.

I scratched the back of my hair, loosening a tangled curl.