The Armor (Prince Harry fanfic #1)

Chapter Sixteen

"Yes."

Lucy's hand slid into his hand, and he clasped around her. He was hot and still she was cold, and she rocked back before being led off by him. One foot in front of the other brought them close to the circle, which neither of them dared to enter. The whole time, like an elegant dance, Harry held Lucy's hand high, equal with her.

Touching her hand was different, Harry realized. Lucy wasn't petite, and her hand didn't slide in and out of his hand with ease. Her knuckles were cracked and her skin was crusted in dirt. Her wrist popped for a second as she rolled it to feel again. A scar covered her wrist, like a slash, not matching the other scars. His thumb wanted to reach out and touch it, running over the ridge. There were small scars across her knuckles, only a few, and he recognized them quickly. He had the same small scars that came along with beating someone's face in.

Harry's eyes only glanced over at Lucy as the crowd formed around her. She could've been a princess, if she wanted to be, he decided. They could dress her up and show her off, if she let them. He had no doubts that she would fight against them. She was grace.

The music played loud and vociferous, calling up to the sky. The slums rocked to the music. Lucy was tense, but Harry didn't let go. She didn't move to the music well, only pumping on her knees slightly, up and down. Her head bobbed slowly. Her eyes moved throughout the crowd, but they focused on him eventually. He wanted to ask what she looked for, maybe an escape came to his mind. The loud music shifted quickly, allowing Harry to breathe but the music turned into an even and slow tone.

Harry and Lucy were forced to watch the surroundings, deciding on how they should dance. Other couples had moved together, so they weren't kicked out of the dancing circle, but they were forced to join the movement. Harry made the first move, taking her right hand and putting it up in the air, while his left hand took Lucy's other hand and slipped it onto his shoulder, only for his left hand to rest on her waist. Her eyes focused on him for a second, measuring him, and then she continued with the dancing.

"Have you ever danced like this?" He was even with her, eye-level, different than his other life.

"With a boy?" she asked, a smile rested on her face.

Harry laughed internally. Maybe he meant it that way, when curiosity hit him like a truck. "A waltz," he corrected.

"So formal, Prince Charming, but of course you waltz." She flipped her hair back. "But, yes, I've danced the waltz before. Though, I think I beat the girls at my old school because I'm dancing with a guy who actually knows how to dance."

He laughed. "This is one of the few dances. It's pretty simple."

"Really?"

He shrugged. "I can make it more difficult."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Do you think you can keep up?"

"That's cute."

Harry took that as a challenge, grabbing a hold of Lucy a little tighter, but she didn't fight him. The normal one-two-three-four movement stayed but was transformed with the mix of larger steps and a twist that came here and there. They moved to the middle of the crowd. Lucy went with Harry, never hesitating or tripping over her own feet. She twirled with ease, in and out, and if she played the part, everyone would love her. At some points, Harry felt Lucy pulling at him slightly, fighting over who got to lead. He thought about allowing her to lead but they paused within the middle.

"Where did you learn to dance?" Harry asked.

Her cheeks turned slightly pink. This was the first time she was embarrassed. "I used to dance."

"What happened?" The words slipped out with curiosity before he stopped himself. Lucy, however, was used to it.

"Lots of things." Absentmindedly, off in her own mind, her thumb ran across his cheek, like she wiped something off of him. She stopped herself quickly, and Harry hadn't minded when she touched him. "Is it a Prince Charming thing to know how to dance?"

"It is expected." He sighed. "They were terrible dance lessons. I've always been a terrible dancer. I have two left feet, and I cannot keep a beat to save my life. There were so many times where I just wanted to scream in frustration. I was screamed at a lot when I was younger for stepping on girls' feet. I'm surprised I didn't hurt you here." Harry almost hurt himself with the last words but Lucy didn't even care.

"It's pretty hard to hurt me." She sighed, eyeing her own scars. "Why don't we take it slower?" Lucy slipped her hand out his hand, putting his hands on the small of her back before she looped her arms around her neck. Though their bodies touched more, it wasn't so formal, and Harry relaxed a little bit better.

"So, this is how you dance in American high school movies?"

"Sometimes." She didn't know a lot about that since she hadn't gone to many in her time.

Harry found it easier as Lucy moved and he followed, just swaying back and forth. This was how other people did it. He was able to look within her eyes, and she didn't look away. Harry was just part of the crowd that swayed ever so slightly, feeling the music within them in the swell of love and passion. In his life, there weren't moments like this to dance.

"When you danced, what kind of dancing was it?" he asked. There was a comfortable silence about this moment, but he wanted to know more. She couldn't escape him here. Lucy didn't want to escape.

"Same old, same old. Ballet, tap, jazz, lyrical, hip hop, point," she listed, and there were many more with her many years of training. Lucy only stopped for Harry's wide eyes.

Instead of asking why she stopped, he moved onto his next question. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Very."

"Do you miss it?"

"All the time."

"How long did you dance?"

"Fifteen years."

He was surely impressed. "But you don't dance anymore?"

"Sometimes it's just hard to move."

With a shudder from the local music, the even music stopped and was replaced by a loud rumbling across the crowd. Everyone waited silently and stilled for the next song. Harry took the chance to move.

Removing Lucy's left hand from his shoulder, he bent slightly, kissing her hand with a careful, gentle and quick peck before returning it to its rightful place on his shoulders. Harry didn't meet her gaze for a second before he found himself having to look up, out of hope, and maybe to see if Lucy had blushed. He didn't get the chance. The music played again, loud and thumping, a heavy beat hurt Harry's ears. Fingers drew across a guitar's strings, and Lucy laughed, holding on to Harry.

"What?" he asked.

"I know this song." She jumped back and her body moved automatically. Her knees bent and straightened faster and faster, and she laughed aloud, heaving and low from the chest. A bright amusement shined in her eyes. Her hips swayed ever so slightly, and Harry forced himself not to stare.

"Who is this?" he asked loudly over the music.

She laughed again. "Johnny Cash."

Her body shook with happiness, a remembrance of home from long ago. Lucy reached out and grabbed his hands, pulling him in and then away, as if they traveled back in time to the roaring twenties. Harry found himself laughing too, enjoying how quickly she moved. He saw how well she was trained, how graceful she moved. She had this ability to spin with her eyes never leaving him. Her back was straight. Her toes were pointed. In the desert heat, she only made it grow hotter. With the loud music, the only tune to his ears was Lucy's laughter.