Changed

Confliction

“Hope the wound heals but it never does, that’s ‘cause you’re at war with love.” - Lupe Fiasco, ‘Battle Scars’

Meryl stood there, frozen. Her mind - the logical side of her - was screaming at her to flee, while her heart urged her to run to him, to allow herself to be swept into his arms.

He made the decision for her, striding confidently towards her. Her heart almost broke looking at his full smile and miserable eyes. Before she had much time to process it, however, he was there, pulling her into a tight hug as if nothing had happened.

She remained unmoving within his embrace, unable to return the gesture and hating herself for it.

After a solid minute of one-sided hugging, Maks pulled away oddly formally. The only break in his uniform demeanor were those deep brown eyes, still filled with heartache. Those eyes almost broke her resolve, almost had her forgetting all he had put her through, almost had her forgiving him. Almost.

“Hi, Meryl,” he broke the silence in a guarded tone. Hearing his voice again made her weak at the knees but she hid it well.

“Hello, Maksim,” her own voice was cold and unforgiving. If he was bothered by her unfriendliness, he didn’t show it.

“Do you know why we’re here?” he asked, pulling a somewhat-rumpled envelope from his pocket.

“Dancing, I’d guess.”

“Ding!” he held up his finger, quickly scanning the paper inside the casing before handing it to her. She took it gingerly, making an effort not to touch his hand. Three words were printed in a neat bold font that Meryl recognized from when she had been a star on the show.

CONTEMPORARY/RUMBA FUSION

She looked at Maks expectantly. He took her clue, slipping his fingers into the envelope and drawing out a disc in a paper sleeve.

“Wanna take a listen?” he asked in a low, accented, voice, one that the other occupant of the room found - against her will - to be devastatingly sexy.

She nodded and he slid the disc into his computer and the first chords of Sam Smith’s ‘Nirvana’ resonated through the room. She gathered the courage to look at him and found that he had closed his eyes. His head bobbed slightly, completely engrossed in the song. He looked so peaceful in that moment, sitting there like that, she was tempted to just watch him, to take him in. But, then, the last notes of the song faded away and his eyes flickered open, ruining the illusion, and her gaze darted away from his face.

They were both silent for a couple minutes, neither sure what to do or say. Finally, Maks broke the silence: “Well, shall we get started then?”

She stood and nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

He seemed oblivious to her discomfort as he took her hand and led her to the center of the room, wordlessly showing her through some of the steps that he had already begun to choreograph. She obliged, letting herself fall into rhythm with his every movement, marveling at how easy it was with him. Don’t think like that, Meryl, a scolding voice in her head chided. You don’t want to dance with him, you’d be happy never seeing him again after what he did.

Distracted, she stumbled slightly into him.

“Are you okay?” he sounded legitimately concerned; it took everything in her to remind herself that he didn’t care, he couldn’t care.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, brushing off the question.

“Wanna try some of this with music?”

“I guess.”

“Does that mean you need more time?”

“No, let’s try it with music.”

--

The whole rehearsal was filled with conflicting emotions and contradicting actions. He would pull her into a choreographed almost kiss and the tenderness of his hands almost had her forgetting everything she had gone through and hugging him so tightly he never let go. Then, he’d move into a darker section of their dance and she’d be fighting back tears, certain that nothing would ever resolve itself, that she’d never get the closure she was searching for.

By the time they called it a night, she was practically tearing her hair out in frustration. What was she supposed to do?

--

She exited the studio slightly ahead of him, welcoming the crisp night air as she passed through the iron gates.

She had already pulled out her phone with the intention of calling up a taxi when she felt a large warm hand planted on her shoulder. Maks. It was all too familiar.

“Need a ride?” he questioned, spinning her around to face him.

She hesitated a second too long. “Nevermind,” he turned on his heel and trudged towards his car.

“Wait!” she called, jogging after him, unable to stop herself. Was it just her imagination or did a trace of a smile flicker across his face as he helped her into the car?

“You’re staying with Jenna and Witney?” he confirmed.

“Yeah.” Hurry up and start driving before I lose my nerve and call a cab, she sent out a silent prayer.

He turned the ignition, as if sensing her impatience.

--

Maks’ car pulled to a halt outside her apartment. She began to reach for her bag in the backseat but he caught her hand and held it. Her instinctual reaction was to pull away but his grip was too firm.

“Maks,” she finally forced out, sounding slightly strangled. There was no reply but his grip slackened enough for her to pull away.

She forced herself to look into his eyes with the intent of bidding him goodbye. Goodbye and nothing more. But there was something different in his gaze, something had changed. He was looking at her with an intensity that hadn’t been there before. An intensity that made her want to break contact but the same intensity that kept her eyes glued to his.

“Meryl,” the word tore softly out of his lips, making her heart pound in her ears. That he could still do this to her, that he could still make her feel like she was the only one… she couldn’t take it anymore. Before she could process what she was doing, she leaned against the center console and brought her lips to his.

--

She was kissing him. He couldn’t believe it. After almost two years apart… and she was kissing him like nothing had changed. And in a way, it seemed like nothing had. It was the two of them, and nothing else mattered.

But, before he had time to kiss her back, she was pulling away. And then she was turning towards to the door, eyes shining with tears? She was sprinting inside, away, and all he could do was watch, still dazed from the feel of her lips against his.