Ink & Lust

Chapter 30

A lot can change in four days. For Amila, the tetrad of time brought many to her life. One of which was where she presently stood. With her arms stretched wistfully above her head and her eyes closed, she pulled her stomach muscles in and lifted her heels off the oak floor with the grace of a butterfly breaking from its cocoon for the first time. The earbuds she wore canceled out the audible hum she let out from fully utilizing her en pointe slippers again. She relished in the burst of excitement that brimmed within from being able to hold her body weight on her toes.

She lowered her feet back to the floor and opened her eyes with happiness drawn on her face. Her smile grew wider from the man standing in the doorway proudly slapping his hands together. Amila removed the earbuds to hear his enthusiastic applause.

"Sav, I didn't know you were here." She said, tapping her watch pausing the music she had strobing.

"Just walked in." He gestured to the foyer as if it was just around the corner when it was around the hall. "You're looking good. Are you sure you took a year off?"

She chuckled, her hands going to her waist. "My arches are sure." She whirled around turning back to the mirror; her mesh pink skirt danced around her juxtaposing her flesh-toned leotard and leggings. She stretched her arms. "And so do my shoulders. Not to mention my calves and thighs. Abs, too and back."

"I'm sore, Sav." She gripped her waist tighter with a slight smile that created a sparkle in her dark brown eyes. "But I love it. I missed this."

"Because you're a dancer, Mila." He took her hand and she instinctively knew what to do. She took a step away from him then twirled towards him. Laughter erupted from her ribcage as she bumped into his body. Her timing was off but it felt good to twirl again. "Rusty but still beautiful. Graceful. Elegant."

She gripped his shoulders and rolled her eyes. "Savion, you're a liar. That was not graceful. More like a newborn flamingo." She peeled her body off his and stepped out of his space. "But it's only been four days. More time here and I'll be good again."

Amila moved to the barre as he watched her like she was a work of art; fascinating him with every movement she made. Oblivious to Savion's entrapped gaze, she wrapped her hand around the unfinished oak bar and slid into the first position with ease. She ignored the vibration of her watch as she worked through the five positions. She knew who it was. It was seven in the morning and it was the 'good morning' text he'd been sending for the last three days. A text she wasn't ready to reply to. He left her the morning after Thanksgiving. He didn't deserve a reply. Not now. Not when she wasn't strong enough to give one.

Valentina was the motherly energy she needed that morning when she broke out in silent tears in front of the coffee maker. Cream was better in her coffee than tears but unfortunately the latter dropped in the mug first. The older woman embraced her warmly and helped her piece herself back together. It was something that caught Amila by surprise but she was grateful nonetheless. Upon getting on the flight back to Houston she knew what she had to do. She went back to the house and typed up a letter. A professional letter.

"I think you'll be ready for Christmas Eve," Savion said calling her from her concentrated thoughts.

"What's happening on that day..." She stopped her footwork and looked away from her reflection to him. "I mean for me."

He moved to her side, "Before you start listing reasons for negation just hear me out."

"No." She quickly said with a shake of her head. "I'm not performing in your program." She shook her head again this time with more determination. "Do you know how many people are going to be there? The tickets sold out in a day. You sold out the Alley Theatre, Savion. I'm not."