Life on Point
Love
*Sophia*
Yet again when I saw her dance that day she took my breath away; I couldn’t even work out how it was possible for someone’s body to do what hers did, it’s like she merged with the music and became a living representation of what the melody meant. I can’t describe it technically because I don’t know a thing about dance, but I do know that everyone watching went completely quiet, stunned to silence by the beauty of it. Nobody coughed, we hardly even dared to breathe as Libby moved, but the moment she had come off her points and rested her elegant hands in front of her we erupted.
“You danced really beautifully today,” I told her honestly a few minutes after her performance. Then I left. It was far too painful to stay, to have the conversation about her denial of our relationship yet again. She said I didn’t understand her reasons for wanting to stay secret about us but she didn’t understand the pain it caused me either. Every time I saw her at school and she greeted me with little more than a courteous smile because she was with her friends it cut me up inside. Every time she would make some ‘harmless, light-hearted’ homophobic comment with her friends a part of me felt like screaming.
One time a rumour got out that we were dating, a rumour that I didn’t rush to deny, much to her anger. When she found out about it not only did she go around telling people that the “sick, messed up rumour” was completely untrue but she also got me to go around and tell people the same thing. I hated myself for doing that; it went against everything that I believed in about truth, honesty and accepting who you are. But I did it because she had asked me to and I knew that if I didn’t deny it she would once again sink into her own self denial and ignore me for days on end. Whenever she got like that I felt like leaving her for good, or at least until she managed to accept who and what she was but then she’d make me fall in love with her all over again and I would no longer even be able to consider being without her. My life would have been so bleak without her; I lived for the time that me and her spent together: talking, laughing and having sex. I think she did too, not that she would admit it.
***
Two days later I was sitting on my bed, thinking about Libby and how once again, she had shut me out for a while. I wondered how much longer I could carry on like this. My phone vibrated in my pocket and even before I looked I knew who was calling. “Hey Lib,” I said softly, expecting her to rush into one of her usual apologies. Instead she said, “Sophia we really need to talk, can I come round?”
“Yeah of course Lib. What’s this all about?” There was a pause at the other end of the line and then I heard her sigh loudly before she responded, “I’ll tell you when I get here.” Then she hung up, without even saying goodbye and I was left, once more, thinking about Libby.
About twenty minutes later she was standing in front of me in my hall, eyes fixed on my faded carpet. “Lib?” I questioned her gently, desperate for her to return my gaze and scared as to why she wasn’t. She ignored my plea for an explanation and again uttered her usual apology about what had happened a few days before and then began asking me about English Coursework. “You’re going to have to tell me at some point,” I told her, interrupting her questions about Macbeth slightly more harshly then I meant to. “Fine, if you’re in such a hurry for everything to be over then can we at least talk about this upstairs.”
Together we walked to my room, her words replaying over and over again in my head. What did she mean about everything being over? For the first time since she had rang me I decided I really didn’t want to know what was bothering her, not if that meant that we would no longer be able to be together. We sat next to each other on the bed and I tentaviley held her hand. “I got an audition for Ramussen. It’s tomorrow and I think there’s a good chance I’ll get through and then that means I’ll have to leave. ” she told me, her words rushing out desperately. My first thoughts were selfish. I wondered what this would mean for us and how she could leave me so easily. Then I remembered how long she had wanted this for, how this had been her dream since she was five years old and because of that I didn’t get cross or upset, I simply said “I’m so happy for you!” I knew that there would be time to ask the other questions later and from the look on her face all she needed right now was someone to hold her tight and tell her that everything was going to be okay. She didn’t deserve to feel guilty for achieving her dream, nobody did.
“You’re amazing,” she told me, finally beginning to smile. “Yup, I know,” I teased before kissing her neck gently, “that’s why you love me.” She tilted her head so that it met mine and we moved together simultaneously, lips touching, tongues dancing, her hands in my hair. I was just pulling off her t-shirt when she said, so quietly I could barely hear her “I do you know.”
My heart felt like it stopped beating inside my chest and my breath caught in the back of my throat. “I love you,” she said clearly, resolutely. I laughed, hardly able to believe the words that she was saying to me. A small part of me began to ache inside as I recalled her saying the words I had always longed to hear, the words that made all the pain I had gone through for her worth it. I’d have gone through it all again in a heartbeat just to hear her say those three little words again.
"I love you too."
Yet again when I saw her dance that day she took my breath away; I couldn’t even work out how it was possible for someone’s body to do what hers did, it’s like she merged with the music and became a living representation of what the melody meant. I can’t describe it technically because I don’t know a thing about dance, but I do know that everyone watching went completely quiet, stunned to silence by the beauty of it. Nobody coughed, we hardly even dared to breathe as Libby moved, but the moment she had come off her points and rested her elegant hands in front of her we erupted.
“You danced really beautifully today,” I told her honestly a few minutes after her performance. Then I left. It was far too painful to stay, to have the conversation about her denial of our relationship yet again. She said I didn’t understand her reasons for wanting to stay secret about us but she didn’t understand the pain it caused me either. Every time I saw her at school and she greeted me with little more than a courteous smile because she was with her friends it cut me up inside. Every time she would make some ‘harmless, light-hearted’ homophobic comment with her friends a part of me felt like screaming.
One time a rumour got out that we were dating, a rumour that I didn’t rush to deny, much to her anger. When she found out about it not only did she go around telling people that the “sick, messed up rumour” was completely untrue but she also got me to go around and tell people the same thing. I hated myself for doing that; it went against everything that I believed in about truth, honesty and accepting who you are. But I did it because she had asked me to and I knew that if I didn’t deny it she would once again sink into her own self denial and ignore me for days on end. Whenever she got like that I felt like leaving her for good, or at least until she managed to accept who and what she was but then she’d make me fall in love with her all over again and I would no longer even be able to consider being without her. My life would have been so bleak without her; I lived for the time that me and her spent together: talking, laughing and having sex. I think she did too, not that she would admit it.
***
Two days later I was sitting on my bed, thinking about Libby and how once again, she had shut me out for a while. I wondered how much longer I could carry on like this. My phone vibrated in my pocket and even before I looked I knew who was calling. “Hey Lib,” I said softly, expecting her to rush into one of her usual apologies. Instead she said, “Sophia we really need to talk, can I come round?”
“Yeah of course Lib. What’s this all about?” There was a pause at the other end of the line and then I heard her sigh loudly before she responded, “I’ll tell you when I get here.” Then she hung up, without even saying goodbye and I was left, once more, thinking about Libby.
About twenty minutes later she was standing in front of me in my hall, eyes fixed on my faded carpet. “Lib?” I questioned her gently, desperate for her to return my gaze and scared as to why she wasn’t. She ignored my plea for an explanation and again uttered her usual apology about what had happened a few days before and then began asking me about English Coursework. “You’re going to have to tell me at some point,” I told her, interrupting her questions about Macbeth slightly more harshly then I meant to. “Fine, if you’re in such a hurry for everything to be over then can we at least talk about this upstairs.”
Together we walked to my room, her words replaying over and over again in my head. What did she mean about everything being over? For the first time since she had rang me I decided I really didn’t want to know what was bothering her, not if that meant that we would no longer be able to be together. We sat next to each other on the bed and I tentaviley held her hand. “I got an audition for Ramussen. It’s tomorrow and I think there’s a good chance I’ll get through and then that means I’ll have to leave. ” she told me, her words rushing out desperately. My first thoughts were selfish. I wondered what this would mean for us and how she could leave me so easily. Then I remembered how long she had wanted this for, how this had been her dream since she was five years old and because of that I didn’t get cross or upset, I simply said “I’m so happy for you!” I knew that there would be time to ask the other questions later and from the look on her face all she needed right now was someone to hold her tight and tell her that everything was going to be okay. She didn’t deserve to feel guilty for achieving her dream, nobody did.
“You’re amazing,” she told me, finally beginning to smile. “Yup, I know,” I teased before kissing her neck gently, “that’s why you love me.” She tilted her head so that it met mine and we moved together simultaneously, lips touching, tongues dancing, her hands in my hair. I was just pulling off her t-shirt when she said, so quietly I could barely hear her “I do you know.”
My heart felt like it stopped beating inside my chest and my breath caught in the back of my throat. “I love you,” she said clearly, resolutely. I laughed, hardly able to believe the words that she was saying to me. A small part of me began to ache inside as I recalled her saying the words I had always longed to hear, the words that made all the pain I had gone through for her worth it. I’d have gone through it all again in a heartbeat just to hear her say those three little words again.
"I love you too."
♠ ♠ ♠
Thank you to anyone whose reading this (: Also, I'm not sure whether to put a umm..sex scene (really nothing too bad though!) in the next chapter. I dont want to offend anyone but I think its important to the story so please please let me know whether you think I should or shouldnt. :D xx