OTA

May. 15th, 2016 05:11 pm
winter_wisp: (touch)
[personal profile] winter_wisp posting in [community profile] londoncallingrpg
It had been some time now since his attack, and though he still wore a few faded bruises that stubbornly refused to fade, the streaks of purple and blue across his fair skin were not what was bothering the pixie. Guilt clung to him, weighing him down, waking him in the night, and dampening his mood. It didn't matter how many times his friends and kin insisted he'd just been protecting himself, pain stabbed through his heart any time he let his mind wander to that night.

He'd replayed it over and over in his head, the man's words, the feeling of his fists and the pain that had left him weak and breathless- And the feeling of ice as his power had reached out to protect him. He hadn't meant to harm the man, but there was no undoing what had been done. All Winter could do now was live with the pain of knowing he had taken a life while defending his own.

Not wanting to be fussed over or worried about, he'd taken to going out more during the day. Wandering the city and wasting hours at the library or the shops. Anywhere quiet and calm, really.

Some days he made his way over to a small ballet school near the centre of town. Through large glass windows he'd watch the girls inside learn their positions and practice their jumps. They were so graceful, all smiles and giggles, even when their teacher's voice grew stern and they all rushed to get back into place. Winter found he envied them- But also found comfort in watching them dance.

Usually when the class ended, Winter would leave, but one day the instructor had signalled for him to come inside, and Winter had been curious enough to do just that.

"This is the third time you've watched one of my lessons," she noted. "Do you dance?"

Winter bit his lip, then shook his head. "Not like they dance," he said as the girls shuffled past him and out onto the street. "They're very elegant. I'm not sure I could be that."

The instructor raised a brow, then smiled. "No? Well, I do like a challenge..."

He'd been going daily since, learning at a rate that Miss Fairlite insisted was very impressive. She waxed on about natural grace and ability, but Winter found, for once, he wasn't interested in the praise. He didn't come to be told he was good or talented- He came because it felt good. Because the music made his heart patter in a way most of the music he devoured usually did not. ...Because for nearly an hour a day he felt free of his guilt and worries, his full focus on the dance and Miss Fairlite's instruction.

It was wonderful. Better than ice cream even.

(OTA. Feel free to have seen Winter dancing through the window and either come in to watch, or meet him outside after. :D)
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