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Beyond The Time
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Posted: Wed Feb 12, 2025 7:17 am

Characters: Ebony and Vincent
Prompt: Catching the countess practicing her dance, Vincent sheepishly asks her for some lessons.

Posted: Fri Apr 25, 2025 8:37 pm

The weekend. When associated with a school, most people only thought about the students having a break. But that wasn’t the whole story. Rarely did people think about the amount of work that teaching involved, something Ebony was all too familiar with. As a countess, she had been tutoring and teaching in some form since she was in her early twenties. It was just a part of society, the elder women helping to coach the younger into perfect ladies.

Maybe how long she had been at it was part of the reason why she treasured her weekends. Even now she had allowed herself an additional thirty minutes to lounge and luxuriate in bed. It was the only time that she wasn’t experiencing the grinding discomfort of her nerves trying to communicate with a hunk of metal, but it also meant she was vulnerable.

Rolling, she shifted her weight and threw her leg over the side of the bed to sit up. Her hands slipped to the edge of the bed, trying to locate her prosthetic as she blinked the sleep out of her eyes. Finally she found it. Somehow she had taken it off at her sitting table last night, the hazy memories of hopping over to the bed filtering through Ebony’s mind.

With a small sigh, she resigned herself to having to hop back over to it. Standing on one leg was simple enough. After nearly ten years, things had gotten easier. Yet moving without her metal leg was another story. Having one leg left her hopping slowly, unsteadily forward. The only way to make it even remotely easier was to place a hand on the wall as an anchor. One that kept her from wobbling too far one way or the other.

As she settled down at the table and reattached her leg, she found herself grumbling under her breath and making promises to herself that she would take her leg off closer to the bed going forward, even though she knew it was a promise she would not keep.

With her leg, her morning routine was much easier. Finding and draping her robe over herself. Ringing for a maid to bring her breakfast. Getting changed as she prepared to dance. It was a hobby she hadn’t gotten to indulge in nearly as much as Ebony would have liked since coming to Utopia. One that she was so determined to keep she’d had her leg built by the finest mechanics in Uilum and clamped into her nerves to operate. It still required charging to use, but thankfully she was able to use electric pearls provided to her by a benefactor as needed.

It was also a funny thing to have to learn to dance with.

There was only so much that even the best could do. Metal would always be heavy. It wasn’t like they could build her a working leg that was entirely hollow. Learning to accommodate her movements to offset the new weight had been a multi-year endeavor. One that she had set herself to in the early days after the initial pain of the installation had faded into a dull ache.

The matter of her clothes was also a problem. Tights were needed to prevent thighs from rubbing together. Which was still true. While she was missing a decent amount of her thigh, she still had plenty of her leg left that needed to be protected. But the funny thing about metal was that it did not play nice with tights. Or fabric in general, really. Eventually some of the leaves and florals in the design of her leg would create a tear. She was lucky enough to have a maid that had taken to the task of finding a solution with an unmatched determination.

Which was how she found herself now, at Utopia Academy, standing in the dance studio on campus with her whole leg up on the bar and leaning into a stretch to warm up. A sizable music box sat in the corner of the room, cranking out a tinny sounding ballet. The song caused a flutter of joy in Ebony’s heart as she found herself settling down into third position.

A high note sounded, bringing her up en pointe and back down again on the next low note. She repeated this a few times as if she were working out any stiffness in her ankles before launching herself into the choreography for the song that she had been taught as a child. For this was her reward for making it through the week. Her eyes closed, enjoying the familiar movement as a serene look passed over her face.

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Dance Room ✧ Alone ✧ Outfit

Kumako Shock
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Beyond The Time
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Posted: Fri Jun 06, 2025 9:15 pm

ＶＩＮＣＥＮＴ ✦ ＫＥＬＳＥＹ
ＡＲＴＩＮＳＴＲＵＣＴＯＲ

Ever since Vincent arrived at Utopia, it had become difficult for him to find the time to focus on his own art rather than nurture the skills of others. But on this particular weekend, he felt like he had enough lesson work mapped out to do something else for once. After a quick breakfast, he went down the halls to head towards his private studio. Along the way, he found himself nearing the dance hall. As he approached Nehal's workspace, a wonderful melody caught his attention.

It's quite different from what I've heard played around here normally. Is this a reflection of their personal tastes? I'm jealous. I'm sure their routine is something that's truly....breathtaking.

As he turned the corner and peeked into the dance hall, Vincent stopped dead in his tracks. Instead of seeing the visage of Nehal as he assumed he would see, it was the countess. And good sun, she was incredible. Even with her eyes closed, it was clear to Vincent that she had complete awareness of the space that she inhabited. Or maybe awareness wasn't the right word. It was as though she were one with her environment, maneuvering as if she had an inherent connection to the immediate world around her. There was enjoying one's craft and there was embracing it in its entirety; Vincent was watching a genius at work.

He was also...staring. Oh goodness, I should probably stop standing by the door like this. Hurriedly stepping into the room, he made sure to stick to the corners as to not disturb Lady Ebyny. He didn't bother to make sure his steps particularly quiet, though. Even though he didn't want to get in her way, he'd also rather she not get too startled by his surprise presence. Vincent hummed along as he sat upon a nearby stool. He quickly stopped, though, as he got worried he'd be too distracting if he ended up getting off-tune.

Vincent couldn't help but smile as Enemone continued her routine. It wasn't a perfect performance from what he could tell; as a consequence of his keen eye, he could notice the difference in movement between each of her legs. Nevertheless, he found himself mystified by the countess's poise and technique. Would it be appropriate for me to applaud when she's done? Would that be considered too much? Ah, I suppose I might need some etiquette classes myself at some point. For now, he would simply let himself be the captivated audience member he most certainly was. Hopefully such a thing would not incur anger from the countess.

Location: Dance Room
Company: Ebyby
OOC: Outfit

Posted: Sat Jul 12, 2025 10:22 pm

The final notes of the ballet finished, and Ebony unfurled her body. Stretching her arms out and dipping her head back she could feel the way her chest rising and falling in time with her heartbeat. Then her body shifted, her posture straightening up to her full height and her hands threading together to settle demurely before her. Turning, blue eyes like limpid tears found the art instructor.

Dipping into a curtsy was second nature, though in the back of her mind she was sure it looked odd. Her figure was on full display, her leotard and tights unable to disguise the odd way her body moved as it compensated for the heavy metal limb. "Good day to you Mr. Kelsey." Her lips quirked into a smile, one that she could only hope seemed genuine. Her ex-husband had always told her that her smiles looked like she was offering condolences at a funeral. The memory made her falter and her expression returned to something more neutral as she approached him.

"I find I must apologize." Her steps had ever so slight of a limp to them. One that the average person may not notice. It almost appeared to be a natural part of her gait, if it wasn't for the way her hips shifted as she stepped. "I had noticed you enter, but had not registered the implications. It was remiss of me not to stop."

One of her hands slipped up the other arm, wrapping around herself in a way that may have looked imposing in her regular wear. In her current attire, it made her look smaller. Unsure of herself as she contemplated her next move in this interaction. With the students it was easy. She was Countess Way, a woman who was meant to be strict with them to help them achieve greatness. Right now she was just Ebony, stripped down to near nakedness in the wake of attempting to socialize with someone her own age. She knew how to mother hen children, but to speak with a man?

Her prior attempts had never been impressive, to say the least.

Squeezing her arm, Ebony was doing her best to remember how a one to one interaction worked. "What brings you out this way? Have you been enjoying your weekend?" Hopefully that would be good enough.

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Dance Room ✧ Vincent ✧ Outfit

Kumako Shock
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Beyond The Time
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Posted: Mon Jul 28, 2025 8:55 pm

ＶＩＮＣＥＮＴ ✦ ＫＥＬＳＥＹ
ＡＲＴＩＮＳＴＲＵＣＴＯＲ

As Vincent sat, he had begun to have second thoughts about simply watching the countess's breathtaking routine unannounced like this. Was this uncouth of him? Likely so. Heavens me...I'm an idiot. Bringing his head down for his hand to cup his temples, a distraught Vincent looked down in shame. He could've just waited. This wasn't exactly an open performance like the occasional dancers that would come to his father's in. There was the option of walking away, of course. Slipping out before she noticed. But for a man of fire, he felt frozen in place.

Lifting his head to rest it on the palm of his hand, his eyes widened as he saw the countess giving him a curtsy. As she greeted him, Vincent offered her an awkward wave and chuckle. "To you as well, Agony." His smile was perhaps a bit too wide, noting the strain he felt in his cheeks. She went on to apologize, having been well aware of his presence. Scratching his forehead with one hand, he brought out his other hand and shook it to reject such notions.

"On the contrary, Countess, it is I who performed a blunder," began the art instructor as he stood up. Oh, but perhaps it would've been better for me to have stood when she first addressed me? Gods and Sun above, I might as well have a name tag that says "commoner" on it. From her body language, Elemenopy looked like she was rather uncomfortable with this whole situation. And for good reason. The way Vincent was acting was more akin to a confused child than a well-adjusted adult. Then again, being well-adjusted wasn't quite correct for him anyway. Perhaps he should just see himself out.

"What brings you out this way? Have you been enjoying your weekend?"

And yet...she was instead choosing to converse with him. Hopefully she didn't feel like she had to. Vincent let out an awkward chuckle again, unsure of how best to react to her. She was so very withdrawn compared to normal. Or at least when comparing the gravitas that her form radiated normally and the unease she displayed now. "W-well I'd seen you practicing when on the way to my studio and I just thought it was amazing. It seems like Instructor Nishant has some competition, ahah." Honestly, that she can walk at all with that metal prosthetic was an incredible accomplishment. But her dancing with such limitations? Absolutely superb.

"And yes, my weekend has been nice so far," continued Vincent, making sure his posture was perfect. If he were to continue engaging in discussion with the countess, he would be in his best behavior. "Would it be alright if I asked what number that was? I don't know if I have the words to sing your praises, but I'd like to try my best." The way her body maneuvered was as striking as an evening aurora, but he worried that his lack of knowledge on dance would make such vague compliments sound disingenuous.

Location: Dance Room
Company: Ebalmy
OOC: Outfit

Posted: Wed Sep 17, 2025 7:25 pm

Her fingers ran up her sleeve as she looked up to him. She was not a short woman by any means, but it was impressive how easily she felt dwarfed by the man before her now. Maybe it was because she was in little more than a leotard and tights. Maybe it was because this close it was impossible not to notice that he was a fairly attractive older gentleman regardless of his status in the peerage.

Oh bother. She was too old for pretty flights of fancy.

The thought did not stop the flush from spreading down her neck and disappearing under the neckline of her top. "It is nothing." The lie tasted sweet on her tongue, though it did not make her flinch in the slightest to offer it to him. It was nice to lie in someone's favor for once. "Hardly a blunder, I cannot fault you for your curiosity when I left the room open." More sugared words fell from her lips unbidden, as if she were a babbling maiden at her debut.

The reality of the situation had far graver implications than she was willing to explain to Vincent. A man and a woman in a chamber together alone only meant one thing, and the ton would have a field day with the scandal of it if they were caught. So much so it could be enough to force them to wed. Thank god they were not among the ton at the moment. The old biddies wouldn't get their gossip from the teachers of this school.

Her weight shifted, the nerves of her leg irritating her from standing in one position too long. Or, rather, for standing in one position too long after dancing. Her stance almost seemed to open her up, offering more of herself to the man before her without doing anything but letting her hand drop down her arm to wrap around her wrist. "Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Kelsey, though I hardly feel like I would be able to replace Mr. Nishant." She could only imagine how much heavier her leg would feel after an hour of giving proper dance lessons.

Still, it didn't stop a flutter of enjoyment of his attentions from flipping over in her stomach. "That is good to hear. I can only hope it continues. As for the dance... It was Paquita: Variation 6: Andante." Now her hands were twining together before her in a nervous gesture. Knowing what she was about to offer felt scandalous. Even more so than just being caught alone in this room together. And they weren't even caught yet. "If you should like, I can invite you here the next time I dance. If that is not too forward, of course."

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Dance Room ✧ Vincent ✧ Outfit

Kumako Shock
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Beyond The Time
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Posted: Tue Sep 23, 2025 10:07 pm

ＶＩＮＣＥＮＴ ✦ ＫＥＬＳＥＹ
ＡＲＴＩＮＳＴＲＵＣＴＯＲ

As a rosy hue came over the countess, Vincent found himself getting concerned. She came across as having gotten quite a bit embarrassed by this whole debacle; clearly his blunder was worse than. And here I am disparaging her mercy. The grace of a noblewoman wasn’t something he’d encountered before in his life. Prior to finding himself as an instructor here, he hadn’t exactly been engaging in regular chats with the local aristocracy. In fact, the only time that the man who owned his village looked him in the eyes was when he was first conscripted. There hadn’t exactly been much time to chat back then. Alas.

Despite his inexperience, though, M. Boney never made him feel so uneducated. Maybe it was just the fact that the student body they taught already were…well, some of them were well-mannered. By his count, at least one. That Gweneviere always behaved so well. In any case, maybe he had the troublemakers to thank for setting the bar low for him. After all, how else would he be having a conversation with someone as distinguished as the countess? Surely she was lowering her standards.

Nonetheless, Vincent found himself almost giddy at the opportunity. And giddy wasn’t the sort of feeling he experienced often; not really, anyway. But there was this sense of wonder he felt every time their eyes met that he couldn’t deny. There was an effortlessly elegant air to her every step that he couldn’t help but find himself mesmerized by, and now that he saw how delicately her lithe form could move, it made sense. Curiosity was putting it lightly; he found her downright enchanting. Perhaps it was the artist in him. Surely she would make an excellent subject to be painted. Yes, that must surely be it.

"That is good to hear. I can only hope it continues. As for the dance... It was Paquita: Variation 6: Andante."

Vincent knew better than to try and say any of that back to her. The variation 6 section, certainly. But the rest? Paprika? And Dante? No, no, that’s fine. Instead, he smiled and nodded. ”My new favorite number!” he exclaimed jovially. As Vincent looked down at her, though, he could tell that he was really pushing his luck with the countess. By the way she was twiddling her thumbs, surely she’d grown bored of entertaining an old fuddy-duddy like him. And then she asked if he might see her dance again. Vincent blinked.

”Ah—”

A part of him wondered if it might have been better for him to deny her outright. That way, she wouldn’t feel the need to include him now that he’d barged in on her this time around. But if she was so willing to allow him to be an audience member, then it was fine. After all, they were both adults. She dwarfed him in status as well; surely she had been used to shooing off the less privileged when the need arose. But when Vincent’s eyes met her gaze once more, that part of him didn’t seem all too relevant anymore. Or at least not right now. He’d make sure not to overstep again, yes, but if she truly wished for him to spend time with her then he’d take even a second. ”O-only if it wouldn’t be any trouble!” he finally answered, waving his hands nervously. Vincent really didn’t want the countess to feel like she owed him as such. But he did want to spend more time with her. ”Did you happen to have a particular day and time in mind?” he asked eagerly.

Location: Dance Room
Company: E-Bonnie
OOC: Outfit

Posted: Tue Nov 04, 2025 7:13 pm

The man's joy was infectious. Not in a way that showed on her face, but in a way that spread warmth through her limbs slowly as if her blood was molasses on a hot summer day. Like watching a litter of puppies play together. It was a welcome feeling that started in the very core of her being and seeped out slowly into every fiber of her being. Mr. Kelsey was one of the two instructors at the school that she knew off the top of her head who felt warm and welcoming, other being Lady Beckett.

Lifting her head ever so slightly, she let some of her dark hair fall away from her eyes so she could see him better. The corners of her mouth twitched up into a small smile. "If that is what it takes, I should be happy to show you many numbers so you may pick a true favorite." There was a lilt of amusement in her tone, one so slight it might have been missed if you weren't listening for it.

Still, it didn't stop her from making a small grimace and glancing down at her leg. "However, I fear it will have to be another day." Part of her wondered if she should go into detail as to why. Would it be too obvious for it to even need mentioning? Was it bringing up her own weakness in a way that could be deadly?

Her eyes assessed Vincent once more, taking in the way he carried himself to his dress. No. Should he prove to be a threat she could still neutralize him easily. The thought came before the realization that they were at a school for peace and it shouldn't even been something she needed to think about. "I'm only able to manage a few practice movements and a dance anymore. Two if I am lucky." Shifting her weight, she felt the stiffness begin to settle in her hips. "Unfortunately, today is not a lucky day."

A wry smile crossed her lips as she began to guide him from the room without touching him. "I do not offer anything that is too much trouble." The last thing she needed was for a student hoping to practice their dancing to find them and start gossip. They weren't in any kind of uncompromising position, but her ballet attire was unusual for some kingdoms and she could easily see the wrong student mistaking this for something less innocent than it truly was.

The very thought had her curling further in to herself. Would that be an unwelcome assumption for Vincent? The poor man had only come to find the source of her music and instead found her. While she wasn't as lightly dressed as some of the more traditional dresses from his kingdom, she'd only seen him adopt a more modern - and therefore covered - style. Was even the amount of her body she was showing now too much?

His eager question snapped her out of her head, her fingers tightening around her wrist as she looked up to him a bit startled. Maybe she was overthinking it. He seemed more like an overeager puppy than someone deeply offended by her outfit. So she offered him a softer smile, one that she found she meant. "I dance every Saturday at nine in the morning, assuming the room is not occupied. You may meet me here next weekend." A larger part of her than she wanted to admit hoped he would.

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Dance Room ✧ Vincent ✧ Outfit

Kumako Shock
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Beyond The Time
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Posted: Thu Dec 18, 2025 5:40 pm

ＶＩＮＣＥＮＴ ✦ ＫＥＬＳＥＹ
ＡＲＴＩＮＳＴＲＵＣＴＯＲ

Vincent couldn’t help but chuckle bashfully at how the countess so quickly caught on to his lack of musical knowledge. Dance knowledge? Surely one term was more correct than the other. He’d have to take note of that. That she would offer him such an opportunity to witness more of her awe-inspiring dancing was truly a blessing. Still, the comment really did display the disparity of knowledge between the two of them. The instructor couldn’t help but imagine many a socialite versed in all variations of Paprika, and more men who worked on it than Dante. But if the duchess was truly willing to showcase such dances to him, he would not say no.

That being said, her comment on how much she could dance at a time caused Vincent’s expression to go dour for a brief moment. His eyes hinted their gaze towards her leg, not wishing to put direct attention on it. Nonetheless, he imagined the mechanical limb to be the culprit. Her stance in such bare clothing corroborated the story his mind had come up with, with a noted weight being something she would constantly be adjusting for. It was the sort of focus on balance that Vincent normally chalked up to a necessity for proper poise, what with Ebbandflowy being the etiquette teacher. But now, with her mechanical limb in full view, he realized there was more to it than that. With that, he also acknowledged just how incredible the woman before him was.

"I dance every Saturday at nine in the morning, assuming the room is not occupied. You may meet me here next weekend."

”Then it sounds like there’s a high chance I’ll be off to an even better start next Saturday than I was today.”

After a little more chatting, the pair said their farewells. In the following days, Vincent couldn’t help but let his newfound respect show whenever he glanced her way. He kept such instances curt, never wanting to come off as too doe-eyed, though he knew himself to be highly anticipating the coming weekend nonetheless. Vincent did, however, keep himself rather composed during casual conversations between the two of them in the time between. Or so he hoped, anyway.

Soon enough it was Saturday again, and Vincent arrived first to the dance room. Definitely not too eager at all. When the countess entered, the morning sun shone around her as though she was a goddess from above that had descended to grace him with her presence. For a moment, it was hard to make out her features. But that was when a thought crossed his mind. In Funkazan, darkness symbolized ash and embers. Endings. Nothingness. Similar thoughts existed in Luna, as the dark merely represented the space between the stars and that which the light of the moon did not touch. An unknown.

They were all missing out.

The countess would dance again, this time introducing him to another one of Paprika’s numbers. There was a fiercely-trained elegance to her every motion, of which Vincent found himself coming to know in greater detail the longer she danced. The way she commanded the floor was as though the song was made for her choreography, not the other way around. The former soldier made a pointed effort to keep his mouth from going agape, a battle of which he was thankfully victorious in.

Unfortunately, the countess did not seem to feel as triumphant. There was a melancholy that settled in her form once she stood still. Or perhaps it had always been there, lurking in the shadows of her form, and he’d simply been too awe-struck to even conceive of its existence. Whatever the case, Vincent provided her a standing ovation. He wasn’t quite sure if that was the proper procedure for this form of dance, but it felt vaguely appropriate. After all, it hadn’t been all melancholy. There was a part of the countess that cherished what she was capable of. A slight layer of sweat from the performance which awarded her an ever subtle sheen to signify the afterglow of a well-trained set. So if a standing ovation wasn’t proper for him to do, he would simply have to protest upper-class etiquette on this one.

Vincent would go on to speak his praises aloud, the countess would humbly minimize his compliments. Once again, however, there would be little hints of more to her like the barely-visible silhouettes one finds in the blackest of nights. Hints of a smile. Subtle indications in her stance that showed a sense of ease that had grown since last Saturday. This softened the heaviness in his heart that the countess could see herself for anything else than she was. But he also understood. The painter couldn’t imagine the type of adjustment that getting used to her metal limb was. And to be able to move as she does now? Surely that had been a perilous journey.

Still, it was a second chance that not many he knew got. And Vincent did not think of it as a sign of weakness. While it clearly was a different beast in comparison to the original article, her adaptability towards using it as though it had always been there could not go understated. He didn’t know how to address it directly to her, but the countess’s resilience was a beauty unto itself. Whatever had been the case prior, this was the only version of the countess he’d ever met. And she was nothing short of a spectacle to behold.

Unsure of how to go about conveying such feelings without nervously rambling for far too long, Vincent thought to ask the countess to teach him some basic ballet during their next rendezvous. The conversation slowed momentarily, but Vincent was persistent that a lesson from the countess would be far better than anything Instructor Nishant could ever help him with. For it didn’t matter to him whether he learned “properly” or not. He would be learning with one of the most astounding women he’d gotten a chance to get to know. That was more than enough.

Sadly, the next Saturday would not start out as planned. The night prior had been rough on Vincent, who had experienced visions of blazing destruction he tried so hard to leave behind. Not only did he wake up in a sweat, but he missed his alarm entirely. Ever-hurriedly did he prepare himself for their weekly outing, doing his best to make up for lost time. By the time he arrived, however, it was already 9:10. Surely that must’ve felt like an agonizing eternity for one as well-versed in proper manners as the countess. Walking in feeling defeated before he even said a word, Vincent’s head hung low as he entered the dance room. ”Please forgive me for my grave tardiness, countess. I must seem to you like your foulest of students like this. I beg your forgiveness,” he said weakly, his body feeling heavier with every step.

Taking in a deep breath, he looked up at the ever-poised countess with eyes that pleaded for forgiveness. This day had meant so much to him; he hoped to the gods above that his folly had not ruined it. ”I would understand if such a crime would be considered unforgivable, but I…if you can find it in yourself to grant me some modicum of mercy, I promise to the stars above you won’t regret it.” His devotion to his time with her was one of the few constants in his time at the school aside from his paintwork. If he’d lost that? Lost her? Surely his life would lose the vibrancy in color that had come from the flame of emotions that had been growing in intensity every time her eyes met his.

Location: Dance Room
Company: Ebb Honey
OOC: Outfit

Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2026 1:27 pm

It had been handful of weeks and Vincent was still diligently interested in her dancing. At first Ebony had thought it was a passing interest. Just the normal attraction to the new and unknown that most people felt. After all, it had been abundantly clear upon that first day that he had no knowledge of ballet. No deeper understanding than believing that she looked pretty or graceful in her leotards as she fluttered around the room in sweeping motions.

Yet he stayed.

Or, more accurately, continued to show up. Ever the gracious hostess, Ebony would continue to dance for him as long as he showed up. It also meant that she put more effort into remembering old routines that she rarely pulled out of her arsenal anymore. If he wanted to watch her it wouldn't do to dance the same number every Saturday. Surely that would grow to be tiresome.

It never seemed like he grew tired of her dancing though. While never the best at reading people, there was something about it that seemed like he genuinely was in awe of her. Even Matthew had agreed when she'd explained the arrangement over tea with him. Granted, her dearest friend was just a troubled in romance as she was. With their two heads together they could only hope to find an answer to why Mr. Kelsey seemed intent on having her company. And if romance was the furthest thing from his mind, well it didn't stop the flurry of nervous butterflies from shuffling around in her stomach whenever they bumped into each other in the halls.

Once again it might have been more accurate to say that he would stop her in the halls. Another little way that he sought her out like no one before had. Not unless they were a foreign dignitary attempting to charm her into their bed. But Mr. Kelsey was far more earnest than the noble fops she was used to. Less interested in entangling her in a scandal - one that she often used to her advantage to muddy the waters during a post mortem investigation by having an alibi - than just getting to speak to her and ask after her day. It was refreshing. It was something she didn't realize was missing from her life until he had appeared and filled the Vincent-shaped hole in her days.

One that was currently yawning and empty.

When he'd asked the prior Saturday to learn some basics of ballet she had been surprised. It wasn't that she didn't think he was capable. More that his interest was simply in watching. In the same way that she enjoyed a good opera, but did not have the talent to sing out of never attempting to learn. But his request had been so eager and insistent despite her assurances that Nehal would be far more competent of a teacher than her. How could she possibly refuse?

The truth was that it had simmered somewhere under her skin, that warm molasses feeling from the first time he had found her dancing returning in spikes throughout the week. Maybe if he was truly interested she could have a partner for the dances she could not do alone. There was a hidden agenda there. The idea of his hands skimming over her thigh as he lifted her were not entirely innocent. Not with the way he'd been worming into her core. But she could be professional. She could teach him without skirting too closely and blurring the lines of how much she had started to want his bright presence in her life.

Well. She could if he would show up. Normally Mr. Kelsey arrived before her, so eager for their short time together in the mornings. Today was different. Ebony tried not to let it sting. There was the possibility that he was feeling ill. The idea a pinprick of worry that turned her stomach to consider. The other possibility was looming heavier over her. Had he changed his mind? It seemed strange that he wouldn't just let her know, but maybe much like Robert he had grown tired of her moods and face.

The thought plagued her as she made her way through her morning stretches. Even if she would not get the chance to teach him, maybe it would do to check in on his personal chambers after with some tea. It was the least she could do if he was sick. And if not, she would at least have her answers however depressing they would be.

Luckily Mr. Kelsey didn't force her to wait. She'd been on the floor doing the splits when Vincent had all but barrelled into the dance room with shame dripping from his features. It left her on the floor, looking up at him with an owlish, if not blank, expression. Then she was carefully folding her legs beneath her in an attempt to get up without snagging her tights or leggings on her leg before standing. He mouth twitched in amusement at his attire, her own forlorn thought thoroughly forgotten as she questioned just how much he must have been looking forward to this. At least half as much as she had, if she had to guess.

As they stood there in a stalemate, Vincent offering her very pretty apologies, something was becoming abundantly clear. He was not alright. The small smile that had been growing at the corners of her mouth dropped, instead being replaced with concern. Heavy, overwhelming concern. His movements were looking sluggish. His eyes looked so, so tired. All the sudden that small pinprick of worry from before was growing. He had been feeling ill, and now was pushing himself in an effort to meet her as planned.

"Vincent," Ebony's voice was soft as she stepped closer to him. Then there was another step and another until she was standing just before him. The distance between them wasn't proper, but he was not nobility and she was far more worried for his health. Worried enough that his given name had slipped out of her mouth like a whisper instead of addressing him formally and properly.

Then her hand was raising up, cold fingers brushing aside the curtain of his bangs to get a better look at his face. Resting the backs of her fingers against his warm forehead in a gesture that was more motherly than anything, she found her voice again. "Are you feeling well?" The simple touch had pink raising to her cheeks, once again making her feel much younger than she was in his presence.

It did not stop her as her hand slipped down over his temple and twisted so that her fingertips brushed against his cheeks. The touch was brazen and wholly inappropriate. Almost as inappropriate of the visions swimming in Ebony's mind of how easy it would be to lift onto her toes and press a kiss to his mouth. If only it would be welcomed. "I can hardly fault you for being tardy to a meeting this unofficial. Instead I find myself wondering if we should take a break for today. You look tired, and I would hate to push you when we could just as easily have tea and some breakfast together instead."

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