dance across my soul @dancepippadance - Tumblr Blog

food for thought

In an instant, she was swept to another place, an old daydream that had chased her through adolescence and quickly faded in the early years of marriage. Off in another time and place, she could smell the crisp sea breeze and feel the sand between her toes. Her hair tickled her nose and she pushed it up and away from her vision, swept above the peak of her brows. A hand was placed upon a swelled stomach, her fingers painting a graceful picture across the curvature.

In the reverie, Pippa sighed and leaned back against her low lounge chair. Luckily, she didn't want to get up as the precious weight she carried wouldn't have allowed for it. Eyes closed, she relaxed. Moments drifted away, a smile on her face. The daydream shifted with a trill of childish laughter. A child was spun in the short wading waves, a man's silhouette against the sparkling sunlight of the warm August sunset. In that daydream, she knew whose face she wished to see there.

She watched as he turned with the sun catching in his hair and his face revealed with a swirl of motion. The redhead was feeling as if inside she might burst with emotion, and she wanted to pull him close, keep him safe, live inside this tiny bubble of hope. The glimmer of it softened the edges of her vision, creeping in and keeping her from feeling as if she were seeing the whole truth, but it didn't frighten her, not in the least. Instead, the tiny smile bursting between her lips was stiff with joy.

"I can love you too," she said, leaving it to hang in present or future tense with each passing second.

food [for the soul]

She had no idea what she wanted. She wanted safety, to feel as if she were the one who was needed and couldn't be replaced. Pippa hadn't had then. Even now, tucked away with him out the lake, she couldn't fully be safe. And she was married. The period of separation ticked by day-by-day. So many times she'd wanted to slip off the veil of distance that had been established in the easy pattern of their days and slip instead into his bed. She needed to feel his arms around her, to feel him filling her in all the ways that had been refused of her before. And it wasn't just a physical need; it was so much more than just the hunger for love, for lovemaking. It was the hunger for something real, tangible, something that wouldn't leave her.

They'd both been turned out by love, stripped bare. She watched him move away and felt herself fold inside incrementally with his every step.

"You can't," she half whispered with disbelief, her heart tugging in a way it hadn't when she'd filed the separation notice just a few weeks before. "I was a prisoner in my own home, never left alone and never making my own decision..." Her voice faded and broke.

"I can't be held like that." She had once been a wild thing; a filly galloping across the west. She was broken now, lead to a world that smashed it out of her. She wanted it again, the fire. He made her feel it. Small flickers and embers of heat. In his smile, in the tiny burning in her gut and her insides clenched, longing to break the divide.

"I... I don't know what we are. But I know what we aren't. And we aren't what we had before." She hadn't moved from her seat. She wanted to move towards him, but in the moment she couldn't decide if she would slap him or smash her body and mouth into him; either one she suspected might knock some sense into him.She was here, and she shook with fear and anxiety. She never used to be afraid to love, but tonight, it hurt to have the words cooped up inside, but she suspected it could also hurt to say them.

food [for the soul]

Three little words had the power the terrify. Get down now! Or the power empower. You are beautiful. They had the power to inspire a generation to explore new heights. To the moon. Or the power to solidify a relationship. I love you.

None of these were the words that Christopher chose to utter to the redhead. Instead, a mere question had her shaking inside.

What are we?

Her initial reaction was how the hell would she know. Because really, she was grateful here. Grateful to him. It seemed imprudent, or somehow wrong, to ask for or want more than what he was already giving her. And yet, in each tiny thing he did, like startling her as he had a few moments ago made her slip deeper into whatever she was trying so hard to push away.

Her lips parted and she longed to say something to him, but she was uncertain. Instead, she mirrored his body language. First leaning back and away and then towards him. She crossed and uncrossed her ankles before shifting back and forth in her seat. In the movements that she made, she wanted to convey some sort of feeling of comfort or relief in being consulted but truly she was waiting for him to say something. She'd spent so long hiding, inside herself, inside the house where she had lived, she didn't know if bold was even still part of her. And besides, she could hardly guess wrong, lean in at the improper moment, and suddenly he might want her gone but be too polite to say anything.

No. It was better to steer them and keep them steadfastly in the friend zone. And yet, she was so tempted as she crossed and uncrossed her feet to reach one out to lean on his. Once the idea was in her head, she couldn't drop it. So instead, she simply crossed her ankles, one after the other and slid her feet along the distance until her toes were barely touching his. In one movement, so slipped one foot between both of his a few inches. A question to be sure.

"I don't know. What do you think we are?" Her deep green eyes never left his.

#FITZLEY

food for the soul

She heard his voice and she froze; how had she not noticed him approaching? For a moment, her heart skipped a nervous beat, the kind that it used to when he came home. But immediately, butterflies swooped up from her stomach, setting it racing at an off-kilter, frenzied pace. A smile immediately brighten her face and set her lips racing towards her ears. She glance up, one hand on a hip, mischief dancing in her eyes. She really was quite fun when she wasn't worried about how someone would react to her one moment to the next.

"Christopher!" she exclaimed, wagging a finger at him. Just as quickly as she began to tease, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes blazed into her, and not in anyway that made her want to run. At least not to hide, to get away. Instead, she just stood there, not breathing. Finally, she inhaled, a soft sweet sigh of contentment. She didn't know what to do. She froze in that spot, feeling as if she should move towards him. And even though her heart was telling her to race towards him, wrap her arms about his middle and ask about his day, her feet stayed firmly planted.

Instead, her hand went to her heart, and she just looked at him. Her other traced lightly along the counter. Swaying for a moment as the music changed, she breathed into the space counting off the beats, as if it were a dance. Finally at the proper moment, she took a step. Another eight count, another step. She was halfway to him, just around the corner of the island and she paused, looking at him expectantly.

"Hi," she whispered, holding her breath again.

#fitzley #foreverandeverandeverandalways

food for the soul

She would have thought by now she would be used to it. She didn't answer to anyone, except maybe her best friend on occasion; she didn't have to check in or worry about what she spent her money on. She could come and go as she please, as much as one could without their own car. It was likely she would eventually get hers as her name was on the title along with her husband's, but it might be awhile. She could sleep in or get up early; stay up late or go to bed directly after dinner. She could do just about whatever she wanted and often did for long stretches of days at a time.

Then, invariably, something else would stop her.

A noise on the stairs, a car pulling in the drive way. Something about the thud against the wooden surface or the crunch of rubber against gravel sent her into a momentary panic. Instead of continuing to work as she should have, she became paralyzed, afraid to move or breathe. Afraid that he was about to come walking or zooming back into her life and take her away from the little stability she'd begun to create. She was just beginning to put herself back together, to tear down the walls that years under his roof had solidified, making her feel like she was finally beginning to emerge once more as a human.

Slipping from under the light blanket on the couch, iPad tucked under her arm, she padded to the kitchen and filled up a large glass with sun tea. She squeezed in a lemon slice and leaned against the counter and sipped, flipping through messages on her Etsy account. So fair, she'd only sold a few of her handmade barrettes and bows, but it was giving her something to do aside from dance all day and get caught up thinking only of everything that could possibly go wrong in the next several months before she could file for divorce.

Light streamed through the window and she turned on some music, switching to Pinterest and beginning to pull ingredients from the fridge for the breaded fiesta chicken she'd been wanting to try. The original recipe looked a bit spicy, but she knew Chris would love it, so none of that mattered. She'd tame hers down with some sour cream. It was the least she could do.

#fitzley

head under water

How could she explain what was wrong? How could she explain that her resolve was strong but her heart weak? It beat rapidly beneath skin and flesh and bone. It rapped out a rhythm of anxiety and pressure. She held her knees tight to her chest and looked up at him, her eyes swimming in emotion and a few tears. She blinked them back, her insides rolling in a tumultuous turning that made her feel as if she might be sick.

"It hurts," was all she said.

She did. She hurt everywhere. Her entire body ached with the enormous weight of her decision. She was certain of it; she didn't want to go back to her old life. Pippa had no idea what her future would hold; she could go anywhere and do anything and that could be almost anything at all. She felt safe at Christopher's house, ensconced in the weight of protection and admiration. She wanted nothing more than to just stay here, safe and warm. She stretched out her arms to him, an invitation and a demand. She needed someone to wrap themselves around her. It might not have been ideal, but she needed to feel that someone was there. Emotionally, she knew it, but physically she needed his warmth.

#fitzley

my head’s under water...

She moved to the beat of the music, her tempo exploding inside her head. She shifted her weight, taking a leap. Her heart jumped too high in the air. She she came down to land, her ankle turned, catching in the way that it hadn't in years. She had spent days enveloped in a kindness, a kind of soft and unbearable quiet. She wanted to move towards him; she felt her heart tugging her towards that. But she pulled back, dug her heels in and refused to fall. Her life was a mess; baggage that no one could even imagine had taken her over and she had no way of needing or wanting to bring that down upon someone else. In that moment, she'd forgotten the freedom of her heart and instead was drug back into the moment. She attempted to correct in midair.

Her foot twisted and down she fell. Her hands reached out to attempt to catch herself, but instead she landed. Instantly the fragile joint began to throb. Memories surfaced and the anguish she would feel at being drug back by her husband, the punishment she might endure if this didn't work. Pippa folded in on herself and imploded. Her eyes drained, her cheeks flushed, her voice sobbed. She fell apart, drawing her knees into her chest and resting her forehead there. She felt tiny, powerless, and weak. Somehow it seemed like things would get easier, but for the moment, she'd never felt so powerless.

#fitzley

my heads under water [i’m (not) breathing fine]

She may have settled into her new life very peaceably had it not been for the nagging notion in the back of her brain that he was to return. She knew that he was going to return eventually, she just hadn't expected it to make her so nervous. She'd made up her mind, she'd moved all of her things out of his house. She'd pulled her money, the money she'd meticulously kept track of by keeping every pay stub, every document for the last several years. She pulled out every penny that was hers from their checking and savings accounts. She'd started her own account, at a separate bank.

She'd left her cell phone, completely reset to its factory out-of-the-box settings and left it on the entry hall table. She'd gotten her phone with a brand new number. She didn't leave it for him, but she knew, in this small town, he'd find a way to get it. While each of her preparations had been made to create another degree of separation, it also would, she knew, create another degree of anger in her husband's breast. She'd met with an attorney and the formal separation required before a divorce had begun. She had a year.

A year of separation before she could file for a no-fault divorce, something she desperately wanted. So much could happen in that amount of time. Wringing her hands, she paced the length of the kitchen in her bare feet. Her white thighs partially covered in her Soffe shorts, remnants of her dancer days. No tights covered her skin now. The tight spaghetti strapped tank top was covered with a cropped and loose sweatshirt hung off of one shoulder and her long chestnut hair was swept back in a loose braid.

She spun on her toe, a perfectly placed spin, her head finding the same spot on the opposite wall. She paced the other way, turned again, this time adding a flare of her hand. Soon, she was stepping, the length of the kitchen, a warm up that she'd done since she was a girl and found comfort in the pacing as she'd grown. At some point, she'd moved to the living room, switched on some music and began stretching, way up over her head. She'd go through the positions next before trying out her more flexible poses. It had been some time since her body had moved and it caught in some places but always moved through. She dug in, mentally and pushed away the cobwebs and the worry, willing herself not to break. If her body could still do this after all this time, perhaps her spirit could follow.

#fitzleyreborn #fitzley

when i wake

Standing on the back porch, sunshine glinting off the wooden boards and reflecting off her face, she shivered a bit against the cool breeze. Pippa wasn't exactly cold; just a bit cool in the shade. She looked his wet body up and down, wondering why he hadn't just agreed to go first or just waited until the shower was unoccupied. She let her moment, for just a second, go to the place where in an alternative universe or some distant daydream, wonder why she hadn't just offered for him to climb in with her. Sure, it might have been messy and sticky with oil to begin with but quickly soap and warm water and perhaps a few determined fingers would wash away any remnant of the mess.

His scar may have seemed huge and scary to him, but in the that moment, Pippa saw it glinting in the sun streaked with water from the hose. It was merely a tiny blip in the landscape of his chiseled chest. She had heard very few details about his surgery or his health condition; only enough to merely know that they existed. She'd never been nosy or would pry for more information than was absolutely necessary. So instead, she simply had been supportive of her friend; she'd watered the plants and brought in the mail at her friend's apartment. Fed the fish and made sure her fridge was stocked. All the things that a good friend could do. If she Alana hadn't wanted to talk about it, she didn't ask about it. So as such, she knew very little. And that, well in this situation, in this tricky situation where in each moment, she felt her affection growing millimeter by millimeter for the man by the hour, it was probably for the best.

"That should be okay," she said nodding. "I just... I didn't want to start digging in your drawers." Her face flushed a bit as she shielded it from the bright sun, turning to follow after him into the house. "Thanks again," she said. "I really appreciate this."

#fitzleyreborn

when i wake

She was completely and utterly swallowed whole. Her body ached in a way it hadn't in a long time; perhaps not since her wedding night. But unlike that night, she'd awoken this morning into a brilliant and beautiful light that somehow kept her both on her toes, over the moon and completely grounded in the instant. As she stepped under the cool stream of water, she shuddered, wanting to turn the stream warmer, but her face turned up towards the frigid water, embracing it. She lathered herself with his shampoo and soap and tried not to imagine what it might be like to have him behind her, his fingers brushing across her skin both cleaning and exploring each inch in turn. She sighed, feeling warm as the water began to warm, needing to be out of the shower, clear the image from her mind before she found herself allowing her own fingers to take the place of the ones imagined in her head...

A few moments later, clean and wet, she wrapped herself in a towel, emerging from the bathroom. Her dress and other garments were folded neatly over her arm, clutched to her chest. Pippa was covered from under her arms to just above her knees. She wasn't sure exactly what to change into. Her wet hair was draped across her shoulders, water dripping down her back. She tiptoed across the floor, disappearing into his bedroom curiously. It was odd to be there. She thought she heard him on the stairs outside and the door open.

"Chris? Is that you? Did you... have something in mind I should put on?"

prancemefaerie-blog

no sign.

Pips,

Where have you been?! You have been worrying me!! I haven’t seen you since last night! What is going on???

dancepippadance

Of course he is. :)

prancemefaerie-blog

no sign.

Pips,

Where have you been?! You have been worrying me!! I haven’t seen you since last night! What is going on???

dancepippadance

I’m okay. I’m at your brother’s. I fell asleep here after dinner last night.

when i wake

His laugh surprised her but brought her lips to a full tooth-baring grin anyway. She shook her head, stepping away from him and reaching for it. It was almost dead. But she could send a text.

MEET ME AT MY PLACE TOMORROW. NOON. :)

She sent the message to Alina before turning off her phone. looking around and gesturing for a charger.

"Do you have a charger that will work for this?" She held up her phone, hoping he'd say yes. "I texted her to meet me at noon. Can you drop me off before work and then meet me there on your lunch?" she asked. She'd have everything she absolutely had to have packed by then. Clothes, a few photos, anything she didn't want to worry about never getting back. Everything else, including furniture she loved, could stay there. She may have picked it out, but it was picked out for a life she didn't want. Where ever she was going in the future, she could get new things.

"Can we make sure she doesn't show up here before then?" Pippa was only mildly concerned about how that would go. She liked to control little things, like when her best friend would find out she was moving in, even if it might only be temporarily, with said friend's brother.

"And thanks," she said, taking a step towards the bathroom, already unzipping her dress revealing the back of a black lacey bra and her porcelain skin. She may have decided it was better he didn't want to play that game, but that didn't mean she wanted him to misinterpret, to misunderstand how she saw him. He wasn't a brother, not to her. He may have been her best friend's brother, but he wasn't hers. Her dress fell to the ground milliseconds before the bathroom door closed after her.

when i wake

She grinned. He wasn't going to play that game. And that was... well, that was good. In another time, she might have played that game, combed her wits to say just the right thing to throw him off balance. She'd forgotten how she'd played that game; how playing that game had gotten her into her current situation anyway. She had been chased and she loved that chase. And now, here it was simple, simple and easy. She wanted that. She also wanted him to flirt, but physically she was leaving a marriage that emotionally had been over when it started. She was seen as property and they physical theft of property was certain to be a very serious crime in her husband's eyes even if his wife was simply stealing herself.

"I suppose that could work for now," she said, agreeing. "But I'll need my clothes eventually." Eventually, she would have to go home and stare at those wedding pictures on the wall on her way to the bedroom to get her things. To pack her clothes. Past the sketches and paintings she'd done recently. Past the photos of her in extravagant dance costumes. There would be pictures of the two of them together, her lips smiles and her eyes hollow. She didn't want to go there and she certainly didn't want to go there alone.

"Maybe Alina can help me pack tomorrow," she offered. "Have you seen my phone?" she asked. "I should probably text her, see if she can meet me then. I... maybe we?" Pippa asked her eyes meeting his. "Maybe we should tell her the plan?" It was an odd feeling of a tiny prickle of guilt. Like maybe her friend would judge her; she'd never before. But this would be a terrible time to start.

when i wake

She held her breath. She was doing it before she even realized she'd been doing it. A sharp exhale when he said the first word, her eyes flashing up to meet his which were already trying to find anything else to look at but her. They settled once more on her and her own eyes softened looking into his. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she shook her head a bit in disbelief. Stay. It sounded so simple coming out of his mouth. It all felt so perfect and so right and she rose off the couch taking a step towards him.

"You look just fine to me," she said, her party dress rumpled from the night before, a stark contrast to his bare feet and oil soaked jeans. She shifted her back onto her heels and then onto the balls of her feet, coming a little closer to him, taking a step to close the distance. She was close to him, breathed him in. Sweat and motor oil and something that lingered like his cologne from last night. Then there was the smell that was all uniquely him. She loved that smell. She breathed it in.

"If I'm staying, I probably need some clothes." They had walked to his place; Alina had picked her up last night. "Do you mind giving me ride?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper a hint of inneundo lurking there. She didn't hide it. Her fingers clutched the sides of her dress and she willed them to stay there.

when i wake

She didn't know what to say. She just sort of stood there. She felt out of place. She wanted to go home and get clothes. She hated showering and not have something clean to put on. She wanted to stay the day on his couch, watch some Netflix, her feet in his lap, talking about nothing. She had never had anyone to do that with, but something told her Christopher might be that guy. Also, she hadn't checked her phone since late last night and if it wasn't dead she probably had several texts from Alina. A large sigh escaped her lips as she settled in on the arm of the couch.

"I was thinking more like go home for clean clothes. I mean... I could shower when I got back. I just don't have anything clean here," she explained. "Maybe we could grill or something, spend the rest of the day on the couch?" She asked, still not looking at him. Her hands were in her lap and she shifted her weight up a bit before settling back on the arm again, glancing at him but really only at his feet. She ran a hand through her hair once more nervous. What if he laughed? Or turned her down? What if he decided he hadn't meant what he said. "I don't think I have a suitcase," Pippa murmuring her eyes still on the floor. "Are you sure you don't... want me to leave? I just... I'm really grateful for however... I mean, just... I... thank you."

when i wake

"Morning..." Pippa said, glancing his way. She'd only just emerged from the bedroom, running her fingers through her bed-head hair that suddenly became a realization when she heard his voice. It hadn't been a consideration prior to that; she could have easily taken care of it before emerging had she thought of it. But she hadn't. Her eyes turned up at him under the mane of red locks. First she focused on his face and smiled before taking in his whole physique. Shirtless, he stood there. All muscular, masculine inch of him. The soft chisel of his pectorals, the sexy sweep of his "v" dipping down into his dirty, oil-soiled jeans. She wasn't really sure that before she would have listed "grease head in his full element" on the list of things that she found incredibly attractive, but in that moment, her breath caught and her heart pounded. She was swept away in a momentary lust that awakened a part of her she hadn't been sure until that exact second was even still alive. The redhead cleared her throat.

"You already went into work?" she asked, her eyes suddenly searching the house, looking anywhere but at him. Her faced was flushed pink and so she untucked her hair as if she were combing her fingers through it letting fall down across her cheek. "I've been sleeping. I should have... gotten up and made us breakfast." A small chuckle escaped her, awkwardly. "Or perhaps lunch. It's so late. I... was thinking I might shower..." Her voice cracked, she didn't want him to think she was implying anything. "But I could go home and do that. Get some clothes." She rocked her weight up onto her toes before falling back onto her heels. She still hadn't looked at him again. She stood there, frozen just waiting for him to say something, anything. Her face turned a few more shades of pink.

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