liam can’t help but snort at the thought. a scoff, not at esme’s words, but at the times he’d heard the excuse thrown around casually.
“mixed signals is just a fucking excuse people use when they can’t have what they want. unless it was an outright, dazzlingly clear, green-light ‘go’- then no one has the right to think that they can have anything from you. and certainly not the ‘permission’ to take it.”
liam purses his lips for a moment - listens to what she has to say while also making sure to keep a casual ear to the other room for any impending signs of consciousness from their current ‘guest’. he has no problem with esme being their while he has words with the guy - he won’t relish her hearing some of the things he might say, but if it would give her some comfort after this, then it would be worth it.
“it’s not an - act…
…when you’re dancing your body knows how to move to the music because that’s what you’ve trained it to do. you know set pieces with choreography that you can perform without thinking… and you can apply all of those learned moves and rhythm and skill to a freestyle dance if you want to…”
“…defence is exactly the same. it’s natural to freeze. panic and fear mean that no matter how much you might want to do something about your situation, you just… can’t… and no matter what kind of shit you’ve seen on tv or movies - that applies to pretty much everyone.”
he’s started to walk backwards across the studio - taking one of her hands as he does so - he positions his other hand on her waist, exactly the way she’d shown him how.
“you hear the beat, you know when and how to move. because you have learned. and practiced. i move - you anticipate or react accordingly.”
the words he’s using now are almost a reflection of their first dance together. when he’d stood on her toes more than once. nothing fluid or relaxed or controlled. all wrong moves and misplaced footing. but now - significantly less so.
“it’s the same with… fighting.”
the first time he’s actually said it out loud. skirting around the edges previously, there didn’t seem much point in being coy about one of his occupations now.
“when the moment comes - you don’t freeze. you anticipate. and react. that’s where i come in. i’m your bad guy. and you learn from me. how about it?”
Esmeray chewed on the inside of her cheek as the male recounted his definition of consent. While she shared the same views, she wished it was universal.
“Not everyone thinks like that, Liam.” She whispered then. “Some people take what they can get and then tear away what they can’t. People who’re cruel and stronger.” As an exotic dancer, she’d watched countless individuals push their luck and get away with it.
The man in her hope had a sense of entitlement big enough to believe he had a right at her.
Wide hues searched his as he spoke. He described the emotions and sensations she’d felt, the movement she’d been unable to describe. While some of it was innate, she’d worked tirelessly to ensure her form remained in tune with her head. Every part of her being had been fine tuned as to depend on her form when she moved, trusting each muscle to arch as needed and catch her on a fall.
“You see it in your head?” she asked with a tilt of her own. Curiosity was picked now. While she could see the similarities, there were still many differences; the dance one made while fighting was on pure instinct and fast paced. It was deadlier. “Your body becomes to weapon.” Wasn’t that what she’d helped him with? While he had the skill to kill and defend, she’d only showed him fluidity and flexibility.
Perhaps he could teach her to fight. Not to kill, but to protect herself.
Wrapping lithe fingers around his palm, she followed him to the middle of the dance floor. Her free hand whipped at the dried tears as a ripple of confidence rolled through her. Her back arched, shoulders squared, chin jutted out. Fear had never belonged on the dance floor.
His words found her ear as she nodded, despite a small smile cracking her confident facade. “The student becomes the teacher,” she chimes softly, “it’s good that I’m not twice your weight, I don’t think your toes and body would survive.” Thankfully her feet had gone through much more than his mistaken steps but it was worth noting.
Pushing a strand from her face, she bit her lower lip as she looked him over. “All you’d have to is throw me over your shoulder.” Still, she remained skeptical. Her thoughts returning to the gun she’d almost bought a month ago and now she now regretted having changed her mind.
2087
yousharknotpass
gamechangershow
