balance - a harlett drabble
Life is like a dance. A balance.
Scarlett's familiar with dance. You have to move fluidly, go with the rhythm of music and change positions. You have to remember where to place your foot next, when to turn, where to jump. It's all about balance, precision, focus.
It's like the constant ebb and flow of the sea, back and forth, back and forth, all in one motion. Over and over again. She definitely had her balance. She'd stand tall, able to balance on her toes in her pointe shoes as she'd glide across the floor.
But then she wondered when she'd lost her balance.
Maybe it was when she bumped into that curly haired boy on the streets of Oxford. Maybe it was when she let him come to her apartment, drunk and brokenhearted. Maybe it was when she agreed to go to his house for Christmas. Maybe it was when she'd spent hours and hours practicing to the point where she couldn't feel her feet.
But then, as she lay in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, in a sea of blankets, she realized just when she'd lost her balance.
When she left him.
She couldn't balance on her toes, she couldn't get her routine down, sleep wasn't an option, and she'd spend hours thinking about him.
Scarlett needed him. He was her support, the person she could talk to when she was lonely, sad, upset. And he needed her. He needed her touch, her witty comments, sweetness, her intelligence.
She had to admit to herself she'd missed him. As many times as she'd try to push him into the back of her mind he'd come back. She missed his smell, his deep voice, their shy kisses, lazy days, and the way he'd call her baby lips. It was a nickname just for her. Only her.
And now that she and Harry were on good terms, and she knew it, it made her smile. The very thought of him, the sound of his name.
She'd regained her balance once more.
