Lewi & Jovian

L

Lewi

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Original poster
It was an average town, not small, but not extremely large. Within it's depths there were the fair share of criminals and cons, but there were also good people willing to help anyone that they met. There were also, as is in every civilization, people whose story has never been told. Today was no exception.

A girl with bright red natural hair and pale skin stepped out of a black car at the dance studio in the town. She was petite, but had curves that suited her beautifully. She also had a line of freckles over the bridge of her nose. She was wearing dark sunglasses and a pair of black leggings
with a denim skirt over it. For a top she was wearing a regular t-shirt.

An older man, appearing to be her father, led her inside holding her arm. He was the owner of this studio. That didn't mean she got any special treatment though. Not at all. He bore grey hair, and steely blue eyes. He spoke to her as they moved. "Come on Kieara, easy." He seemed to be a big cooperate man. He wore a suit, and he had another job, away from the studio with erradic hours.

A younger man, named Marcus, was inside. HE was the dance instructor. He smiled seeing them coming. He announced that practice was over for the day and they all smiled and thanked him before leaving. Leaving the studio empty all but Kieara, her father, James, and Marcus. He had jet hair, darkened skin, and brown eyes.

"You can take your glasses off now Kieara." Marcus spoke with a smile. She was released and moved to a changing room. Marcus and her father chatted while the 23 year old was changing, then she returned. She'd gone and changed into a black leotard, which looked something like a bathing suit, to dance in and she was also wearing a pair of white tights. She removed her glasses and revealed solid white eyes. The girl was blind. However, she knew the studio well enough to manuver without a cane. She refused to use one claiming they were degrading.

Her father spoke. "Well, I have business of other matters. Good luck you two." He then took his leave.​
 
John was supposed to pick up his little sister from a dance lesson but ended up running late. He rushed into the building and peeked into the main auditorium to see if she happened to still be practicing. If she was, he could play off being late. But when he looked inside he saw a woman dancing solo on the stage. He wasn't close enough to really see much, but after having to deal with his sister's lessons for so long he was aware of her skill.

"You're late," he heard his sister say to his left, and he turned with a small grin. She was only sixteen, almost a decade younger than him and close to having her own license so he wouldn't have to drive to the studio to pick her up.

"I'm not that late," he defended. "Besides, didn't you say you didn't want to be seen with me anymore?" he teased. His sister, Anne, was about as fashionable as he was scruffy. She preferred her designer clothes, while he was happy to wear a pair of worn out jeans everyday with the T-shirt of the day. Her hair was perfectly styled and pinned up, his was a little long and messy looking. It was pointless to him to worry about messing with it.

Anne snorted, something he thought wasn't ladylike but no one else seemed to agree, and rolled her eyes. "Anyway, we need to leave. They don't like it when we stick around too long."

John nodded and looked back at the auditorium. He wanted to see more of the girl dancing, because it seemed more fluid than anything he'd ever witnessed. He had at one time been interested in dance, but never like that. The only reason he'd taken ballet was because he was in middle school and really wanted to make the high school football team. The coach suggested he take some ballet lessons, and he did for about four years. It wasn't something he'd really enjoyed at the time, but after he'd dropped it he realized he kind of liked the fluidity of the art. Watching the girl, he'd been captivated by the same fluidity.

However, he knew better than to ignore his sister and followed her from the auditorium.
 
Kieara finished her dance while they stood and talked. She then headed to go out and get a drink. She knew the studio, so she didn't worry about bmping into anything, but usually she was left the last of the day so that people didn't criticize her disability. She walked and gasped as she bumped into him and fell. A lot of girls thought she thought herself better than them because she danced by herself, but it was only because of being teased.
 
Anne ran ahead, wanting to get home to do whatever teenage girls do. John took a moment before he started walking, only to run right into someone.

"Oh, geez, I'm so sorry!" he said quickly, grabbing hold of the other person in case their balance was lost for a brief moment. He looked up and saw the girl from inside. "Hey, you're the girl that was just dancing."
 
Kieara blushed deep red. "O-oh yeah I am...." She said softly unaware anyone had been watching her. She reached out after regaining her balance. She touched his chest and spoke softly. "O-oh you're tall...." She said as she ran her hand to the top of his shoulder and then adjusted her head accordingly. Even if she couldn't see them she'd discovered it made people more comfortable when they thought that she was looking back at them.
 
John flushed at the contact and comment.

"Ah, well... I guess I can be considered tall," he mumbled. "I'm John, by the way." His eyes went to hers and he was startled by the discovery that she was blind. His thought immediately led into, I wonder what color her eyes were. "Ah, I saw you in the auditorium. You're really, uh, good," he finished lamely and cursed inwardly as he wished he'd been able to come up with something better to say to describe her dancing. "I liked watching you," he added softly, attempting to convey how much he truly enjoyed the bit he'd seen.
 
Kieara smiled up at him. "Aww, thanks." She spoke. "No one really seems to like watching my dancing but you, everyone else makes fun of me." she said to him. She could have her eyes operated on, but it was very expensive and she'd been born with the cataracts blocking them. She didn't know a world where she could see.
 
John grinned a bit, even if she couldn't see it. She fascinated him, more so now that he was faced with the knowledge that she was blind and yet she was still a really good dancer. He couldn't even imagine how she'd have learned without being able to see the forms from an instructor.

"I don't see why. I thought you looked good up there," he commented, trying to convey what he could to her through voice. "I don't know a lot about the form, but I know enough to be aware that yours was beautiful."
 
Kieara's cheeks tinted a light pink as she listened. "Aww, that's so nice of you." She said smiling. She spoke. "They think i'm better than them because I take private lessons." She explained about the other people teasing her thing. "I take privates because I can't learn to dance the way they do..." IT had been excrutiatingly hard for Kieara to learn her jumps and such not being able to see.
 
John nodded and stated, "I suppose that would be understandable. They must be insanely jealous of you, I guess. Of course, you're talented so I'd be pretty jealous of you too!" he added in an attempt to joke. He wasn't sure how to really say anything as a comment regarding her blindness, not knowing how she would take it. It was a little odd, he decided, knowing that she was looking but not seeing him. But, he wasn't too concerned by it outside of not knowing how to comment without insulting her.
 
Kieara smiled. "Thank you." she spoke to him. She frowned though as she heard the door open followed by a familiar voice. "Kieara, come on, you should've been changed already." Her father looked hateful and kinda angry. She stammered. "Y-yes dad..." She said and spoke nervously. "I have to g-go..." Something was off. She ran off towards the dressing room.
 
Nodding John watched her walk off. Once she was out of sight he realized that he'd forgotten about his sister. Muttering a low curse, he quickly ran out to the car in hope that she was there waiting. Luckily she was.

"What took you so long?" Anne grumbled, sliding into the seat once he unlocked the car.

"I ran into that dancer after you ran off," John answered, starting the car and putting it in gear so they could head home. Anne didn't say anything for a second, and then asked, "Was she nice?"

John glanced at her in surprise. "Yeah, she was. I liked talking to her."

Anne nodded and was silent for a moment again. "She's always seemed a little stuck up. I've been afraid to approach her, because I think she'll be rude or something."

"She wasn't," John said softly with a small smile. "She was really nice."

Anne studied his face and grinned. "Maybe you should come early tomorrow. Who knows, you might run into her before she starts her practice. I'm sure knowing that you'd be sneaking a peak at her performance would make her happy," she teased.

"What?" John seemed to register why Anne was teasing him. "Oh, shut up. There's no way she'd be interested like that, all right? She's a really good dancer. I'm just a dumb ex-jock with a degree in electronics doing nothing with it."

Anne shook her head and watched them pull up at their home. "You still have a crush on her though."

"Well, she's a gorgeous woman," John mumbled, feelings his cheeks warm. "You know what, you drop it and head inside. I've got to get to my apartment so I can change for work at the restaurant. I'll be there to pick you up tomorrow or whenever you need me to get you again, all right?"

Anne laughed but got out like she was told. John watched her go inside and then drove away.
 
Kieara had changed and returned to her father. He grabbed her by the arm roughly leading her off. She hated this. Being taken advantage of because she was blind and no way to escape. She was thrown into the passenger seat of his car and taken home. "Who was that guy Kieara?" Her father asked. "No one dad." He frowned. "I suggest you tell me the truth before we get home and I have to punish you into telling me." Kieara began to shake. "He's no one really, he just came to pick up his sister and I bumped into him." She told him. Her father wasn't content with that answer. He was afraid she had something going with him and that he would lose his gaurdianship over his daughter, and also lose his punching bag. "I told you to tell me what's going on, now spill it." "Dad nothing's going on..." That was the end of it. They were home and he sighed yanking her from the car and taking her inside. It wasn't long before she was upstairs in her room beaten bruised and bleeding.
 
The next day, John was at the studio early to try and catch Kieara before she had to go inside the auditorium. Before he entered, though, he panicked and ended up sitting in his car staring at the building until there was no way he'd catch her before. With a sigh, he walked in to go find his sister. Maybe he'd still get to take a glance at the dancer while she was performing before they had to leave.
 
Marcus seemed distracted as John entered. Marcus offered a fleeting smile to him. Though the reason for his nerves showed when Kieara entered now dressed for her rehearsal with bruises cuts and the like. The way she moved it was obvious she was in pain but dancing was all she had and she was going to do it whether it hurt or not.
 
John grinned when he saw Kieara, but it fell quickly when he realized she wasn't moving nearly as well. Narrowing his eyes, he noticed bruises that weren't there the day before. He moved to approach her, wanting to understand what had happened. He wanted to help her.
 
Kieara didn't hear him come up, but she sat down because she was sore. She sighed softly and rubbed her arms.
 
((Had a staff member move the original thread for us))

"Kieara?" John said softly, taking a seat next to her. "Are you okay?" He placed a hand on hers, not wanting to startle her but wanting to offer some sort of comfort.
 
Kieara didn't jump, but he had scared her. She looked in his general direction and spoke. "I....i just hurt a little."
 
John frowned and looked at the bruising, thinking about how hard it had looked for her to actually move.

"I think it hurts more than a little."
 
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