The weight of her head on his shoulder is comfortable. He's almost surprised by that. It's been a while since he's had anyone that close, and the way it reminds him of Lucy is almost not even painful. It's a good reminder. She used to do the same thing with him, curl up and tell him her latest stories, whatever she was reading. Juliette isn't his sister by a long shot, not even remotely, but the parallel is nice.
"You really like dancing a lot, huh?" he asks, reading over the passage and glancing at the smile on her face. It strikes him as a little cheesy, but she's obviously entranced by it.
"I do," she admitted. It was something that came easily for her; she was hardly big enough to throw punches with the rest of the unit, so her dancing skills kept her supple and fluid. And it was fun, besides. Juliette craned her head around and smirked up at Edmund.
"I'll have to teach you how." She hadn't forgotten the conversation in the gym. "You'd be good at it.
He was a decent dancer, for a guy. As long as all you were expecting was someone who knew where to put his hands and when to move. It wouldn't exactly be her kind of dancing, though. The way she talked about it, anyway, it always sounded much more interesting than just your typical club grind-and-sway. Which is why she gets a quirked eyebrow and a grin as he ruffles her hair. "You think you can teach me to dance, I'm willing to learn, Juls. But you've never shown me your kind of dancing before, you know. I might not be any good at it."
She swatted at his hand playfully, shaking hair out of her eyes and giggled. "'s not hard to learn," she told him with a shrug. "It's 'feel-good' music, too." Juliette loved the music that went along with her dancing, it was so easy to move to.
"I need my sash and bells," she added. "And my laptop; it has all my music on it." Seized by inspiration, Scarlet snapped the book closed and wiggled her way out of the chair, tugging at Chris's hand. "Come-come-!" she entreated with a bouncy grin.
"'Feel-good music?'" he echoes, letting himself be tugged to his feet. After all, it wasn't like she was getting him anywhere without him helping; at 6'2" and nearly 200 pounds, he was a fairly solid guy. But he's not attached to this chair, and the excited grin on her face is enough to get him moving without too much complaint. And there is, of course, the curiosity to be sated. Sashes and bells. What kind of dancing was it Juliette did, exactly?
"Where are we going?" he asks her, bemused but compliant. Not that he wouldn't follow anyway, no matter the answer.
"To Sherwood House," she said with another small bounce. "So I can get my stuff." With that, Juliette proceeded to tow Chris out of Narnia's library and across the compound, not letting go until they reached Sherwood's common area. "Sit," she ordered with a grin, adding, "be right back."
Juliette returned a few minutes later, sash tied around her waist and wristbands jingling. She grinned at Chris before setting her laptop down on the coffee table, scrolling through the music before finding the one she wanted. Setting it to play, she stepped back and lifted arms over her head, beginning to sway with the music's rhythm, bells jingling merrily.
It's a quick enough walk, and he's obedient, sitting on the couch in Sherwood's common area while Juliette vanishes down a hall. He's never been in this area before, and he doesn't mind having the time to look around; it looks comfortable, lived in. Newspapers on the coffee table, remote for the TV balanced on the arm of the couch, scuff marks on the edge of the table from someone's heels. You get a sense of lived-in comfort from this room. Not quite like the Narnia common room, which always seemed just a little too clean and empty.
And then Juls is back, sash and wristbands chiming softly, and he settles back to watch. The music is low, exotic, with a driving drum beat, and her movements are almost boneless. It's entrancing, fascinating, and he can't help leaning forward slightly, eyes following the curve of her arm. This was definitely dancing different than he'd expected, but she was good at it.
She was too small for regular fighting, but built just right for fluid movements involving sharp pointy things. And her dancing taught her grace and fluidity, bringing a whole new dimension to her bladework that was almost breathtaking to watch. But she didn't dance with her knives--at least, not in here, she didn't.
Juliette sashayed across the room, bare feet moving in precise time to the music's rhythm, long arms winding and snaking in untaught synchronization. She twisted, bent, writhed and shimmied, long hair flying, her steps not choreographed, but rather coming from the music itself, telling her body how to move, how to flow. She danced until the track ended, both hands tucked under her chin and one foot crossed over the other, in a small bow as she twinkled brightly at the watching Edmund.
He didn't know people could move that way, really. Sure, he'd seen some graceful people, but the way her arms snaked around her body, the way her stomach undulated, hips sometimes moving slow, sometimes snapping, fringe of that sash swinging musically in time with the bells on her wrists...well. It was almost otherworldly. It would be mildly uncomfortable to watch, if she weren't so entranced by it, too; as it was, the only feeling he got from it was an almost hypnotized appreciation as his eyes drank in the sight. When the music ended, it was almost a shock, setting him back against the couch with a blink and a slow smile.
"You're going to teach me that?" He's maybe just a little incredulous. He's an okay dancer, but no way in hell he could move his hips like that. Not and make it look as good as she did.
Her smile turned into something coquettish, almost coy, as she nodded. "Yep." Then Juliette squealed delight--the look on his face was priceless--and quite abruptly pounced over the coffee table to land right in Edmund's lap, those snaky arms tight around his neck and she hugged him in glee.
"Did you like it?" she asked a bit breathlessly. Because that sorta dancing was a workout; it'd taken her years to build up enough stamina to finish even one song.
He isn't expecting that leap into his lap at all, arms automatically catching her around the waist and holding her close, and trying very, very hard not to think about her dancing. And he succeeds, for the most part; it would almost definitely be awkward if it weren't for her expression. The look of breathless delight on her face was something special, lighting up her eyes with a sort of innocence that had nothing to do with being a child and everything to do with loving what she did. He ought to know. It was the same look he got when he was in the ring with someone good.
"Yeah," he replies, and he can't quite help it if his voice is a little bit lower than it usually is with her. "Yeah, I did. You're a great dancer, Juls."
She wrinkled her nose in satisfaction and nuzzled at his cheek affectionately, kittenish. "Thank you, Edmunds," she responded with a quick kiss to his cheek. "You will be too, one day. Promise-promise." She then wiggled out of his lap to sit close beside him, carefully working the wrist cuffs off and placing them one by one on the coffee table next to her laptop.
"I'll even help you make a costume," she told him matter-of-factly, already running over colors and fabrics in her mind's eye.
The nuzzling at his cheek tickles briefly, the kiss light and friendly. When she wiggles down next to him, one arm automatically fits itself over her shoulders again, looking at the cuffs curiously. It's only then that the words she's said finally percolate through his brain, very determinedly not thinking about quite a number of things. Eyes travel from her wrists up to her face.
Juliette nodded, already planning out the cut and colors. Blue, maybe some purples and a dash of crimson tossed in. Trimmed in silver...yes. "Yep," she told him with a grin. "Blue, maybe some red somewhere. And trimmed allll over in silver...yes, will be awesome."
Hopefully she'll forgive the mildly skeptical and somewhat dismayed look on his face, but he can't quite help it. Sure, he's got a nice body, and he doesn't mind showing it off. Hell, he already wanders around shirtless most of the time, and his usual swimming gear doesn't leave much to the imagination. But that's different from belly dancing gear. And it's an entirely different kind of muscle memory he's going to have to develop.
"You are so lucky you're cute," is his only response, one finger lightly tapping her nose. "And lucky I'm always up for trying new things. Okay. You make me a costume, I'll wear it."
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"You really like dancing a lot, huh?" he asks, reading over the passage and glancing at the smile on her face. It strikes him as a little cheesy, but she's obviously entranced by it.
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"I'll have to teach you how." She hadn't forgotten the conversation in the gym. "You'd be good at it.
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"I need my sash and bells," she added. "And my laptop; it has all my music on it." Seized by inspiration, Scarlet snapped the book closed and wiggled her way out of the chair, tugging at Chris's hand. "Come-come-!" she entreated with a bouncy grin.
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"Where are we going?" he asks her, bemused but compliant. Not that he wouldn't follow anyway, no matter the answer.
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Juliette returned a few minutes later, sash tied around her waist and wristbands jingling. She grinned at Chris before setting her laptop down on the coffee table, scrolling through the music before finding the one she wanted. Setting it to play, she stepped back and lifted arms over her head, beginning to sway with the music's rhythm, bells jingling merrily.
Reply
And then Juls is back, sash and wristbands chiming softly, and he settles back to watch. The music is low, exotic, with a driving drum beat, and her movements are almost boneless. It's entrancing, fascinating, and he can't help leaning forward slightly, eyes following the curve of her arm. This was definitely dancing different than he'd expected, but she was good at it.
Reply
Juliette sashayed across the room, bare feet moving in precise time to the music's rhythm, long arms winding and snaking in untaught synchronization. She twisted, bent, writhed and shimmied, long hair flying, her steps not choreographed, but rather coming from the music itself, telling her body how to move, how to flow. She danced until the track ended, both hands tucked under her chin and one foot crossed over the other, in a small bow as she twinkled brightly at the watching Edmund.
Reply
"You're going to teach me that?" He's maybe just a little incredulous. He's an okay dancer, but no way in hell he could move his hips like that. Not and make it look as good as she did.
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"Did you like it?" she asked a bit breathlessly. Because that sorta dancing was a workout; it'd taken her years to build up enough stamina to finish even one song.
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"Yeah," he replies, and he can't quite help it if his voice is a little bit lower than it usually is with her. "Yeah, I did. You're a great dancer, Juls."
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"I'll even help you make a costume," she told him matter-of-factly, already running over colors and fabrics in her mind's eye.
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"...costume?"
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"You are so lucky you're cute," is his only response, one finger lightly tapping her nose. "And lucky I'm always up for trying new things. Okay. You make me a costume, I'll wear it."
Reply
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