(no subject)
Well, I promised this to chirachira months ago, and I finally buckled down and wrote it. ^__^;;
Segmented Time
by me
for chirachira
Warnings: None
Series: D.Gray-man
Pairing: Allen/Rinali
Summary: Dancing. =D
Allen never does too well with waiting games, although he hides it well; always time weighs heavily on him, now that he understands the race he entered when he donned the exorcist cloak. But today they must wait for the stroke of midnight, sitting at the feet of the marble fountain and watching for the Innocence manifestation.
A lonely tune, trapped between sorrow and hope within the strings of a violin, drifts into the darkening square on the early spring breeze. Allen smiles. It's in three-time, and he taps his index finger against his knee in time with the music.
"A tune you know?" Rinali's shoulders are drawn up as she leans forward, her head cocked slightly.
"A slow waltz, actually," Allen recalls, lifting his eyes skyward for a moment. He shifts his gaze back to Rinali and smiles. He smiles a lot, and almost always means it. "We have an hour. Care to dance?"
Rinali blushes slightly and raises a hand in front of her. "I've never ..." she says slowly, apologetically.
"Then I'll show you how," Allen offers, rising to his feet and brushing the dirt off the seat of his pants briskly. "If you wish to learn, of course," he adds hastily. The shadows fall across his face, spidered and shallow from the trees high above.
Rinali isn't afraid of shadows. She stands next to him. "What do I do?"
"It's very simple." Allen brightens again, as he takes her hand in his. "You put your hand here." He guides a hand to her shoulder. "We hold hands here." He takes her other hand in his knotted one and lifts it to shoulder level, half-outstretched. "The time is three, so each move is done in three steps."
"I don't know any dance steps," Rinali says, a little unsure.
"It's okay. Your only job is to follow." Allen's smile is warm and bright like late spring, and his arm snakes around her middle, gentle, chaste; she feels his hand on her back, a guiding pressure. "Can you still hear the music?" he asks.
She nods, wordless, sensing magic here. The fountain burbles behind her, and the violin's tune has turned more gay, and faster. The crooked shadows create more mystery than fear.
Allen leans close. His feet are tapping softly in time with the music, showing her the beat subtly. "Then just follow me." The pressure on her back grows, guiding her forward in three steps, then back three steps. His hand leads her so she doesn't stumble, and they waltz around the fountain in zigzagging lines. Then he steps back dramatically, and they are spinning, a full circle with every three steps, the music rising higher, the shadows whirling away, and Rinali can't help but laugh with surprise. This is what ladies do in England, she thinks. Allen thinks of me as a lady. "Where did you learn?" she gasps as their steps slow again.
Allen is embarrassed, his cheeks turning pink. "It's actually theater dancing," he admits, a little ruefully. "I was one of the extras in a play ..."
"I'm no judge," Rinali says, admonishing his embarrassment, "but waltzing with you is ... the best way I have ever passed the time," she decides.
Allen's beaming smile lights the night up, and the shadows are banished.
fin
Segmented Time
by me
for chirachira
Warnings: None
Series: D.Gray-man
Pairing: Allen/Rinali
Summary: Dancing. =D
Allen never does too well with waiting games, although he hides it well; always time weighs heavily on him, now that he understands the race he entered when he donned the exorcist cloak. But today they must wait for the stroke of midnight, sitting at the feet of the marble fountain and watching for the Innocence manifestation.
A lonely tune, trapped between sorrow and hope within the strings of a violin, drifts into the darkening square on the early spring breeze. Allen smiles. It's in three-time, and he taps his index finger against his knee in time with the music.
"A tune you know?" Rinali's shoulders are drawn up as she leans forward, her head cocked slightly.
"A slow waltz, actually," Allen recalls, lifting his eyes skyward for a moment. He shifts his gaze back to Rinali and smiles. He smiles a lot, and almost always means it. "We have an hour. Care to dance?"
Rinali blushes slightly and raises a hand in front of her. "I've never ..." she says slowly, apologetically.
"Then I'll show you how," Allen offers, rising to his feet and brushing the dirt off the seat of his pants briskly. "If you wish to learn, of course," he adds hastily. The shadows fall across his face, spidered and shallow from the trees high above.
Rinali isn't afraid of shadows. She stands next to him. "What do I do?"
"It's very simple." Allen brightens again, as he takes her hand in his. "You put your hand here." He guides a hand to her shoulder. "We hold hands here." He takes her other hand in his knotted one and lifts it to shoulder level, half-outstretched. "The time is three, so each move is done in three steps."
"I don't know any dance steps," Rinali says, a little unsure.
"It's okay. Your only job is to follow." Allen's smile is warm and bright like late spring, and his arm snakes around her middle, gentle, chaste; she feels his hand on her back, a guiding pressure. "Can you still hear the music?" he asks.
She nods, wordless, sensing magic here. The fountain burbles behind her, and the violin's tune has turned more gay, and faster. The crooked shadows create more mystery than fear.
Allen leans close. His feet are tapping softly in time with the music, showing her the beat subtly. "Then just follow me." The pressure on her back grows, guiding her forward in three steps, then back three steps. His hand leads her so she doesn't stumble, and they waltz around the fountain in zigzagging lines. Then he steps back dramatically, and they are spinning, a full circle with every three steps, the music rising higher, the shadows whirling away, and Rinali can't help but laugh with surprise. This is what ladies do in England, she thinks. Allen thinks of me as a lady. "Where did you learn?" she gasps as their steps slow again.
Allen is embarrassed, his cheeks turning pink. "It's actually theater dancing," he admits, a little ruefully. "I was one of the extras in a play ..."
"I'm no judge," Rinali says, admonishing his embarrassment, "but waltzing with you is ... the best way I have ever passed the time," she decides.
Allen's beaming smile lights the night up, and the shadows are banished.
fin