Adagio, Il Mio Amore
She danced like she was worshipping, limbs uncurling slowly and reaching for things unseen. Hands drawing the things they found back close and pulling them within herself. Willowcould feel the raw power and passion she exuded and it seemed to fill the room, reflected in an endless loop by the mirrors that surrounded her.
Never in the farthest reaches of her imagination did the wiccan think her girlfriend would know ballet. But there was proof, pictures in albums that her father was more than happy to provide, plaques and ribbons given at talent shows from before she discovered her calling.
And then there was watching her. The dips and curves of her body emphasized by the sleek cling of the leggings and camisole. Though, Willow secretly adored the lilac chiffon wrap skirt that fluttered delicately with her movements.
It seemed to hover mid-air before flittering to the ground next to Willow's knees as she untied it.
The leggings rolled down her slim legs and easily off over the ribbons of the her ballet shoes and Kennedy's hands moved down and to the sides to grip the bar she was leaned back against, gasping and tossing her head back as her lover began slowly teasing her with her tongue and fingers.
She broke into a sweat, legs trembling from the things Willow could make her feel, and as she glanced around, no matter which direction her eyes flickered, all she could see was the reflection of their love-making in the mirrors.
She danced because she was who she was. Because she could do anything, even fly — just as long as Willow led their lifts.