One girl next to you shakes as she falters off her small pointe, the scream echoing off the mirrored walls. Your gaze didn't falter off the chip in the wallpaper you focused on to keep your balance. Your gaze didn't falter when the steeled toed boots thudded against the wooden dance floor. Your gaze didn't falter as you heard the scuffle and screams from the girl being dragged out of rehearsal.

The screams you would hear in your dreams later when you try to fall asleep in the room with the rest of the ballerinas. On your cot slightly damp from the moisture in the damp air.

Your eyes squeeze shut as your muscles tense and beg to give out. Giving up means death. You can't give up not when it means losing everything...including him.

The darkness is the only time when the Red Room is silent. The sounds of mice scurrying in the walls and light breathing of the girls around you are the only sounds. One cot remains empty as the girl never returned after being dragged off. Your skin prickled with goosebumps. As the night went on you slowly dragged yourself off the cot.

Your toes gently padded down the room as you slowly slipped out the door. The lack of light made you rely on your memory as you silently went to the training room. You flip the switch as the light brings the room out of the darkness.

Breath escapes your lips as you hit the punching bag again and again. The sweat beads down your neck as you work up a sweat training. You groan as your muscles feel as if they are on fire while your knuckles will surely be bruised later.

"Razve balerine ne pozdno bodrstvovat?"

You knew the low voice behind you. Isn't it late for a ballerina to be up?...your mind translated his Russian. The fear ran your blood go cold as you dared to face or more mask of the man behind you.

In front of you stood none other than the Winter Soldier. Most feared assassin Hydra had created. He moved through the shadows like a ghost, the glint of metal the only hint that he was anything more than human. His hair, long and dark, fell into his eyes — eyes that were cold, distant, a storm trapped in steel blue. They carried no warmth, no recognition, only purpose.

"I just wanted to train."

Your voice meek and small as the Soldier towered above you casting a shadow onto your frail frame. You heard him hiss behind the steel as you tried to slow your breathing that was starting to increase.

He could go to Mother and tell her his discovery of you outside the sleeping quarters past curfew. He could cause pain to you if they found out you had broken a rule. There is one thing Mother never tolerated...rule breakers.

"Smh...You call that training? Your body will give out on you before you gain the muscle, Malenkaya balerina."

Little Ballerina.

The pet name escaping from his lips made your spine bristle.

The Soldier's first made contact with your ribs faster than you could comprehend as your body buckled under the force. Your hands splayed across the floor as your vision blurred as his boots appeared in your peripheral.

"Get up."

Your muscles screamed out as you stood straight looking ahead at the Soldier. His left arm gleamed beneath the dim light, a work of terrible beauty — smooth steel, etched with the red star of the Soviet machine that had remade him. The steel wound to life as you prepared for another blow...but it never came.

Your eyes met the Soldier's eyes, the deepest blue but behind them a man built from fragments, stitched together with secrets and pain. The mask he wore covered the lower half of his face, reducing him to eyes and metal — a weapon rather than a person.

The Soldier slowly stalked closer to you as you stood perfectly still hoping he didn't notice your body shake at every motion he made towards you.

"You need to get stronger before you can efficiently train. Your too weak. Another blow would kill you instantly, nonetheless, from a killer like me."

As the Soldier towered over you, it was like time slowed for an instant. Your body seemed to have a mind of its own as your hand gently placed itself on the cool metal under your fingertips. The Soldier didn't move when the hiss of the connecting piece of the mask came to life.

The cool wooden floor met your chest faster than you could retract your hand. Your breath coming out as a gasp as you felt the Soldiers hand on the back of your neck keeping you splayed to the floor. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath.

"Go to bed, little ballerina."

In the morning your muscles screamed more than normal as you tried to get through the day. The cold porridge as breakfast did little to fill your stomach. The hours of dance practice caused your feet to bleed through your shoes more than normal. The beating your body received; however, light left the bruises littered across your frail body.

All day your body wanted to give up.

All day you wanted to give into the fatigue and darkness.

The little will power you had pushed you through the day.

When the night encroached, you laid in your cot like the rest of the girls. Your body ached keeping you from your slumber. As your eyelids became heavier the slight movement in the corner of your eye made you turn your head. The door was slightly ajar, and you know Mother never forgot to lockup before bedtime.

Slowly you made your way through the Red Room until you saw the only door with light escaping it.

Your tumbling hand pushed it open as you saw the training room with the Soldier standing in the middle.

"Your body is getting weaker, little ballerina." The Soldier's low groan echoed through the empty room. The Soldier moves his hand from behind his back to reveal a plate as he slowly knelt to the floor. He settled the plate on the floor moving as if you were a deer he would spook in the woods. "Need to be eating more if your gonna survive."

You couldn't help rushing to the plate of warm food as the soft bread elicited a groan from the back of your throat. The meat was salty but you didn't care as the Soldier watched you consume the meal. You were too busy eating to hear his low voice.

The fresh coat of paint did little to disguise the memories that flooded back to you instantly when seeing the neon pink flashing sign in the window. 

The side parking lot where you unabashedly made out for what felt like hours in the back of a tinted Dodge Challenger. 

The upstairs loft where you’d spend hours studying with textbooks sprawled across the floor. Giggles filling the air for what seemed like an eternity. 

The front door where you had walked through that fateful night. The boy standing there is a ribbed white tank top and torn jeans that made your knees weak at the sight. 

The bell above the door was almost enough to take you out of your twilight until the silence was deafening across the bar. Your friends pregamed too hard to notice the stares that turned towards the front door of the seedy dive bar tucked into the country lines. Bar was filled with men and leather drinking beers with pretty women draped at their sides. 

The click clack of your heels was the only sound you heard when your eyes met with the steel blue ones. He looked good, well he always looked good to you. The boy had grown up into a strapping man built like a stallion with a jawline that would make any women weak in the knees. 

If only you’d not walked away, maybe your life would be here. 

The sinking of acrylic nails dug into your bicep and the smell of similar purfume wafted into your nostrils. She was always protective of him, ironic since he was older and four times her size but you weren’t stupid enough to underestimate her. She gave him something you’d never be able to now….undying and unconditional love. 

“Get out.” Her tone anything but soft, not loud but just loud enough for you to hear over the blasting music echoing in the bar. 

You took a steadying breath, “Hey Rebel…” 

“You don’t get to call me that. You lost all of that when you left him.” 

You didn’t need the reminder of that fateful night. She probably didn’t know the whole story, why would she? Not everyone had to be brought into your twisted love affair that ended in tragedy Too soon after it started. 

The rising giggles stole both of your attention when Lucky asked the group of girls what they were celebrating. You inwardly cringed knowing what the next steps would be. Fuck. 

“We are here for a bridal shower!” Your one friend way too drunk to even stand straight laughed while pointing to you as the bride to be. You must be a glutton for punishment to even think that this would be a remotely good idea that didn’t end up in you getting your ass kicked by Rebel. You didn’t blame her either. 

You could take the beating, but what you couldn’t is the brief wave of sadness in those steel eyes before the hatred took its place.