In truth, she’s never danced with anyone before, though in times of great grief she had always danced in secluded areas, undisturbed when the weight of the world had taken its toll on her. She could hear the gentle music playing softly in the background while the crickets chirped as the two girls swayed to the sound of freedom in the form of the sweet melody of Romance in F Minor, Op.11, B.39 by Antonin Dvorak. She’d taken Sophie’s hands in hers after having seen her cry out her sorrow on her shoulder, and invited her to dance, just as when she’d first offered her hand when she’d first rescued her when the ship was sinking. It’d been a year since then and the remaining residents had been rebuilding the school and their lives while mourning their dead. In all that time, Sophie had followed her around like a lost puppy. It was rather tragic, actually, but the girl could never blame her, nor would she ever reject her company. During this time, they’d grown close. It was to be expected, after Sophie had been traded off like she was nothing, abandoned and almost been murdered by her own sister, she couldn’t say she blamed her.
Clementine had never seen anyone so gentle, so kind, so sweet and so imaginative. Her smile could light up the world and her masterpieces burned into her soul. Her eyes were as blue as the ocean and her hair was as red as roses, the sunset and flames. In truth, Clementine’s never met anyone like her before. She had discovered a kind of peace, as she’d watched the girl draw and paint portraits and on the walls of empty rooms. She was a vision, and Clementine was loath to look away.Oddly enough, Clementine found herself completely entranced by everything about her. She was absolutely stunning, and she wasn’t just thinking it due to her limited experience with girls.
She had the most fascinatingly fiery red hair she had ever seen. This was a first for her. It looked incredibly soft, which begged the question: was it really as soft as it looked? She was overcome with the desire to touch it, to find out for herself. She had fathomless ocean eyes, deep dark pools that trapped the gazer and didn’t let her go. The way she moved suggested that she might have been a dancer, or an angel, or at the very least a princess. Sophie’s footsteps were light and silent, and she moved with a grace that she had never witnessed upon the battlefield. She… moved her. Just watching her, she felt funny… different. Like nothing else mattered. Like the skies had opened up and placed her upon this earth just to distract her from her hassles, to remind her that, no matter how many people get blown to bits on a battlefield, or how many friends one lost in a war, there was still goodness in it worth fighting for. She instilled in her a sense that something waited for her when this was all over. She was so sublimely out of place out here that she found she couldn’t look away. She didn’t want to look away.
Every movement at the corners of her mouth, every graceful twist of the wrist as she worked, and the way her gaze slid over toward her, seriously calm and observant, her shy and sweet smiles, as she checked to make sure she was well, fascinated her. They were the barest, most tantalizing hints as to the girl she actually was, and she needed more.
As they moved around the room in tranquil silence, Clem smiled softly at her, her eyes bright with barely concealed joy as she twirled the other girl around, a hand steady on her waist with her free hand on her prosthetic arm. She said nothing, not wanting to ruin the moment yet the look on her face expressed everything Sophie needed to know.
And so the lion fell in love with the lamb.
