Note: This one was so difficult to get right… and I don’t think I managed to do it. Sorry. Thank you very *veeery* much for reviewing. It really makes my day. And special thanks to Vbabe11, who inadvertenly drove me out of a dead end *grin*.

Disclaimers: See prologue.

She was tired.

She had no idea how things had reached this point and she didn't even want to think about it most of the time. But at night, all of her shields went down and her feelings overwhelmed her, making it hard for her to sleep.

It was like trying to stop a landslide; every minute beside him was a struggle, and she would have felt disappointed for her lack of strength in fulfilling her self-promise had she not been too busy trying to keep her heart in check every time he cartwheeled past her, greeted her or even looked at her.

It just wasn’t easy anymore, and she wondered if it had ever been.

She needed to be near him, to see him smile, to catch light traces of his smell on the air. She needed to hear his voice, feel his eyes on hers, be with him, even if she just managed to do so a little every day.

And at night, dreams of him plagued her mind. His touch, his lips on hers, the heat that made her wake up half afraid and half frustrated…

Sometimes she felt it was too much. Sometimes she felt she would explode from all the feelings bubbling up inside her. And she had absolutely no idea how things had gotten to this point.

She punched her mattress in frustration as her pillow muffled her half-groans, low, so she didn’t wake her uncle up.

She needed some other thing to think about, so she decided to focus on her academy and the improvements the kids were achieving.

Finally able to calm herself a little she felt sleep slowly creeping in on her, she prayed for a dreamless one.

***

Paul was one of her most hard working students. He was 15 and he dreamt of becoming a professional modern dancer, so he had began attending Stephanie’s little academy since its beginning, little more than a year ago, and always stayed 20 minutes after everyone had gone home, practicing alone with her.

He was also a shy young man, it had been really hard for Stephanie to make him stop calling her Miss Stephanie.

“Stephanie, you look pale,” he said.

“It’s nothing, Paul. I’m just a little tired,” she smiled at him and took the bottle of water that he was handing her.

“Stephanie…,” he began, and the strain on his voice made her look at him with concern. He was blushing furiously and clenching his fists, not looking at her at all. “Well… I… have a brother… an older brother… really he is just 18, but he thinks he is some great thing and he is just… stupid and…”

Stephanie relaxed a little. “You should appreciate your brother… I would like very much having an older brother..."

“No, if he was Luke, you wouldn't…. Anyway,” Paul took a deep breath and looked at her with something that only could be described as desperation. “He said he would begin picking me up after classes. I told him I’m old enough and that I’ve been going everywhere in town perfectly by my own since I was like... six?" He shook his head, obviously upset. “But he didn’t pay any attention. He's going to come here today… I thought I should tell you... I think he has a crush on you,” he blurted out, rolling his eyes. “So… please, just ignore him and he will go away,” Paul finally ended and breathed, looking by all means mortified.

Stephanie, on the other hand, was puzzled. She didn’t even remember this Luke, even though it was a really small town. How could it be that someone whom she hadn’t even talked to was interested in her?

“I don’t think I have met your brother. Paul, are-"

“Then let me introduce myself,” said suddenly an unknown voice from behind her, startling her. “My name is Luke, I’m Paul’s brother. Nice to meet you,” a tall, blondish teen, with long hair gathered in a low ponytail offered his hand to her in greeting. She shook it on reflex and he smiled.

“I’m Stephanie, Paul’s-”

“I know,” he interrupted her again. “Paul hasn’t stopped talking about you since I came back,” he said ruffling his embarrassed younger brother’s hair. “So I felt compelled to meet his wonderful dance teacher."

“Why don’t you tell her that you really-"

“Go gather your stuff, shrimp,” he ordered breaking for a second his cool façade. “Mom’s waiting for us at home.”

Paul mumbled something under his breath and went to change.

“You shouldn’t treat him like that,” Stephanie said, upset, once her student couldn’t hear her. “He’s your brother, and family is the most important thing we have.”

“Sorry.”

“It isn’t me you should be apologizing to.”

“Yes, it is. I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. I often have problems relating to my brother, maybe because I don’t quite know how to express my affection towards him. I am trying to work on it, but sometimes I just… slip. I’m sorry.”

Stephanie didn’t know how to react. She felt somehow awkward at him opening up so much when they had just met.

“I made you uncomfortable again. I’m sorry,” he said, but she knew he didn't. “Next week I’ll bring you something to express my apology.”

Paul emerged then and grabbed his brother’s arm, dragging him with him and hastily waving goodbye at Stephanie, who just stood there, confused and frustrated.

***

The week went by and on Saturday she was practicing some difficult steps with Paul. They had been preparing a choreography for an audition at an arts academy Paul had applied to and both were working really hard at it.

She was flushed and disheveled and grinning with the satisfaction of long hours of work. The section of the choreography they were working on that day was especially difficult and she was particularly happy and proud of him being able to go through it three times in a row without flaws.

“Ok,” she said, panting slightly. “I think we got that one down. I want to watch you do it all over once, from the top.”

Paul nodded and tried to catch his breath while she walked to the radio to play the song again.

When it started, he began dancing and she watched, her critic eye finding only small details. She smiled and rested her back against the wall, relaxing herself and actually enjoying her student’s performance.

“You really are an amazing teacher,” a voice she recognized as Luke’s said beside her, making a cold run down her spine.

“He is a very talented young man,” she said without looking at him, her eyes intently fixed on Paul, who had reached the part of the choreography they had been practicing that day and was executing it superbly.

Stephanie clapped, forgetting about Luke.

“That was great!” she congratulated him. “I think we need to work some of the movements at the beginning, but overall it was great!”

“Thank you, Stephanie, I-,” he began, but then spotted his older brother beside her “You’re here. Again.”

“Yup.”

“Ok, I'll go change," said Paul, looking unpleased and just short of rolling his eyes.

“I just don’t get you. Neither of you,” sighed Stephanie, seconds away from exasperation.

“You clearly don’t have siblings, that's why you don’t understand,” replied Luke, poking her shoulder.

“No, I don’t. I only have my uncle, he is the only family I have left and I cherish him above everything else, because family is *important*!"

“Ow wow ow,” Luke raised his hands in a defeat gesture and chuckled. “I seem to have a gift for upsetting you.”

“Yes, you do!,” she blurted out, fumingly. Then, realizing what she had said, she covered her mouth with her hands and blushed. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized, the sound somewhat muffled by her own hands.

“Don’t worry,” he patted her head and she could barely restrain herself from stepping back. He noted it and stopped doing it immediately, almost serious for the first time. “Like I said, a gift for upsetting you,” a little smile insinuated itself on his lips, a heartfelt one. He looked intently into her eyes for a couple of seconds and she felt that shiver in her spine again, cold and disturbing. Suddenly he broke his stare and took off a backpack she hadn’t seen, kneeling down to search for something inside. “Here,” was the only warning he gave before throwing something at her.

She caught the object easily and looked at it. It was an apple, or at least it had the shape of one.

“Oh… it’s….”

“An apple.”

“Pink?”

He smiled almost sheepishly and scratched the back of his head.

“Yeah,” he began. “My grand dad was a patissier… but, since granny had diabetes, he worked all of his live to make non-sugary sweets as tasty as the sugared ones. I copied some of his recipes years ago, before he passed away. I enjoyed making cakes and all kind of things with him,” he looked lost in memories for a second, with a dreamy stare in his eyes, and Stephanie tough she would like him so much better if he was like that all the time. But it was just a fleeting moment and afterwards he resumed his cool attitude, to Stephanie’s dismay. “This, I… painted the apple with sugar-free pink frosting,” he explained. “Since my brother told me that you, kind of… liked the color pink and… “sports candies”… or something like that…” he drew the quotation marks in the air with his index and middle fingers.

Stephanie smiled.

“Thank you; it’s a very nice gesture,” the smile was genuine but somehow didn’t light up her eyes. Luke didn’t seem to notice. “Although I feel kind of sad to eat it… it’s so cute I just-"

“Stephanie,” Luke suddenly cut her out. “Would you go out with me? Sometime? To the movies or… skating… or… whatever...”

“I… well…”

Paul choose that moment to appear. He looked at Stephanie’s dumbfounded expression, then at the expectant, somewhat smug, look on his brother’s face and let out an exasperated moan.

“Luke, let’s go?”

“I’ll pick you up next Saturday, at six,” Luke said while being dragged away again.

“But…,” began Stephanie, but never got to finish the sentence, since Luke interrupted her again.

“At six. See ya!”

She could only blink and gape as they half-ran away, leaving her frozen in the middle of her backyard.

***

She stared at the blank page of her diary and grimaced.

Ever since she could remember she had written on her diary every day, about her day, her friends, everything she experienced so she could remember it clearly afterwards. If she didn’t feel like writing she would draw. Sometimes she did both.

Every day.

Now she found herself at loss, of the intention and will of writing or drawing or anything. She had even came outside and sat under her favorite tree, hoping that some kind of inspiration reached her, but she had been staring at the same blank page for over 20 minutes and nothing had happened.

She felt nothing but a strange kind of nervousness, one that made her feel almost ill. Her stomach ached and every time she thought about the quickly approaching Saturday, her palms sweated.

Luke frustrated her. A lot. Even though she had really seen him only twice. His personality was so strong it made her feel almost cornered, unable to put boundaries or defend her personal space or anything hers. Not even Robbie Rotten (long ago busy annoying younger children in town) had made her feel so annoyed in so little time.

But she had always believed in taking other people’s feelings into account and respecting them, even if she didn’t quite know how to deal with unwanted advances. To ignore him or do anything she knew may hurt him was against everything she believed in. On the other hand, Luke didn’t make it precisely easy to have any kind of conversation with him; always interrupting her and imposing himself.

She sighed, abruptly closing her diary over her lap and resting her forehead over it. She would have started banging her head against it if she hadn’t became aware of *him* approaching. She had somehow became attuned to his movements, even his slow, delicate ones. She could *feel* him when he was near.

‘How can I be your friend if I feel this way every time you are near me?’

“Stephanie… are you alright?” he asked and sat beside her, posing a hand gently over her shoulder. It burnt, and it made her want to hug him, and it made her want to scream, and it made her want to run; all at once. She felt her stomach knotting itself in all the right ways and fire igniting her face in all the inconvenient ways, and she felt ice cold pain, cutting her soul in all the wrong ways.

She tried to move, to breathe, to talk. She failed. Her heart was beating so fast not even a really intense soccer match would justify it. She sighed again.

“Starjna?” He insisted, mild alarm tinting his voice.

Gathering all the strength she had left she raised her head and flashed him what she hopped was a smile.

“Yes, Sportacus, I’m fine,” she answered, steadying her expression.

“You look tired,” he said softly, half turning her to him with one hand while the other one lightly caressed her cheek. She leaned into the caress, happily enjoying this rare stolen moment.

Oh, she was tired. And she had been so tense that now, suddenly relaxed by his sheer presence, her body felt heavy and limp. Her shoulders hunched forward and she may have fallen to her side, but he was there. In a blink he was holding her against him, the hand previously posed in her shoulder now on her hair, his other arm loosely circling her waist.

“I am exhausted," she finally murmured against his chest. Her body seemed to act on its own volition when she inched herself towards him, drowning on his warmth.

He rested his chin on the top of her head and pulled her closer, closing his eyes. He was tired too.

After minutes that felt too short, he noticed her breath slowing down, as if she was falling asleep. The sun has already set and the temperature was dropping fast. Their stolen time had to end.

“Eh?” Was all that Stephanie could mumble. She had been almost falling asleep, content and warm in Sportacus arms when suddenly she had stopped feeling the ground below her.

“I’m taking you home," Sportacus answered her unspoken question.

She probably would have wanted to protest, to say that she could perfectly walk on her own, but this felt too good. Being carried in Sportacus’ strong arms through the night to the safety of her home was a dream. She felt safe and she felt vulnerable, and this felt just.. right. She lifted her arms and held onto his neck, burying her face in his chest.

He smelt of sandal, of soap, of salt, and of something spicy and secret that made all her being tingle with something she hadn’t ever felt before, something powerful, deep; something that would have scared her if she wasn’t with him. But this felt right. It felt right to surrender herself, just for a moment, to burn inside and to ache this way, to give herself a truce even if it was only because she couldn’t have acted on it even if she had wanted to.

‘So tired…’

She finally gave up and let go of Sportacus’ neck, folding her arms over her chest instead and resting all her weight on the strong arms that held her. She knew he could take it and she knew he would never let her fall.

“Oh my! Stephanie!!” The worried voice of her uncle reached her from afar, like she was hearing it through a wall of jelly. She tried to open her eyes but sleep pulled her down and made it impossible.

“Good evening, Mayor Meanswell,” whispered Sportacus as greeting. She could hear his voice reverberating in his chest when he spoke, a solid but thin beacon to the reality as she felt herself go deeper and deeper into slumber. She felt so safe and relaxed not even the light and noise could wake her completely up.

“Something happened? Is Stephanie alright?” Her uncle was whispering now too.

“I found her at the park, she had been writing on her diary but I guess she was too tired and almost fell asleep. That’s why I brought her home.”

“Oh… Well… Fine…” the Mayor stuttered with relief, “I almost had a heart attack. I thought she’d had an accident.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Oh… Thank you Sportacus. For bringing her back,” the Mayor said, then looked thoughtful for a second. “Do you think you could take her upstairs to her room, though? I don't think I can do it myself,” he looked embarrassed for a little while.

“Of course, Mayor.”

Stephanie kind of heard him going up the stairs and opening her bedroom door. She slightly felt him taking off her sneakers and arranging the bed covers around her, tucking her up. Then, she distinctly felt his hand gently caressing her hair before he bent down and kissed her forehead. She would have melt, but unconsciousness quickly claimed her and she fell asleep, taking Sportacus’ kiss with her to the land of dreams.

“Goodnight, Starjna,” he softly whispered before leaving.