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As I dropped my hands, the door opened behind me.
My heart jumped as my focus flew back to the mirror—and I caught sight of Finn as he stepped into the room.
Our gazes locked in the reflection as he leaned back against the door, shoving his hands into his pockets. He was dressed in regular street clothes, a soft blue t-shirt and cargo pants. The shirt clung to the broad expanse of his chest and his thick biceps as he shifted slightly, cocking his head at me.
“What are you doing here, Legs?”
“How do you always know when I come here?”
The lazy, easy smile I liked so much bloomed across his face, dimples appearing in his lightly tanned cheeks. “I’d say it’s my sixth sense, but actually, this time I just saw you walking across campus. You could’ve called one of us. We would’ve come with you.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t really want company.”
His head dipped in a nod, and he pressed away from the door, pulling his hands out of his pockets. “You want me to go?”
“No.”
The word slipped out before I had a chance to think about it, but it wasn’t a lie. The second he’d walked inside the room, some tangled, knotted part of myself had unclenched, making it easier to breathe.
His smile returned, both brighter and softer than it had been before, and he stepped forward tentatively, coming to stand a few feet to the side behind me, still gazing at me through the mirror.
“So, what are you doing here?”
“I don’t know.” I huffed a small laugh, shifting my focus from him back to the girl in the reflection. “I just came to… look, I guess.”
It sounded dumb when I said it, but Finn didn’t laugh. In my periphery, I saw him nod seriously.
“What do you see?”
My throat worked as I swallowed, and pain flashed through the eyes of the girl in the mirror. “I don’t know. I don’t—I don’t feel like myself.?
??
“What do you mean?”
I shook my head, staring hard at my reflection. My leg was looking better—though it was still too thin, the scars that marred the flesh still too bright and pink. But I knew it wasn’t strong enough to support me the way I wanted it to, and I could see the slight angle of my body as I held most of my weight on my left leg.
From the outside, I looked almost like I always had, except for the scars that decorated my body now. It was as if someone had taken the old me and drawn on her with a purple-pink marker—uneven, jagged slashes with no rhyme or reason.
But on the inside, nothing felt the same.
I dragged in a deep breath, turning away from the mirror to face Finn, meeting the bright blue of his eyes as he gazed at me.
“I… I never thought of myself as the most beautiful girl in the world. I didn’t have perfect hair or perfect skin or perfect boobs. But none of that really mattered, because when I danced, I felt beautiful. I felt beautiful because of what my body could do, the way it could move and—”
I broke off, biting my lip. I shifted a little more of my weight to my right leg, letting the burn flow up my muscles.
“I miss ballet so much. It’s like what you said that day. Dance is like a—a language. It’s like speaking, telling a story. I used to be able to tell stories with my body. Now I feel like… a fucking mute.”
Bitterness tinged the last word, and against my will, a tear slid down my cheek.
Fuck. I hadn’t meant to let this much of my pain out. I always tried to keep it shoved down, compressed and locked up tight, buried under my determination and hope.
But it was there all the same.
Finn’s brows drew together, and I saw his gaze sweep over me as his expression turned thoughtful.
“I dunno about that, Tal. I know you miss dance, and I hate that for you. But I think your body still tells some pretty incredible stories.”
