Page 57 of Loup Garou

Chapter Eleven

I shutthe lights off to my home dance studio and made sure the door was locked. As I turned to head up the stairs to the portion of the apartment I lived in, I heard a faint knock at the door. Putting my hand up to sense who was on the other side, I smiled as I felt Exavier’s energy. I opened the door and sighed at the sight of him.

He’d changed from his turtleneck and dress pants to a snug orange T-shirt with an imprint of Elvis Costello on it, and a pair of loose-fit dark blue jeans. The black leather combat boots he had on suited him nicely. His hair was still wet so I knew he’d taken time to get cleaned up. Thankfully, I’d done the same thing.

I glanced down at my faded grey T-shirt with a screen print of Elvis Presley on it and back at him. “Oh no, we’re dressing alike now too.”

“I don’t think I’d look nearly as good in those pajama bottoms as you do.”

The lightweight, grey cotton bottoms I had on were loose but comfortable. Chuckling, I shrugged and stepped back for him to enter. “I don’t know about that. I got them in the guy’s section. You’re looking at my absolute favorite comfy outfit. The one I toss on to binge on ice cream, play sad music or lie around and watch movies.”

“Do you do that often?”

“No.” I lifted the T-shirt a tiny bit. “That’s probably why I’ve had this outfit since I was sixteen.”

Grinning, he stepped in and looked around. “Umm, do you have furniture?”

I flicked the light switch on and motioned around. “I do but this is my own private dance room.”

“You own an entire rec center. Why do you need another place to dance?” Exavier walked over to the built-in sound system and turned it on. A slower, darker song came on. Exavier turned and gave me an odd look. “How in the hell do you dance to this one?”

“I don’t know. I just do. It’s one of the songs I listen to when I can’t sleep.”

“Me too.” Something strange moved over his face. “I, umm, think it was written because the guy couldn’t sleep.”

Rocking my head back and forth, I listened to it and smiled softly. “This band’s mp3s should be the only ones in the player. They’re the only ones I listen to.”

“Hmm.” He stared at the sound system.

“I have a question for you.” I walked to the barre on the wall out of habit and began to stretch.

“What? Are you finally going to ask what kind of band I have?” He watched me, staying near the sound system.

“No,” I answered. “I figure you’ll tell me when you’re ready. Plus, I’m still trying to picture you singing. You used to hum a lot. I loved it when you would walk around sort of singing. I didn’t care so much for how you yelled at me when I pointed it out to you though.”

“Sorry about that. I’d like to say again, I was a moron.” He lifted his hands in a sweeping gesture and bowed before grinning again. “What was your question?”

“Gina and Myra hear me listening to this song at work too. I’ve accidentally ended up with multiple copies of the same CDs. They tell me to write the names down so I quit buying the same ones. I tell them to bite me. It works out well all around.” I winked as he glanced at me. “Anyways, they told me this one was about running from the horrors of your life. And about how the human mind manifests stress into nightmares, leaving you afraid to fall asleep.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I think everyone believes something along those lines.”

Placing a foot on the barre, I bent the other leg down, careful not to bounce at all. “Hmm, I really need to get out more. I feel like I’m a hundred years old next to other people at times. I didn’t get that out of this. I’m either crazy or not meant to be one who listens too hard to lyrics.”

“What’s your take?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I switched legs on the barre. “It’s just always sort of bugged me. I end up laughing at myself because it’s only a song, but it bothers me when I hear it labeled that way.”

“I really am interested in your take on it. I sort of know these guys.”

I did a tinyrond de jambe, before moving my leg to the side and then out, following the music carefully. The beat changed a bit, getting harder. “See, I think the person who wrote this wasn’t afraid to fall asleep, he was desperate to. So desperate that the harder he tried, the less it worked. I think he went through a spell when he connected in his dreams with someone he cared about. I don’t know who—maybe a lost loved one, someone he couldn’t get to while awake. I think he had a taste of it and then it was ripped away from him without warning.

“I think he blamed himself and felt like if he concentrated hard enough, set his mind to it and tried again and again, he’d be the master of his own dreams. The only problem was, he needed to focus on his inner demons first because his mind and his heart knew that should he connect again, he wasn’t quite strong enough to keep the demons down. No part of him wanted harm to come to the one he was reaching out to, and in the dream realm it’s entirely possible to harm someone if you’re not careful. So, naturally, he wouldn’t allow himself to reach out while asleep regardless how much he wanted to.”

Twisting slightly, I made a large circle with my leg and held my arms out before me, carefully making motions following the song. “But, that’s just my opinion. I’m sure everyone you ask has a different one. Regardless, I like my version so I’m sticking to it. My version left me crying the first time I heard the song. I’m such a sap. I wanted to make it better for him.”

Strong arms wrapped around me. My breath hitched as Exavier pulled me to him and began to move with me. He turned me slightly, held my hand while I moved out with a half-spin and then drew me into him once more. He rocked us back and forth gently as the song played on.

“Mmm, is this a pity dance for my pathetic attempt at relating to music with words?” I asked, jokingly.

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