Threads Of Forever

-LIFETIME FOUR-

But as the door shut behind her, she couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he had seen something in her that no one else had. And that thought lingered longer than she was willing to admit.
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The next few weeks were filled with their usual back-and-forth. Carter's teasing never ceased, always aimed at pushing her boundaries, but always with that same infectious charm. He found joy in rattling her-making her fluster, making her react, just to see how far he could go. And Elle, though she hated to admit it, always rose to the bait, even though her own frustration simmered beneath the surface.

There were moments when she couldn't deny it: part of her looked forward to their encounters. The way he seemed to be able to make her feel things she didn't want to feel-rage, amusement, curiosity. She hated how easily he slipped into her thoughts, how he made her heart race when she least expected it. She didn't want to like him. She didn't want to be drawn to him. But something about him-his carefree attitude, his incessant teasing, that unshakeable charm-made her question everything she thought she knew about herself.

One day, after a particularly brutal rehearsal, Elle found herself sitting alone in the studio, her muscles aching from the effort. The sharp sting of exhaustion was almost a welcome distraction from the thoughts swirling in her mind. She'd been so focused on her craft, on perfecting every pirouette, every grand jeté, that she hadn't realized how much she had been thinking about Carter.

It was then that she heard the soft click of the door opening behind her.

She tensed, her back straightening, already dreading the sound of his voice.

"Looks like someone's been working too hard," Carter's teasing voice came, light but with an undercurrent of something more. "Don't overdo it, Elle. You're starting to look like a machine. I thought you had more life in you than that."

Elle didn't turn around. "What do you want?" she said, her voice clipped.

Carter leaned against the doorframe, watching her with those mischievous golden eyes. "I was thinking... maybe you could teach me a thing or two. You know, since you seem so passionate about your 'craft.'"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You're asking me to teach you ballet? That's rich."

Carter grinned, stepping forward. "Sure, why not? You never know, you might end up with a whole new fanbase-skateboarders who appreciate a good plié."

Elle's heart thumped unexpectedly in her chest, the faintest flutter that she quickly brushed aside. "I'm not teaching you anything," she replied curtly.

But even as she said the words, she wondered-just how far would she go to deny the spark between them?
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Over the next few weeks, Elle found herself encountering Carter more often than she would have liked. Whether it was outside the ballet studio, on the streets near her apartment, or at the local park where he frequently practiced, he seemed to always be there. Always teasing, always smiling that irresistible grin that made her insides twist with an unfamiliar discomfort.

One evening, after a particularly challenging rehearsal, Elle stepped outside the studio into the crisp night air, hoping to clear her mind. But as she rounded the corner of the building, there he was-Carter, perched on his skateboard, watching her with an infuriatingly casual expression.

"I swear, you have a sixth sense for showing up at the most inconvenient times," she muttered under her breath, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

Carter chuckled, pushing off the pavement with a smooth motion, gliding toward her with ease. "Maybe I'm just following you," he teased. "Not that you'd mind, right?"