Thread: Worlds Apart [ Dimitri x Plutonium ]

The music blared loud enough for her to feel vibrations beneath her bare feet. She didn't feel it for long, however-- she was moving much to fast. Dance ran through her veins as strong as her Italian blood. From as early as she could remember she eat, slept and breathed the art. Tap, jazz, salsa, hip-hop she knew it all, and had the trophies and ribbons to prove it. By far her favorite kind of dance was ballet. It was all poised and precise movements. One needed to be swift, graceful...careful. It was quite ironic given the same characteristics could be applied to the jobs her family did. Or rather, the 'Family' partook in. The word family had a somewhat different meaning in her home. The Underworld, Mafioso, The Mob-- they all meant the same thing The Mafia. It was father's line of work, as well as her uncle's, her grandfather's, and her male cousins'. Being the daughter of one of the most well-known men in the crime world meant she lived a spoiled life. Which was lovely, of course, but there were some set backs. Talking back to her father meant a slap to the face rather than a warning. To her and most mafia women that was getting off easy. As messed up as it would look from an outsider's point of view, it didn't phase her too much. It was just a way of life. Aside from being expected to submit twenty-four seven-- life wasn't too bad. She knew her father loved her more than life itself. She was his treasure, his jewel, his princess. And that meant she was spoiled beyond compare. From her birth she had been showered with jewelry, dresses, dancing shoes, you name it. Whatever she wanted so be it. Within reason of course. Physical luxuries were just a bat of an eyelash away. Being able to have parties at her home or bring friends over was out of the question. Staying out late even more so. Over-protective was an understatement for her. School dances were somehow infiltrated by her father's men they claimed to be chaperons. At friend's sleepovers she could always see glimpses of them from the upstairs window. She was always being babysat. The only times she was free was when she got to dance. Her father had remodeled the dark and dreary room to become a dance studio as soon as she showed interest in the activity. Her mother had been a dancer, as well as her mother's own mother. It was only natural for the next generation of the Fiore women to be born with dancing in her blood. So from the minute she could walk and bob back and forth to music, she was taught. Hours upon hours were spent in that dance studio. Thousands of dollars went towards top of the line instructors and sound systems, not to mention music and renovations for when the ceiling leaked after harsh rain. Even when her lungs begged for her to stop and muscles screamed in agony she pushed through. Despite harsh words, constant injuries and lack of free time-- she adored it. The rush, the reward, the sounds, the feelings. Everything about dancing made her feel free when in reality she felt confined. Not only did dancing make her feel alive-- It kept her sane from the cruel realities of what came with all of the money and power. The true darkness of her family's 'underworld.' After the song ended she grabbed the wireless remote to the stereo and played the song for a third time. Running this new routine had become like a drug to her. Moderncontemporary ballet was by far her favorite type of dancing. Ballet itself held so much emotion. It was a lot like her dramatic or so her father and his men joked. The movements ranged from delicate to harsh. It could slow down or speed up in an instant and it always told a story. The routine she had been working on just went with the flow of the music . There was no story or emotion she was trying to convey, she just loved the way it sounded. Watching herself in the mirror she watched warily. Her moves flower perfectly this time around, but it didn't mean her form was sharp. If only her coach was there, but she wouldn't be coming until tomorrow to coach her for the next competition. In the mean time it was practice, practice, practice. When she finished this routine she would probably show her mother. Or maybe her father if he had time. He had always fondly watched her dance as a child, but lately he had become very busy. Locked up in his office or out of the manor. Maybe she could show Zael. The minute his name popped into her mind she felt her form falter. With a gasp, she stopped herself from falling and stopped in a huff. With several huffs of air she hunched over, placing her hands on her knees. Damn it. Damn him for making her literally and figuratively fall for him. Zael was...well he was her childhood friend. Her best friend. Whenever she looked at him it reminded her of dancing, because that's how they met. It had been just after the studio was finished. Whether it was her second or third lesson she couldn't remember...but she remembered him. He had been leaning against the mirror that lined the wall with her next-door neighbor Miss Linda. Despite being so engrossed by the ballet routine her instructor was teaching her, she remembered being distracted by his hair and his presence in general. But even now she could remember smiling and being giddy about someone watching her. A boy no less! She probably showed off that day, hell, she still did if he came to watch her competitions. Afterwards they played next door in Miss Linda's garden. He had so many questions about...well everything. Growing up he had tons of questions. Somethings he asked seemed random, but that's what she loved about him. Well, it wasn't the only thing. He was sweet, but also a smart ass. He drove her crazy, but he also protected her, even when she didn't want protecting. Lord knows she was protected enough as it was. He was like an older brother. No, no, actually it was more like she was his little sister. And for a little while she had felt like that, too. One day that dynamic changed. It had been her middle-school graduation party. Since it was held at her house only family blood-related or work-related was invited. That meant it was a bunch of adults drinking fine wine and being loud and obnoxious. Big family celebrations in the Mafia were always a blast laughing, singing, etc. But there was never anyone to hang about with. Even keeping Azel in the dark, he was still given permission to attend. After greeting her family with kisses on both cheeks, hugs, thank you's and small-talk her and Azel escaped to her dance studio. For a while they just sat and talked beneath the sounds of the party upstairs. That was when she decided to teach him how to partner dance. She could remember grabbing his hands and intertwining their fingers precisely. Finger by finger. She remembered twirling under his arm over and over. Laughing when she got dizzy and nearly fell. She remembered catching his eye and realizing her heart was beating much too fast for a simple dance like the one they were sharing. It was the first time in her life she suddenly felt very shy around him. Since then, her feelings had grown to the point where she becomes a jealous mess whenever she spies one of those stupid love letters in his locker. Even when they joke about reading them she had the uncontrollable urge to rip the sweet smelling paper to shreds. Every girl that sent him these notes was beautiful, or curvy, or smart, or part of a family without blood on their hands. Things she wasn't. Well, she had very good grades and her parent's gave her a pretty face, luckily. But as a dancer she was lithe and skinny, not curvy in all the right places. Not to mention she was tiny. Every partner she had danced with in the pass had no problems lifting her. In fact they all commented on it being too easy. She loathed her size. Some of the boys that flirted with her claimed it was 'adorable' or that she probably needed protecting. No. No she didn't. As a daughter of the Capo di tutti capi of the Mafioso world She didn't need anyone to look after her. And she made that very clear to everyone. Still gasping for breath the music continued to pound into her ears. It was then she suddenly heard a very faint yelling. Raising her head, she saw her mother standing in the stairway of the studio. As always when the music was too loud, her mother looked extremely annoyed. Even with the music still blaring her eyes could read her mother's lips She was yelling her name. Serafina Fiammetta Palladino! At this point, Serafina swore she could see the veins on her mother's neck popping out. That meant the music was way too loud to try to talk over. Not wanting to be the reason her mother lost her voice, Serafina quickly pushed the 'off' button on the remote. In a second the room was silent, the only sound that remained was the inner ringing of her ears from the remnants of the music. With an annoyed look and arms crossed, her mother sighed dramatically. How many times do I have to tell you to turn it down at least a little? You are going to be the death of your and my hearing! As many times as she heard this lecture, Serafina knew her mother loved dancing to loud music as much as she did, of course she would never admit to it. Sorry, mom! You should know not to even try yelling anymore, though. Serafina joked before grabbing her phone and gasping. Shit, I danced too long! She groaned reading the text from Zael indicating he was just outside. Watch your language, signorina! But that's what I've been trying to tell you. He's been at the gate for more than 15 minutes. Change out of that sweaty outfit of yours right now. Even before she finished Serafina was sprinting past her and up the stairs. Be home by 10 o' clock Serafina! -- Speed changing had become a usual activity for her. Her friends and family constantly teased her for getting so caught up in dancing that she barely had any idea what was going on around her. Not only was she teased about dancing but she was teased about being tiny, and being too hot-headed. But above all she was teased the most about a certain someone with platinum-blond hair. The minute Zael's named popped up into a conversation Serafina's head popped up like some sort of puppy dog. As a child she had been told she followed him around like one, too. Even now they were inseparable at school, after school, even at night they snuck out to hang in his Aunt's garden. Tonight it was going to be a bit chilly on the beach at night, so she wore a warm, off the shoulder purple sweater and a pair of black leggings with very casual sandals.Just in case, she brought a loose hoodie for herself and a blanket for them to sit on if they were to watch the sunset. The last time she had been to the beach was a lavish family vacation years in the past. Even then, she had never seen a beach sunset. Ponytail swaying as she ran, she opened the gate and rushed toward the car with a big smile. Sorry to keep you waiting. I was um-- well you know. She shrugged and got into the passenger seat. It was an unspoken law that the seat in the front was her's. No matter who they hung out with, male or female, she always had shotgun next to him. It wasn't even because she called it, it was just how their friendship worked. -- The minute they pulled up to the beach she booked it out of the car. Waiting for him hadn't even crossed her mind. The first thing she did the minute her sandals hit the sand was take the stupid pair of shoes off. If there was one thing she hated it was wearing shoes. Being barefoot felt so...free. When she danced barefoot she felt so much lighter and faster. Not to mention she had never liked her feet felling confined, not to mention feeling confined in general. After putting the into her drawstring bag she began to look for a spot to put there stuff down. The side of the beach they were on was basically bare of people. It wasn't quite summer yet, so swimming at night wasn't an option for anyone. But the spring sunsets were fair game. Finding a spot away from the shore, she put the blanket and her bag down before turning sighing in content. The breeze felt refreshingly cool against the back of her neck. There had been no chance to shower, so during the entire car ride she had the air conditioning blast on high and beforehand made sure to use deodorant and perfume. Much to excited to sit still she began to run toward the water, doing as many intricate twirls as possible. With the sky filled with hues of orange, pinks and reds, the light hitting her body made her look the perfect personification of her very name. Serafina and Fiametta both translated into words that meant 'fire.' And there she was moving much like a fire's spark with the personality of fire itself. All the more, she had a huge, brilliant smile on her face as the cold sand clumped between her toes. Here, she had not a care in the world. All of the darkness her father's world held for her was outshined by the light of the soon-setting sun. Zael! She yelled between her ballet twirls. Stopping to look at him from afar she began to rush toward him instead. Dance with me! She grasped his hands without a second thought and pulled him toward her.