Practice Makes Perfect (Madame BookWyrm & Mirath)

[Mirath]

“And yet, judges love me.” Max simply replied with a knowing smile, shrugging off her remarks like water off a duck’s back - or gave that impression, anyway - and for a moment his gaze lingered on her for that split second. For those briefest of seconds, he found himself admiring her position and form. But that was all part of training, right? All strictly professional to the last.

Still grinning at the seething Olivia as if nothing was wrong, he soon stepped towards her in his both mental and physical preparation.

Yet, if anyone listened to Max closely enough, even over the music as a new song began to play, they’d have heard how his tone softened ever so slightly.

“Relax, sweetheart... We’ll make them love us.”

Us... That word just slipped out, but yet they were meant to be a team even if they despised each other. It felt weird, so very weird. But in the same fashion, it felt too natural as well, like he was back dancing with Bella again. Maybe he was trying to show off to some degree, but he wouldn’t have ever admitted it.

Would the judges love them?
Oh, they would. Together, just maybe...
Together they’d show them all.

[Madame BookWyrm]

Olivia's jaw clenched tightly when he purposely called her sweetheart again. Why did he have to be the only chance she had while being so completely obnoxious? It was a cruel taunt by the universe, she was certain. Luckily, the music began and Olivia focussed her attention on it instead of her thoughts. Best to leave those alone for the time being.

He had said they would 'make them love us', and she certainly hoped that would be the case, but how could they make the judges love them as a pair when she despised the man who held her in his arms? Frustration bubbled furiously, though as they moved, she could not help the appreciation that began to grow. If only he could be less frustrating and arrogant! But then, what did she expect from him? It was so terribly irritating.

"Good. Good. Again," Pyotr said, then proceeded to tell them what to fix before starting the music once more. The longer they worked in silence, the less annoyed she felt and the more she could appreciate his ability. He really was good. Several times, she almost forgot she was dancing with him and not Ben. It was actually pleasant.

Several hours later, Pyotr stopped them with a satisfied smile. "Good. That was good. Tomorrow we work on the others to be ready for the weekend, da? We test. This is good. You just dance like this and you will win! Good. Good." Nodding to himself, the old dancer left the pair to themselves once again.

Olivia sank to the floor with a tired sigh. "I'll bring my dresses so we can practice properly before the competition. I don't want anything going wrong." In a moment of unexpected candor, she lifted her face to look at him. "I really need to make this work." She was tempted to add 'so stop being an absolute jerk', but chose not to. It would be best not to make things worse than they were already. The practice really had not been bad at all. No need to ruin it.

[Mirath]

Taking a few steps back to clear his head, Max soon sat down himself in much-needed relief. Dancing with Olivia was pretty nice, and after a few minutes often felt so very natural it was like Bella herself was back - although in a less vindictive state.

Resting on the cooler floor, he looked over at Olivia for a few seconds in a tired daze, using a hand to slick his hair back as best he could. He was half-listening as Olivia spoke, and truly looked like he didn’t care about what she had to say. But, in his tiredness, his next sentence was half-filtered, not very thought-out, and very much open to interpretation.
“I’m sure you’ll look great, sweetheart...”

Had this been Pyotr’s plan all along? To wear them both out to the point where even aggression was too much of an effort?

But, in a similar fashion, Max had to turn up to their next practice looking somewhat presentable - and impressive! - if they were going to get this as perfect as they could in time for the competition. Oh, they could win, Max was incredibly sure about that. He didn’t have the time to doubt, to wait, to fail again.

He pushed himself to his feet with a grumble, feet briefly tapping on the floor as if to convey his impatience at the world, and had nothing more to say to Olivia as he walked past where she was resting. For a moment, he paused - and did look like he had something he wanted to say - but walked on by.

Maybe it was a good thing he’d chosen to take his leave then, that frustrating moment leaving him more vulnerable than he would have liked.

But no matter, for the real show was soon about to begin!