Okay guys, here's the final chapter.

Thank you to my wonderful beta, dellaterra – I can't ever praise you enough for the patience and inspiration, your humour and brilliance!

Thank you to DarkBlueBella for pre-reading.

Man, am I grateful that I found the two of you!

Remaining errors and mistakes are all mine.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, alert, fav, and REVIEW!

oOoOoOo

PAS DE DEUX

Chapter 5

Mum immediately notices that something's wrong when I get home. My eyes are red and swollen, and I'm sure I look just as awful as I feel. She tries to comfort me, but I don't want to talk.

I take a long, hot shower and let my hot tears mingle with the spray of water.

What was that?

I was aware that there was something between us, at least from my side, and the idea that he might feel the same way made me delirious as the kiss began. Edward woke sensations I never knew existed. It was so sweet, so tender, but also passionate and… hot.

And then? Nothing.

Did I do something wrong? Was he repulsed by something I did?

I'm sure he has lots more experience than I. Maybe he realised that I'm just not in his league?

Or maybe he thinks I'm too skinny, and my breasts are too small. Because they are really small.

By the time the water runs cold, I'm still crying, wrapping myself into my fluffy pink Hello Kitty bathrobe and hurrying to my room.

I check my mobile – maybe he sent a message, as he often does in the evenings – but nope. Nothing.

I cry myself to sleep, which is uneasy and dreamless.

Ironically, the sun is shining brightly when I wake, and a look into the mirror confirms my suspicions. I look ghastly, my eyes red-rimmed and swollen, my skin blotchy and even paler than usual.

Great. And this is the day of our presentation.

For a second, I consider calling in sick, but I know I'd never forgive myself for that.

Maybe I should send Edward a message before school to clear things up? No, he doesn't deserve one.

I have breakfast with Mum, Nonna and Giaco, and by the time I'm in the tube, my annoyance has turned into a full-blown rage. I want to scream at Edward. How dare he. Maybe this is the way they do things in Chicago, but here, we're different!

In the locker room, the girls are chattering excitedly. Some have chosen rather lavish outfits, with glitter and wings and eccentric hairdos. Others are keeping it as simple as we – Edward and I.

Even thinking of him hurts.

Rosalie Hale, of course, pulls off the most spectacular costume. She and Mike are dancing to the theme of blood, and she's dressed in a red leotard and tutu and red toe shoes. I'm looking forward to seeing Mike in a black coat and fangs.

There's no trace of Edward in the studio where everyone is doing their warmups. Miss Denali joins us, commenting as usual on our postures or positions.

By the time we need to go to the auditorium, Edward still hasn't arrived, and I'm beginning to fear that he's going to stand me up. Everyone is assembling on the stage, and after a few minutes, Mr. Whitlock joins us, accompanied by his beautiful, petite wife, Mary Alice Brandon, who gives us a lovely, encouraging smile.

He speaks a few introductory words, reminding us all to strive for excellence, and that it will be a great honour for the couple that gets chosen to dance before the Queen.

I'm getting really jittery when he says that he is going to announce the order in which the pairings are to perform.

"Okay, lovelies, here goes," he says calmly. "First: Isabella Cigno and Edward Masen."

I'm just about to raise my hand to inform him of my partner's absence, when a large, warm hand touches my arm.

"Sorry," Edward whispers.

Sorry? That's it?

After all the sadness and tears, anger now rears its head again.

I don't reply, and Mr. Whitlock keeps reading names until he, his wife and Miss Denali leave the stage to take their seats, as do the other students.

Edward and I walk into the wings, and while we wait for the lights to dim and the music to start, Edward's hand finds my shoulder.

"Bella," he whispers. "I'm so sorry… I…"

"Not now," I snap, and just then, the music begins.

Slowly, I dance my way unto the stage, knowing full well that with everything between us right now, we're going to be terrible and won't stand a chance of being chosen for the Royal Performance.

That is, until Edward joins me on the stage.

His presence is breathtaking, and it's also invigorating. He totally has me under his spell. The air between us is thick with tension, unspoken words and… passion.

By the time our bodies touch, I'm on fire, and we move as if we were one.

It's sheer magic. It's perfection.

I don't need an audience to tell me that we were good, but when we finish in our final position, there's frenetic applause, and once more, Edward's lips are so, so close to mine.

The lights fade and I storm off the stage, overwhelmed by my inner turmoil.

I know I should be go back to the auditorium to watch my fellow students perform, but I need to get out! I run to the locker room, struggling out of my shoes and into my chucks, slipping on a hoodie and grabbing my bag. Just ten minutes of fresh air.

When I open the door, Edward is waiting on the corridor, leaning against the wall.

"Bella," he says imploringly.

I brush past him, but he follows me.

"Bella, please let me explain!"

By the time I've reached the doors, he's caught up with me. He grabs my arm, but I fight him off, escaping into the sunny autumn day.

"Bella!" He sounds desperate.

My heart is beating erratically, and I finally turn around to face him.

"What do you want?"

"Please," he says miserably. "Just… five minutes. Give me five minutes so I can… explain." He runs a hand through his unruly mop of bronze. "Please."

"Five minutes," I say.

=oOo=

We sit down on the small stairway leading up to the entrance of the school on Floral Street, and the sun bathes us in its warmth.

"I'm so sorry for running away last night." Edward's brows knit together. "I was just so… overwhelmed." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he searches for words. "I've never met anyone like you, Bella. You're so… lively, and gentle… and beautiful…" The last, he says very softly.

"Pshh."

A little smile comes to his face.

"And you don't see yourself clearly at all."

"What does that mean?"

"You're humble, and… just so sweet." His voice breaks a little over the last part, causing me to look up to him.

"I think of you all the time," he confesses.

"I think of you, too," I whisper, but then the hurt and anger bubble up again. "Then why did you behave like that last night?"

Edward is silent for a while. He takes my hand into both of his and it feels so good that my insides turn into hot chocolate… or something.

"I panicked," he says, staring down at our hands.

"Panicked?" I don't understand.

"I had a girlfriend, back in Chicago. Her sister Leah was in my dance class, that's how we met. I was very much in love with her. We were together for two years. And then she left me."

He's silent again, and I can see that he's trying to tell this correctly.

My thumb strokes the back of his hand.

"Emily – my girlfriend – had fallen in love with this guy, Sam. 'It was meant to be' and blah, blah, blah, so she left me. That was a month before Mom was diagnosed. She died eight weeks later."

"Oh my God… Edward…"

I reach out my hand and pass it through his hair, along his temple, over his clean-shaven cheek. Edward leans into my touch, closing his eyes as if he's enjoying it. We're silent for a long time, his hands holding one of mine, while the other caresses his hair.

"I thought about it all night," he says, startling me out of my thoughts. "I didn't sleep. At all. I was too scared you'd hate me. I tried to analyze what happened, what's going on with me, you know. I think it's just that… every time I love someone, they leave me…"

He looks up for a second, his green eyes warm and intense. He has maturity beyond his years, and I guess it can be partly explained by the things that have happened to him.

"No," I whisper, my hand stilling, cupping his cheek.

"No?"

"I wouldn't leave you, Edward…"

Edward turns his face so he can kiss the palm of my hand.

"Bella… I'm just… so glad that we met…"

"So am I."

With that, Edward pulls me close and kisses me, and it's every bit as wonderful as it was last night. Only more so.

I relax into the warmth of his arms while his lips play with mine, and a small sigh escapes my throat.

Edward's mouth moves against mine, his lips and tongue doing all sorts of exciting things, and I think I sigh again, because his arms are pulling me closer, and the feel, the taste and smell of him are driving me crazy. My whole being throbs toward him.

"Bella," he whispers. "Do you… Do you want to…"

He swallows, and puts another kiss on my lips.

"Do you want to be… my girlfriend?"

Our hearts beat in unison, and our breaths share the same rhythm.

I'm overwhelmed, so I think I just make an "ummm" sound against Edward's lips.

We sit on those steps for a long time. Kissing. Talking.

Drowning in each other for I don't know how long.

"Bella," he whispers against my lips.

"Mmm?" I nuzzle his nose with mine, and I can feel him smile.

"I think we should get back inside…"

We creep into the darkened auditorium, making it just in time to watch the grand finale of Rosalie and Mike's pas de deux. She dramatically drops down by his feet, and he falls to his knees and bites her neck.

The applause that follows is polite, and I can tell that Angela, who is sitting in front of us with Ben, is suppressing a giggle. I feel bad for having missed her performance, but I know she'll forgive me once I tell her the reason.

There's a bit of shuffling as Mr. Whitlock gets up and makes his way to the stage.

Edward's hand finds mine in the dark, causing my heart and stomach to flutter.

His breath is warm on my skin as he leans in to me.

"Bella?"

"Yes?" I whisper back.

Mr. Whitlock is talking about how great and different we all were, praising the mass of ideas and inspiration.

"Still," he goes on, "we needed to decide on one couple to perform the pas de deux from my new ballet, and we've unanimously chosen..."

Edward kisses my neck just below my ear, making me shudder.

"… Isabella Cigno and Edward Masen!"

There's applause, and I know I have a huge grin on my face, but it's not because of what Mr. Whitlock said.

It's Edward's voice, low and tender.

"I want to dance with you forever, Bella."

oOoOoOo

A/N: Thank you for reading, and please leave a review if you liked Balletward and Bellarina. Each and every one means so much to me!

Thank you, dellaterra. You made this story a new, and wonderful, experience for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you - and I hope I'll get to say those words many more times…

xoxo

hp