"Where is your tie?" Madison bites out angrily, her brows furrowing together.

Nick scowls at her. "It's a noose."

"You couldn't put it on, could you?" Nick doesn't answer so Madison simply rolls her eyes and mutters, "Can't even put on a tie. Pathetic."

"Alright," the dancing teacher calls out to them, clapping his hands together, his accent tilted with a soft French edge. He sets down a bottle of wine, to which both Madison and Nick raise their eyebrows at. "Let's all be civil here, now, alright? My name is Bastien Beaufort. I am here as a favour to Elizabeth –,"

"Oh, joy," Madison hears Nick mutter.

She turns her head to scowl darkly at him before summoning her best smile as she lifts her head towards Bastien. "Mr Beaufort, I am honoured to have you teach me. I will do my best," Madison says sweetly.

"Call me Bastien, my dear." Bastien smiles on her brightly. "Oh, but you have the form of a ballerina!" he says excitedly, as Madison dims very slightly. "Do you dance?"

"Yes, when I was younger," Madison says quickly.

Bastien is ecstatic. "It will be so much easier for you to pick up the steps, then!" he says, as Nick pretends to gag. "You will have the form down, Madison." When he turns to Nick, he furrows his brows a little. "I see why Elizabeth wanted you. Your form is rather... big. You would look perfect next to Madison, though I do wonder at how you will hope to move with grace. No matter. Dancing is an art form, children, and anyone can do it, if they try hard enough!"

It doesn't take long for Bastien to eat his words. Or rather, drink them through.

First, he instructs them to move separately of each other so that he can size up their abilities. But every time Nick stumbles clumsily or Madison misses a step, his fingers wrap around the bottle of wine and his smile turns a note more desperate. But Madison is feeling less angry than she thought she would be. There's a strange sense of ease within Nick's company because Madison truly doesn't care what he thinks of her. It's actually freeing, in a weird way.

"Alright, I've seen your abilities – or lack of. It's time for the two of you to dance together. I want Nick to move first. I need to see if you can lift Madison," Bastien instructs. "Put your hands around her waist, Nicholas. Come on. Don't be shy now."

Both Nick and Madison are staring at him as though he's speaking French. Bastien fumbles for the bottle of half-empty wine, looking a little despairing.

Nick blinks. "I have to what?"

"He'll drop me," Madison says, at the same time.

She's thinking fast; if she could find a way to lift herself, she would. Nick is reaching for her, looking awkward and uncomfortable, and Madison swallows before Nick turns clumsily. He lands on her foot before she can move in time and Madison lets out a gasp of pain. She hisses at a guilt-faced Nick in annoyance as she reaches for her foot.

"For God's sake, Nick," Madison bites out. "This is the third time."

She's going to get bruises, at this point, and then it'll be bye bye open toed heels.

Bastien claps his hands. "Alright, let's just walk it off," he says, wiping his forehead. "Madison, are you alright?" When Madison jerks her head towards him angrily, Bastien continues, smoothly. "Perhaps a lift was too much to ask for, especially on the first day. How about you take her hand, Nicholas?"

"Like this?"

"No."

Madison holds her breath, wetting her lips, as Nick looks at her, with something like shock within his eyes. This is stupid, she thinks. Of course, they were going to have to hold hands. But why is she so pent-up about it? As Nick moves forward to take her hand, something like sparks and heat crashes within her. Madison hates how nervous she is, how her heart is pounding so hard she fears it will burst out of her chest altogether.

Nick is looking down at her, swallowing thickly, and his eyes are like stormy black skies. She tilts her head back up a bit, to meet his gaze. Her mother was right about the height difference after all, Madison thinks dazedly. Tentative all the while, Nick places a hand at the small of her back and Madison can feel his massive hand burning through the soft silk of her pale blue shirt.

It's when Nick lets out a ragged breath, his gaze uncertain, that Madison realises she's not the only nervous one here.

When Nick spins her out onto the ballroom floor, Bastien is so ecstatic he starts to clap for them enthusiastically. It strikes Madison that Nick hasn't been his usual talkative self this session and she sees the way he absently murmurs the counts under his breath, feeling like she is flying within his arms. There's something comforting about being in Nick's arms, Madison thinks, that really and truly scares her.

And then Nick stumbles.

Both of them stare up at each other, their lips parting in the same moment, before the split second where they crash against each other. Madison is falling against Nick's larger frame and Nick's fingers are moving up against her waist to steady her, in vain, as they both fall together onto the ballroom floor painfully.

Bastien's face is a picture as he attempts to help the two up, his eyes growing wide with panic. "Okay, okay, now we all know that mistakes can be made –,"

"For God's sake, Nick!" Madison says angrily, wincing as she rubs at her arms. "Why can't you just do it right?"

Nick is growing annoyed, too, his brows furrowing together. "We can't all have had training at the ballet, like you!" he bites back, his eyes blazing. "You have to have some patience!"

"I have had patience with you," Madison retorts, huffing as she lifts herself to her feet. "Would it kill you to stop stepping on my feet, at least once?" She reaches for him and tries to bodily push him to his spot. "You have to stand here and you move like this! What part of that is so hard to get through your thick head?"

But Nick refuses to move, glaring down at Madison. "Why are you such a control freak?" he snarls at her angrily. "Why do you feel you have to control everything?"

"Because you're an utter idiot!" Madison tells him, as the air between them crackles. She can hear Bastien protesting at them and attempting to quiet them but she barely casts him a glance, glowering fiercely up at Nick. "Why are you so stuck in your own ways? Why can't you just listen to someone, other than yourself, for once?"

"Ha!" Nick barks out dryly. "You're one to talk, you control freak."

Bastien is wincing beside them, his fingers wrapped around his bottle. "Children, now, please. Let's just channel all of that raw passion into the dance? All of that unspoken attraction, that chemistry, those sparks – it's beautiful, it really is but I need you to –,"

Nick turns his head. "Would you shut up for once?" He turns back to Madison, his lips pursed. "In case you didn't realise, I am trying –,"

"Well, it's not good enough!" Madison says, her voice fraught with so much emotion that it stops Nick's next remark.

He stares at her as Madison avoids his gaze hotly, realising that she's spilling too much. This time, they're not drunk.

When Nick speaks again, his voice is a soft barrage of heat. "You think I don't want to make my mum proud, as well?" he tells her, staring at her. "She's depending on me, to do this with you. She's the only reason I'm here. I wouldn't show up just to see your pretty face, trust me."

The barbed remark flies completely over her head.

"You're not the only one trying to make someone proud," Madison bites back and she's breathing hard, her voice almost desperate. "I threw the annual Sutton party barely a week ago and my mother said the colour scheme was off. I have to do this for her!"

Nick is staring at her, his eyes wide. The air between them crackles and Madison realises that they are so close to each other and she swears Nick's gaze drops to her lips before he looks away quickly. They're so close that if she leans forward a bit, they'll be touching again, Madison realises, her heart pounding. She's feverish, for some reason, staring at Nick.

There's a desperation writhing on his features, desperation that she knows, that she understands, that she feels, too.

Swallowing thickly, Madison steps away quickly from Nick, at the same time as him. He is flushing hotly as they look away from each other, embarrassed. When Madison turns her gaze, she realises Bastien has given up and is drinking the bottle steadily away on the balcony, looking frantic and speaking in rapid French to someone on the phone.

She lets out a breath.

"I know what you think," Madison says, and her voice is defensive. "You're thinking it now. You're thinking, privileged, little white girl, with more money than she knows what to do with. Moaning and complaining about her lot in life."

Nick doesn't even hesitate. "Actually," he says and there's something vulnerable about him as he speaks. "I was thinking the same."

Madison blinks. "What?"

"Just because you're luckier than other people, doesn't mean you're not allowed to feel, too," Nick says. He looks at her. "This place is a cage, a noose around the neck. I don't blame you for dreaming of getting out."

She's startled and when she speaks, her breaths are fraught. "I didn't say anything about wanting to get out."

Nick only says, "You didn't have to. It's written all over your face."

Nobody has ever been able to figure her out.

Nobody has ever cared enough to.

Madison eyes him carefully, not sure what she feels. "You, too," she realises. "You want to get out, too. You don't want to fly, though. You want to find home." She is thinking out her words so when Nick looks startled, Madison realises that she's got it right. "That's why you have the motorbike. It's not because it looks cool. It's because it's the closest thing you have to ground yourself, the closest thing that you have to what it means to have a home."

Nick stares at her and Madison stares back at him.

They can't even blame it on the alcohol this time.

There is a beat of a moment before Madison lets out a breath, her gaze dropping to his lips. She swallows thickly before she tears her gaze away, turning her head to Bastien. He is still in the balcony, ranting in French. Madison turns her head back to Nick and she reaches her hand out towards him. Nick closes his big hand over hers.

"Step this way," she tells him, and there's a softness within her voice as she continues.

*