out of control [stevexelle]

[Steve S. Fisher]

Swimming before meeting Elle - not a good idea.

There was no other way to put it. He looked horrible. Well, at least compared to his usual standards. Compared to some of the others around here, he was in formal attire. The brunette flushed slightly as he looked over himself in the mirror. His fluffy hair was worse than normal. His panicked and hurried attempts to flatten it weren't working. But at least his eyes didn't have the dark circles under them that they'd had the day before.

And his clothes.

Steve wrinkled his nose in distaste. They were clinging to him in the most uncomfortable of ways. Normally, he'd be careful to rinse off completely, but there was no time for that with Gabrielle. A small smile cracked on the student's face. He could hear his phone buzzing in the locker behind him - and he wasn't even late yet. He still had fifteen minutes to be on time. His parents had drilled into him a sense of punctuality that he hadn't quite been able to leave behind after he ditched the whole lawyer career to become what he'd really wanted.

Supposedly.

His parents still weren't exactly thrilled about the decision, and it'd been about half a semester. Half a semester, and he'd already made one of the closest friends he'd ever had. Isn't that sad? You patheti- Before that sarcastic thought could trickle any further into his consciousness, Steve quickly brushed it away and suddenly moved into action. Gabrielle would kill him if he wasn't there five minutes early. As he stumbled and bumbled his way through the locker rooms, the art student ruffled through his bag to make certain that his sketchbook was still there. Seeing that it was, along with his special set of pencils, the young man heaved a sigh of relief and made his way toward the dance studio. He was always glad that the pool was so close.

After a short five minute walk, Steven Fisher pulled up outside the studio. His brown eyes grew unfocused for a moment as he hesitated. But then his phone buzzed again - once again, probably Gabrielle. He hadn't actually checked it in ages, but who else called him but his parents and Gabrielle. As he flashed his ID at the person guarding the entrance with one hand, the other hand fumbled through his shorts to grab his cheap Nokia phone. They were indestructible, thank heavens, because Steve had horrible clumsy fingers.

Walking quickly, Steve expertly navigated the corridors until he reached the correct room and knocked before opening the door. There was Gabrielle, like she'd said. Or he said. He couldn't exactly remember. The college student would've stared at the blonde for a moment longer if it weren't for the fact that friends don't stare. Steven's face flushed slightly as he glanced at the ground, his hands folded shyly behind his back. "Hey, Gabrielle," he remarked, removing one his hands for a short wave before returning them to their prior position.

[gabrielle]

Gabrielle lifted her right leg in front of her, in a high arabesque. She leaned forward and wrapped her right palm around her calf, pulling her body forward until she was parallel with her leg. She felt her legs start to shake and new that she was properly stretched. Looking at herself in the mirror she smiled. She didn't look half bad today. Glancing around her she realized that she had the studio to herself, all the other dancers had left already. She shrugged her shoulders and wiped her hand across her forehead. She was already sweaty and she hadn't even started the hard part!

Elle walked over and sat on the ground and laced up her pointe shoes, sighing when she saw how badly she needed new ones. But, new ones would run at about seventy bucks a pop and she just did not have that kind of money laying around. She carefully stood up and tested her weight on both feet. Her ankle was doing better after Anthony had put ice on it and suggested that she come back to the office for therapy. But as of the moment she didn't have time to spare. Any free time she had was spent getting ready for her audition.

Elle shook these thoughts form her mind and started out with some across the floor work, practicing her turns and leaps. She was so focused that she didn't hear Steve slip in the room. Elle stopped mid-turn when she heard him speak. She huffed and shot him a death glare. She was able to hold the glare for all of one second before he turned red and stared at the ground in embarrassment. Silly boy! Elle walked over to him and lifted his chin with her hand, leaning in to place a kiss on each of his cheeks. She loved him so much. He was her best friend, and lord knew those were hard for her to come by these days.

"Hey sweet-cheeks. You ready?" she asked casually. Gabrielle was proud of Steve. He had come a long way the past semester. He was the best artist she knew. Hands down. She had been there for him when he had spilled his story of his parents and their desire for him to become a lawyer. She could never imagine it. Him? A lawyer? Not in a million years. He was too soft spoken. He could hardly stand to kill a fly. Somewhere over the course of the last two months, Elle had let her walls slowly come down. Especially when she realized that he was no threat to her. He was harmless. Completely.

Gabrielle grabbed his hand and pulled him to a chair that was sitting in the front of the room, she pushed him down and rolled her eyes, he was so quiet! She couldn't lie though, she was super excited. He was going to freaking draw her. How cool was that? It didn't help anything that this would totally go to her head.

"So...what do you want me to do?" she asked, with a tone that she only used with him. He was the only one that wasn't subjected to her icy tone and rude remarks. She walked to the center of the floor and stood, placing her hands on her hips. Cocking her head to the side and biting her lip, she knew she looked sexy and alluring. And she was not afraid to show it. She disregarded the fact that she was wearing tights and a solid black leotard. But, that was who she was. Like it or leave it. For some reason, she was not shy in front of Steve. He liked her for her, or at least he tolerated her. And her many moods. And trust me, she had many.

[Steve S. Fisher]

There were times when Gabrielle was absolutely shameless. This was one of those times. The blonde was bubbly and probably a little more energetic than most. She'd give him a kiss, for heaven's sake! His heart fluttered slightly. Could she hear it? Sure, it was on the cheek, but it was a kiss. Not that Steven did anything to react to it, except feel his cheeks flush brighter. He had always been horrible at hiding his embarrassment, which was tragic because he was constantly embarrassed. It was hard not to be when you dressed like you were fifty (according to one of the ruder kids in his class). His parents, though, were never embarrassed. They just stared at the reporters, completely unabashed, and gave them this cool, eyebrow-raised look that seemed to ooze, 'You think I made the mistake? Look who took journalism.' His parents hated journalists.

They told him that he should to, but it never had rubbed off on him. But then again, most of their habits hadn't. Whereas his parents mercilessly killed any bug in sight (sometimes barely even looking at it), Steven had never been able to stay in a room with bugs. He couldn't kill them, either. It wasn't fair that he got to shorten their already terribly short life. He still was oddly afraid of them - all of them. While his parents could stare down the scariest criminal and make them trust them using pure intimidation, Steven could barely meet a kid's gaze. His parents terrified him sometimes, though his father was way worse than his mother. But it wasn't like he was in a hateful relationship with them. That'd be a bit too much to bear. He might even go back to being a lawyer if it meant that they wouldn't hate him forever. He barely survived through their disappointment.

Hatred... Hatred would be horrible.

Stifling a shiver, Steve smiled at his friend. Someone was in a far better mood than he was. Not that he minded. Gabrielle needed some more cheer in her life. She could be moodier than London's weather (his mother worked there for awhile). She'd been absolutely terrifying when they first met. Steven wasn't sure how he survived their first meeting. He'd pretty much crumbled underneath her sharp gaze and icy words. Maybe she'd felt sorry for him? As pathetic as that was, Steven was almost fine with it. He had no ego that prevented him from taking offense from that. He was a weakling and pretty pity-inspiring. But, hey? It helped get one of his best friends ever. Because she wasn't anything more than a friend. The flutter he'd felt when she kissed him wasn't a crush. It was embarrassment.

[/i]

Steve's eyes watched Gabrielle float around him. It was amazing how light her steps were. They barely made a sound while Steven seemed to clip-clop around like a horse or an ox. That might've been alright if he actually looked like one. Still blushing as he was dragged into a chair. "Me, Mi'm fine. Yup, ready."[/color] Steve's already quietly mumbled words were made even more so as he ducked his head into his case to grab out his sketch pad and his favorite pencil. There really was nothing special about the pencil - he'd actually stolen it from one of his lawyer tests - except for the fact that it'd been the first pencil he'd ever drawn with. Drawn decently, that is.

Flipping to a new page, Steve shifted uneasily in his chair. Only to see his friend striking one the most picturesque poses ever. His eyes widened slightly. It was... rather seductively done, though. Almost too seductive. The brown-headed artist blushed furiously, glancing down at his paper before his friend would notice it. Scribbling a few notes at the corner of the page, he looked up thoughtfully at the dancer. "Whichever position feels most natural. You don't have to pose for more than a few moments. Jump around if you like."[/color] Inwardly, Steven smiled. He always sounded the bossiest when he was doing his drawings. Otherwise, he was a lily-livered coward.

He glanced up cheerily at Gabrielle. "Too vague?"[/color] he asked, as he twirled his pencil around his finger in that distracted way of his. His brown eyes flickered toward the blonde's, but he quickly broke off the gaze. Instead, Steve bowed his head and absently scratched the back of his neck with his spare hand. He hated silence almost as much as he hated the pressure that'd been thrown on top of him. Shifting awkwardly, the artist tilted his head hopefully.

"How's your day been?"[/color] Steve's soft voice was lower and quieter than the one just moments ago. More uncertain. More slurred together.
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[gabrielle]

Gabrielle smiled, surprising herself in the process. There was just something about Steven that elicited these kinds of emotions from her. He made her happy, and whole, in a big brother kind of way. He reminded her of her little brother back home. In a lot of ways. But she had never told him that. She hadn't even told him about her brother being deaf. Even though they were really close she wasn't quite ready to share that with him yet. There relationship was a tad confusing. Elle knew she sent mixed messages at times. Hell, she had just kissed him twice. Even if it were on the cheeks, he still blushed. Sometimes she wondered if he was gay. Honestly, he always acted so shy around her. Especially like now.

Elle couldn't help but grow frustrated at him. She was standing, with her hands on her hips, looking very sexy. And all he did was glance up at her and order her to jump around. Jump around, really? What did he think she did exactly? She was a dancer, and she certainly never jumped. Elle flicked him off, even though he wasn't watching her. Sometimes, she could wring the neck of that boy.

She knew what she was doing wasn't a good idea, but she didn't care. Elle put on the most pouty face she could muster and walked over to where he was sitting. She glanced at his sketchbook and gingerly sat down on his knees. She tilted her head to the side and pulled the pony tail out form around her bun, allowing her hair to fall down around her shoulders. She shook her hair out and fluffed it up with her hands. It was still damp and smelled like her shampoo, Japanese cherry blossom from bath and body works. It had been her go too scent for the past five years. She leaned forward, allowing the dip in her leotard to open just enough so her cleavage was in seeing distance. Sometimes, she enjoyed torturing him. This just happened to be one of those times.

"Steve....which side of my face is better?"

[/color] she drawled sexily, turning her head from side to side. Biting her lip just so. She wiped a smirk off he face. She really shouldn't enjoy torturing him this much, but she did. He deserved it though, he referred to her dancing, her version of art, as freaking jumping around. She cocked her head to the side and batted her eyelashes at him. She wondered just how he was going to react. Maybe he'd kiss her? Nah, she really didn't think he would ever do that. He was too shy. Didn't mean she wouldn't though. Just not today. He was probably having a panic attack internally.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Steve S. Fisher]

Steve nibbled on the end of his pencil, perfectly oblivious to the bird that had flown off of Gabrielle's hand. Already his mind was calculating the scale he'd have to draw to be able to fit in one of her leaps. He'd brought his wider notebook just for this purpose - as well as the fancy art pencils that had really really thin lines. He tilted his head, his dark brown eyes narrowing at the artwork in front of him. At least Gabrielle was short. It made her easier to fit several times into the page. And if he used the right scale, he could sketch a few extra drawings on the edges. He didn't need to tell her about those, though. Righting his head, Steven began sketching lightly in one of the corners, remembering the very.... inappropriate pose she'd struck only moments ago. He absently glanced up at his friend to see if she was still holding the same pose.

Only to find she was already on a completely different topic.

He barely had time to yank his sketchbook and pencil out of the way before Gabrielle sat down. Steven let out a quiet yelp of surprise as curly blonde hair was pressed into his face. He breathed the lightly fragrant scent of her damp hair before he realized how awkward it was. If Steven's face could grow any redder, it would have. But she wasn't done yet. No. Of course she wasn't. Gabrielle was probably enjoying every second of this. She knew how shy he was. She knew he hated to get all touched and sat on and kissed. Well, by anyone but her. When she did it, it was just embarrassment that she might find out he had a bit of a thing for her.

Not a crush.

How could he have a crush on his best friend?

But why had she sat on him in the first place?

Was she mad at him or something? Or was this fun? Or did she just want to give him a freaking heart attack? Or worse yet, did she know he had something for her. Because there was no way Gabrielle did this to just anyone. If she did, he wanted to.... tell them not to let her do it to them anymore. Because, really, Steven hoped she only did it to him. It was a symbol of their close... friendship. But as symbolic as it was, it didn't stop him from getting tomato red. Or even redder than a tomato. He didn't know. All he knew was that his face was burning and his heart was racing.

He was going to have some sort of asthma or heart attack or something.

And then she leaned over. Oh, this is so on purpose. Steve nervously started scratching his head through his hair - only messing his damp hair worse. He winced slightly as the pencil point dug into his scalp, but he'd rather scratch himself there than embarrass himself some other way. It didn't help that Gabrielle was now asking him the stupidest question in the most seductive purrs she could. Steve opened and closed his mouth, speechless for a few moments. Gabrielle's position didn't exactly have the propriety he was used to. As a gentleman, he should carefully have her go sit next to him or continue drawing her. But really, he didn't want to her move.

"B-b-b-b-oth sides of your face look fffffine."

[/color] Steven stammered, blushing deeply. Shifting awkwardly beneath Gabrielle, Steve glanced at the notebook he was holding awkwardly and glanced at Gabrielle. "You know, it'd be easier to draw you if you w-w-weren't sitting on me."[/color] His blush, which had started to fade away, had begun to flare up again, making his very un-tanned skin flush a bright pink from head-to-toe.

The batting of the eyelashes was too much. Letting out another squeaky yelp, Steve had to struggle not to jump up. "Y-you prolly s-should g-get off me n-n-n-now."[/color] It was all he could do to not push off his lap. But it almost completely determined that Gabrielle was making fun of him.

That hurt a little, but Steve could deal with it.

It wasn't like he hadn't lived a life of rejection.
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[gabrielle]

Gabrielle was unable to tear her gaze away from Steve's face. Her green eyes stared into his as his face turned two shades darker than a tomato. Good lord! Sometimes this boy acted like he hadn't even kissed a girl. But, then again, she had never asked so it was very possible that he hadn't. She somehow couldn't imagine her Steve getting it on with anyone. He was too shy and quiet. But, you never know. It wasn't like by looking at her you'd think she was a bitch. Just when she opened her mouth to speak. Or the occasional hand gesture. Nevertheless, Steve was adorable and too shy for his own good.

She stretched out her legs and hopped up, giving Steve the space he desperately wanted. She just couldn't read this guy. He acted like she was repulsing at times. Maybe he was just shy. Or maybe he was gay. Whatever, she wouldn't judge or pressure him into anything. He accepted her the way she was without any complaints or comments. And she decided then and there that she would do the same. But damn, if she found out at the end of it all that he wasn't gay. Well, he had some serious explaining to do. Elle was definitely not

[/b] use to rejection. Or anything remotely close to it. You didn't burn Elle, she burnt you. Always.

She rolled her eyes as he stammered out a few sentences, blushing an even deeper shade of red. He definitely never played the firetruck game as a kid. Well, not everybody whored around she supposed. She didn't think of herself as a whore, she just liked getting what she wanted. Whenever she wanted it. Which sometimes gave off the wrong vibe, or slightly incriminated her. With a shrug she lifted her hands above her hand and did a pirouette, giggling to herself. Steve needed to lighten up a bit, and maybe by seeing her carefree and happy, which was a rarity for her, he would feel the same. She came out her spin and landed in fifth position, her hands falling gently to her sides.

"I'm sorry sweet-cheeks, you're just too tempting. I could just lic-..."[/b]she paused and stopped herself from continuing her sentence. He probably wasn't ready for certain references yet. Her hair fluffed out around her shoulders and she shook her hair, knowing that in the process she was making herself look like she had stuck her hand in an electrical socket.

"Steve?" she questioned. He was zoned out. Damn, what had she done to this boy? "Well, i could try drawing myself but that wouldn't work out very well so maybe you should put your pencil on the paper and actually do something instead of sit there gawking like a fourteen year old boy?" She quipped, her tone light and playful. Not too long ago they had been that age..she thought to herself. She shuddered and reminded herself not to go back down memory lane and revisit those memories. She was not at her prime then definitely.

She sat on the floor and sat down gracefully, her legs spreading to a split while she stretched. "Steve, why do you like me?"[/b] she questioned thoughtfully. "I mean..i'm kind of a bitch and it's not like i do much for you?"[/b] she was met with silence and she looked up and found him engrossed in his drawing. Well, so much for getting an answer. In all honesty she didn't know if she was ready to hear his response or not.[/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[Steve S. Fisher]

Steven felt like falling off the chair with relief as soon as Gabrielle hopped off his lap. He had to steady himself against the chair for a moment. Why'd his best friend leave him so light-headed? It really didn't make sense. But he supposed most best friends made their best friends light-headed. He'd never actually had a best friend like Gabrielle, so he wasn't sure. He'd had friends. He'd even had friends he'd called best friends. They just hadn't stuck with him after the move and Steve hadn't made the effort to call them. All of his friends would be successful lawyers and doctors and some of them rich and popular, which really was great. But he'd left that life behind and he didn't need any reminders.

They'd all made fun of his move to North Carolina and art.

He watched Gabrielle dance around doing moves he had no idea what to call them. She was amazing when she danced. She probably knew that. She had that much of an effect on him. He was amazingly obvious, wasn't he? He sighed and glared down at the sketchpad in front of him. The problem with Gabrielle, though, was there was so much energy in her. It was nearly impossible to draw her perfectly unless he blurred her edges a little. But by blurring her edges, he removed some of the jaded snark that she carried around as easily as she flirted. With him, at least. He never really saw Gabrielle hang out with too many other people. It was odd. She deserved to have a way better friend than him. Someone who could and would flirt with her and kiss her on the cheek and be smooth and unflustered.

Steven just wasn't that sort of person. He looked down at his sketchpad for a moment before glancing up to see Gabrielle finish her spin. The man immediately set that picture in his mind. His pencil hit paper and he was lost in the light scratching sounds that his number two pencil made on the page. Gabrielle was one of the few people he could draw after watching them for only a few seconds. He could draw her from memory, too, but her hair was never quite as natural on paper as it was on her. He loved her hair. The way it curled and tangled and was just as wild and beautiful as the rest of her. His friend. Calling a friend beautiful is perfectly normal. A lovely blonde that - Steven looked up again and frowned as she swooshed her hair around. She looked rather mad. He flashed a small smile at her.

And then his eyes widened.

"I-I-I wasn't gawking."

[/color] He paled visibly at Gabrielle's comment. She had to know, didn't she. He watched her curiously, studying her almost subconscious actions. Yes, he could definitely draw her from memory. That small, smirking smile she had. The pleased look she got when she completely flustered him. He just... Didn't want to tell her that. Nor did he want to tell her that if she actually flicked through his art portfolio or even this sketchbook, she'd see he that he obviously had something for her. Because she was everywhere. It was easier just to draw her and keep her on paper than letting her take over his mind. "Just making sure I got your hair right."[/color]

He hummed absently as he returned to his sketching. She'd said his name right? Oh, and she needed to have that smirk on her face. He tilted his head to the side - his hair just starting to fluff up as it dried. His hair was awful - messy, dull, and unorderly. Gabrielle's was poetic. He absently moved from the general shape of her body to her face. His small, delicate hands gripped the pencil tightly as he frowned at the shape of her face. He quickly grabbed his rubber eraser - his parents had sent him an amazing set to show they'd forgiven him - to erase her face. He quickly fixed it. Before, it'd been too sharp and narrow. Now it was almost too soft - but that was Gabrielle. She had the sort of face that could change from hostile and cheerful and look completely different. She always looked a lot softer around him. He'd seen her around Miala's halls and she always looked so jaded. He'd drawn a picture of that Gabrielle in the notebook as well - books and everything.

Had she been talking to him?

He glanced up, frowning from the distraction. Hadn't she just told him to draw? Not seeing her, he glanced at the ground beside him and grinned. He easily stood up and gestured toward the chair. "I can draw standing. And I like you because you're so frighteningly honest with everyone - including me I hope. And, and, wow. That sounded... co-confident? Besides, you're absolutely amazing to draw. All your actions and reactions and how you--"[/color] The blush he'd lost returned. She didn't want to hear him basically tell her how amazing she was. She clearly already knew.

He absently tapped her head before returning to his drawing. He'd caught her halfway through the motion of finishing her spin. She was balancing on her toes and her arms were slowly falling down. Her hair had turned out right for once, moving along with her - but fighting the whole time. He was quite pleased with how it was turning out so far. He had the whole general outline done. And her face. Because, like her hair, Steven loved her face. It was so simple, but all of Gabrielle was in it.

Quite honestly, he just loved drawing her. Period.
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