Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

Using my shoulder to keep herself steady, she slipped off
her flats and hopped up on the rim of the fountain and then let
me go, having some fun doing ballet moves and balancing
herself.
Her phone rang, though, and she stopped, pulling it out and
turning it off without answering it.
“Parents calling?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
She must’ve had a particular ringtone to identify them.
Watching her move, twirl, bend, and dip, I followed her
around the fountain as she pointed her toes and flexed the
muscles in her legs.
What would happen when she grew up? Who would have
her? Where would she move? How would this all change?
And all I knew in that moment was that I would fight for
nothing more than to keep her like this. Innocent and happy
and pure.
Dancing in fountains.
Wobbling, she suddenly reached out for me, and I stepped
up to her, catching her before she fell.
She laughed, putting her hands on my shoulders.
“Training hard?” I asked, lifting up her foot to look at the
bruises and redness from her toenails cutting into her skin.
“Always,” she replied.
These were a dancer’s feet.
“Does it hurt?”
She shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
Then she wrapped her arms around me and jumped into
my hold, forcing me to circle her waist to catch her. She
smiled at me, and I held her like that, refusing to put her down
as we just stayed there.
But then, tightening her hold, she slowly brought herself in
and hugged me.