Annabeth was deathly nervous. Maria was just as nervous and Jena was close to trembling but the longer they moved the more they calmed down. Soon about a minute later their arms moved as freely as water, their steps as steady as a tree, and they leaped on the floor as smoothly as a stone beaten by the force of water for years. Annabeth was getting lost in the moment.
Her tightly shut eyes slowly opened in beat with her sisters and they glowed with reform and power. She felt at peace. At peace with her sisters, as peace with the room, at peace with her dance. At peace with the music.
Not a muscle moved in the audience, their eyes solely glued on the sisters as they twirled, leaped, and shook their waist from side to side. The whole room was entranced. So deep into their dance, the song, and their beauty. It was disorienting and paralyzing. It was beautiful.
