Work Text:
For as long as W.D Wheeler could remember - even before he understood why people gave him nasty looks on the street - he had been quiet. He wasn’t unsociable, but rather, reserved. As he grew, that particular trait transformed into a kind of caution. He accepted the undeclared hatred directed at him solely because of the colour of his skin, and became guarded against it. Anne was different - she was careful, yes, of the small-minded bigots who condemned them for something that they couldn’t control, but she was wild. She was always more willing to take risks than he was - she, even, was the one who convinced him to join the circus.
She was a madcap child - where he had climbed the biggest trees he could find, high as he dared, she climbed higher. She was his joy - though she sometimes scared him half to death, he would do anything for her. He could hardly remember a time when he didn’t look after her - they were both grown now, but he still felt the need to.
Where she was uninhibited, he was wary. He put on an unapproachable demeanour to prevent people from hurting him or his sister - he wasn’t rude, per se, but he found it difficult to trust people.
In the air, though, he was free from his worries. It was him and Anne, and nothing else - it was almost like flying.
They took off across the ring as one; she let go of her bar and her hands found his as she fell. They swung backwards, and she found her footing on the platform he had jumped off of, before pushing him in the opposite direction once more. He landed on the opposite catwalk.
The lights went out momentarily, as he’d expected they would - this was the crowning jewel of their routine. When they came back on, Anne was tethered to the roof, upside down - her legs were wrapped around the rope and her arms were free, held out to the crowd like an offering. She performed a series of complex manoeuvers, shifting until she was suspended horizontally with the rope tied around her waist several times. Then, she started spinning. She tumbled toward the ground an astounding rate, before stopping just short of making contact with it; the audience went wild.
She stood, and the rope pulled taut as she did. She ran all the way to the edge of the ring, and then kicked off towards where W.D still stood on the scaffold. Her feet lifted off of the ground. After securing the rope around himself, he jumped off - they just barely missed each other, swinging around and around as the ropes inched ever higher. When they were wound as tight as they could go, Anne and W.D were nose to nose. They stayed in that position for just a moment before releasing each other.
They were soaring. The cords supporting them unraveled, swinging them around one another ever-faster. Their speed peaked, and then, as they approached the floor, decreased. They were circling each other slowly, maybe, five feet off the ground. To conclude the act, they descended to the ground in unison through a series of flips and contortions - disentangling themselves from the ropes. Anne caught his hand as their feet touched the ground - the cables disappeared into the wings, and he smiled.
They stood together in the face of the cheering crowd. His wariness of the world at large still haunted the back of his mind, but right here, with Anne - he was happy.