Songs I thought of when I wrote this chapter years ago: "Pressure" by The 1975 (where the story title comes from), "Dance With Me" by Marvin Gaye, "Not A Bad Thing" by Justin Timberlake, and "Tell Me" by Groove Theory.

Hope you like.

When a dancer is fulfilled, after a night of hard work and passion is over, nothing else matters. Her heart is satisfied, with goals accomplished and emotions full. Sweat and tears being a physical sign of all the dedicated time she had put forth.

Those moments were a collection of the life Olivia constantly dreamed of; she wouldn't change that for anything. But that only happened when she committed herself, body and soul, to dance.

Parallels showed themselves in her current situation. The struggles she endured dissipated when she allowed herself to let go of the hurt and feel something new with Fitz. His presence brought a transformation into her life she did not expect. A change that proved to be necessary.

And in that moment, Olivia knew she was happy.

Thin streams of light hit her face, breaking her restful sleep. Instead of scrambling out of bed in fear, she exhaled; the moment felt right. Olivia turned on her side, watching Fitz for a little bit, who was still deep in slumber. Bedhead galore, he snored softly into the pillow. His back, well-defined, subtly marked with small brown dots, slowly rose and fell in sync with his breathing. Somehow, she thought he was in discomfort. After thinking about the last time they spent the night together, Olivia assumed being on his stomach was his favorite sleeping position. Kinda cute.

They were so close, she was able to pay attention to the details on his face. It was so tempting to move her finger along to just touch him. Mentally returning to that fateful morning when she found herself in the same position; she was too eager to leave, get to her next destination.

Now, Olivia didn't move at all.

It took her weeks, seven to be exact, to realize that being with someone could be a good thing. Especially Fitz. She began to see herself with him — around town, observing rehearsals, at her place, traveling anywhere — beyond his departure back to Los Angeles. Not embarrassed to be associated with this guy. She knew had been such an asshole for pushing him away. There was a chance she could have lost him for good.

"Good morning," she gently called. There was such a sweet feeling, lying next to him. She couldn't describe it, but she knew something was changing when she peppered his shoulder blade with quick kisses. Fitz's lips curled into a smile after slowly opening his eyes.

"Hey, good morning to you. You didn't leave."

"I'm right here," Olivia inched closer, pressing her lips to his. "I didn't want to."

"Really? Good. Because I didn't want you to go." Fitz's eyelids lowered blissfully while swinging his arm around her. They cuddled in silence, getting reacquainted with each other.

"Hmm, this is awesome," he said, creating figure 8's on her arm with his finger.

"I agree."

Olivia yawned, closing her eyes blissfully. The deep stretch of her limbs was near orgasmic. When she finished, she realized Fitz was looking at her intently. Her eyes caught his subtle tongue swipe on his lips.

Fucking mesmerized by him.

To bring herself back to reality, she asked the important question.

"So...you're definitely leaving today?"

"Yeah, tonight," Fitz replied pensively. "But I can come back, if you want me to. I have some time before I film again. You tell me and I'll get here as fast as I can."

Olivia felt her cheeks rise as a small grin appeared on her face. Fitz was giving her hope and was showing himself to be a reliable kind of man. That was completely the opposite of what she was used to in her limited experiences of dating.

"I don't want you to rearrange your schedule for me."

"But I want to," he rubbed her stomach, "I will do what I need to. If you'll allow me."

"You seem to be here for the long haul."

Fitz smirked and answered matter-of-factly. "I am."

"That sounds good."

He sat up and linked his fingers with hers. "Rehearsal or dance class today?"

Olivia yawned again before answering. "Neither. Just going to relax, work on some choreography. Haven't heard back from the audition. But I want to be ready, just in case they want to see me again."

"Awesome," he smiled, before lowering his head to kiss her.

The spark of his touch caused a bold current that moved through her, all the way down to her toes. Feeling his thumb rub that small crook between her jaw and neck, as they confided in the treasure of their mouths, Olivia knew she was turning into a sappy puddle of feelings.

"You stayed," he mumbled in between kisses.

Her eyelashes rapidly fluttered while answering back. "Fitz. This really means something to you, doesn't it?"

He nodded, giving her a crooked smile. "It does. Had a few too many instances when people left, didn't stick around. I tend to love hard, and expect the same, but of course, that doesn't always happen. But this is good."

Like a heavy sigh of relief when the storm had finally passed, Olivia's heart was lighter.

The pressure to resist was gone.

"This is good."

A sweet Eskimo kiss, in between soft sighs and warm snuggles.

"I'm glad."

Olivia continued to smile as she cupped Fitz's face; "Me too."

1 and a 2 and a 3 and a 4

1 and a 2 and a 3 and a 4

After more cuddles, kisses, a fun, athletic round of glorious sex, and a bittersweet goodbye, Olivia took the train back to her apartment, to get back on her grind. Counting in her head and drilling steps into her body. As much as she was currently keen on Fitz, she needed to focus on my true love — the reason why she could have only met him in the first place.

Had to dance, had to move, had to breathe, had to live.

Arms cross, then down, cross and down.

Sway. Those. Hips.

Pas de bourrée, pas de bourrée, lunge forward and prep. Triple pirouette, step back into a lunge.

End with a firebird jump and pose.

Weight shift, Chassé downstage right, plié.

Since their apartment was rarely used, Harrison and Olivia were able to convince their landlord to allow them to create a practical yet artistic space in the apartment. With a few adjustments, the living room could turn into a mini-dance studio. It was quite convenient when weather didn't permit her to travel or she needed to work on choreo quickly, or needed some time alone.

A text from Stephen, informing of the need to visit. Olivia already knew he was going to rip her a new one for leaving the party. Regardless, she freshened up and waited for him. His signature arrival — four knocks, two soft, two loud, led her to the door.

"Liv!"

Stephen grabbed Olivia's shoulders, forcing a strong peck on her cheek, then moving into the apartment. Stunned, she closed the door.

"Hello..."

"We need to talk."

Olivia's eyebrows lowered, taken aback by the seriousness in his voice. It was so firm. "Okay..."

Stephen nodded and quickly asked, "Remember that audition you had last month?"

Immediately, Olivia let out a painful breath. She hated being in limbo when it came to her dance auditions. It would be easier to get rejected than to be strung along… The reminder of a horrible memory that felt like a harsh blow to the gut, almost making one sick. "Unfortunately..."

"Well," he started, pulling out a chair for her to use. "The choreographer liked you."

Twisting her lips, as she sat down, Olivia replied sarcastically, "Oh, really now? Certainly didn't like me enough to bring me back for the final callback, that I knew others attended. Why would you tell me this?"

Stephen rolled his brown eyes and spat out, "Hold up, Liv. Let me finish."

Crossing her leg over her knee, she relented in a biting tone. "Fine."

"Alyssa sent your audition video and resume to another agency. They love your form, drive, and work ethic. They saw our video too. They want you. On the West Coast. Rehearsals start in September; you'll be on the road a month later, but your base is in L.A."

Olivia wasn't able to compute anything he said. This didn't make any sense and must have been a straight up lie. She had never received a second chance like that from a company before. If she didn't receive a callback, it was usually one and done. Thank you, maybe next time.

"Don't pull my leg, Stephen," she sharply replied, not wanting more disappointment after a wonderful high with Fitz. "If this was the only reason why you came, to pull a shenanigan like this, I will kick you in your throat."

Stephen reached in his pocket, taking out his cell phone. "Why would I lie to you, Liv? Come all this way to just shoot the breeze with your fiery ass. I'll let you hear the message."

To her surprise, Olivia stood corrected, hearing words of acceptance and confirmation of a spot that was opened up for her. The opportunity was legit. She would be a featured dancer for a pop/electronica group. They needed extra performers during their sets.

"What? Wow," she sighed, doing her fucking hardest to not break down in any kind of emotion. "This...is great."

Stephen moved over to her, with a look of pride. "I know, right? Couldn't do this over the phone. Had to see your face. I'm so proud of you, my girl. I knew your moment would come."

Olivia covered her face to give herself a minute. Finally, an opportunity that could change her life and career? It sounded too good to be true.

"Umm," she bit her lip, feeling tears stream down her face. "Thank you, Stephen."

"Of course, we want you to succeed, Liv," he took her hand, kissing her knuckles. "Call Harrison."

Nodding, Olivia fumbled for her phone.

"Harrison?"

"Sis, what's wrong," he answered frantically, probably ready to leave wherever he was to get to her side.

Being so choked up, it was impossible to get words out. "Nothing's wrong," she confirmed, taking deep breaths, and almost giggling. "I think we may have a change of plans."

"Hello?"

"Hi."

"Couldn't wait to call me before I go?"

"I guess," Olivia rolled her eyes, while sprawled on her bed. As she flirted, there was a little bit of doubt filling her mind as she wondered if she should follow through with the purpose of the phone call.

"Fitz?"

"Yeah, babe?"

Olivia's breath hitched; she was not expecting him to call that. At all.

"Do you have any room at your place for me in a month?"

"Of course… Why?"

"I got offered a job in L.A. for 10 weeks and I was wondering if I could stay with you."

She squeezed her eyes shut after rambling, as if it would have dulled the anticipation.

"Olivia, that's fucking wonderful! I knew something would come up, and yes, you absolutely can stay with me."

"Okay, well, you don't have to give me a definite answer. I thought I'd ask you first. I don't have any friends over live there," she attempted to justify. "Well, none that I trust."

"You trust me?"

She ceased fiddling with her hair, a nervous habit she picked up since living in the City.

"Yes."

"Olivia?"

"Yeah, Fitz?"

"You can stay at my place as long as you need to. I would love for you to be here with me."

His response shocked Olivia more than the trust question.

"Really? Thank you."

"Yeah," he chuckled. "So, uh, I have about three more hours before I have to go to the airport. May I see you?"

Olivia beamed and her heart leapt at the thought of seeing Fitz once more. "Sure. Meet me at the studio?"

"Okay," he answered with a hint of intrigue in his voice. "I'll see you soon."

Olivia wanted to see him again in the place where their relationship took the next step. Arriving in front of the studio building, she took in the whole environment. This was her home away from home for three years. Countless memories of achievement and tears, but it all led up to this. As she sat down on the steps, she was reminded of the humidity of August in the City that was in full effect. The last month and a half moved shockingly fast and painfully slow at the same damn time. She wasn't expecting any of this to occur. Life shook her up silly and told her to sit her ass down.

"Hey," she heard him call.

"Hi."

Olivia fixed her gaze on him, smirking. In a grey t-shirt, dark denim jeans, and aviator sunglasses on his face, his outfit reminded her of the day they met. She judged him so harshly and quickly by what he was wearing. Man, she was dead wrong. So much was changing. She was changing.

"Whatcha got there?"

Fitz looked down at the large bag he was carrying. "Nothing much. Just wanted to have my stuff with me, just in case I lose track of time."

"Want to go in," she asked, bringing herself to standing.

Fitz's eyes sparkled. "Sure."

To her delight, the large room was empty — her absolute favorite thing in the world. Freedom at its best.

"Remember when you showed me how to do that pas de deux," Fitz whispered as his arm slyly curled around her waist.

Olivia's ears perked as she glanced at him, leaning back, with her jaw dropping to the floor. "What in the hell? I never taught you that phrase."

"I know. I googled it. See, I can take initiative," he said, placing a kiss on my temple. "Olivia, I told you. I was going to prove you wrong and make you feel a certain way about me. Hopefully for the better.

The answer made her light up, feeling like a giddy schoolgirl. "You're making progress, Fitz Grant."

She rose on her toes to kiss him. Fitz hummed, pulling her in, so there was no room in between them.

Surprising him, Olivia turned on her heel and chasséd to the stereo, connecting the Bluetooth from her phone.

"God, you move fast."

She ran back to Fitz, extending her arm towards him.

"Dance with me?"

Fitz bowed, then took her hand. "Of course."

Quickly, he pulled her into his arms. Olivai placed her head on his chest; they rocked back and forth. Step, touch. Step, touch. A pause here, ball changes over there. A new song's tempo changed, allowing their bodies to naturally move faster to the beat. Seeing Fitz enjoy himself as they danced and jump around, then hearing his heart beat as she leaned on him made her feel like a Princess, floating around with her Prince.

This was everything.

"I love this," she proclaimed, as the rhythm mellowed out.

Fitz pressed his hand on the small of her back, "Same. I love this. I love watching you dance. You're a dream."

Olivia looked at him, with gratefulness in her eyes. "You're the best."

"Hey," he whispered in a low register. "I wanna show you something."

She put her hands on her hips, as she watched Fitz took four large steps back, planted his feet, then executed a pirouette. It didn't even matter to that it was sloppy and so fucking exaggerated; it looked so cool.

Very impresed, Olivia cheered, "That was awesome! Do it again."

"Nope! An New York exclusive. Maybe I'll give you an encore when you arrive in L.A.," a cheeky Fitz replied. "C'mere!"

Wanting to tease him, Olivia decided to outdo him, and quickly chainé-turned to him. She used him as a spot to focus on as she rotated four times, in a high relevé, then sharply finishing.

"You are amazing, don't you forget this," Fitz chuckled, putting his hands on her hips.

"You are too. Thank you, Fitz."

In a trance, her eyes watched him for an answer, but no words followed, their angsty glances leading them to kiss. Hasty, but meaningful. Their hands pulling and reaching for anything they could grasp. Olivia sighed into Fitz's mouth, as if she needed him to breathe more, while grabbing at the bottom of his t-shirt and the loops of his jeans.

"We should go," he breathed with his forehead touching hers. "Somewhere else."

Olivia frowned, not wanting to stop. "Where?"

"Over there," she heard him say after a delay. She turned to find where he was referencing; the door that led to the closet with hula hoops, spare shoes, and other crap. There wasn't much room. Just enough space for me to extend my leg somewhere.

Usually, she was never one to defile a dance hall or execute a vile act in her holy corner. But Olivia wanted more and willing to risk it. It was their last night. For a while. Time to make it count.

They rushed in the closet. Fitz slammed the door behind him, and they returned to their "regularly scheduled program". Olivia pressed her back against the wall, groaning in Fitz's ear as he swiftly thrusted into her, slipping his hands underneath her oversized tank top. His fingertips were calloused, but agile, and felt amazing on her skin. If she wanted to rush, she would have come immediately.

"Damn, your rhythm has improved." She yelled, flinging her head back, nearly giving myself a concussion and blowing her cover from anyone who might have innocently entered the studio.

Seductively winking at her, Fitz huskily commented. "Fuck yeah, it has. But I always have rhythm where it counts."

They stared at each other for five seconds, before bursting out in laughter.

Fitz's eyes were shut, lines crinkled on the side; Olivia couldn't recall being so eager to join in and laugh with him. So full of life and joy. His smile was more adorable now that she was falling hard for him. Resistance was futile!

"Damnit, Fitz. This is ridiculous," she exclaimed, trying to sober up from her drunken kiss giggles. "We can't do this here."

He shook his head, eyes wide with passion. "Actually, we can. If you just put your hand here, and your leg, there."

Olivia's nose scrunched as she playfully shook her head. "Oh no, Sir. I can't get injured."

"No, we can't have that, but I can still kiss you right now."

Wrapping her arms around Fitz's waist, she purred, "Let's go, handsome."

"Ohhh," he sassed after kissing her jaw and neck. "We're doing pet names now? You're the one making progress, Olivia."

Using her thumb and index finger to squeeze on his earlobe, she retaliated playfully, "Shut up. Keep on doing what you're doing."

Olivia bit her lip, stifling a yelp as Fitz respectfully lowered her dance leggings so he could gain access, pushing her lace thong to the side, focusing on her clit.

"You like, dancer?"

"Fuck yeah."

Their kiss deepened, subtly interrupting themselves with giggles, new inside jokes, and more intimate touches.

After Olivia got her fill, she flipped the script, making sure Fitz was satisfied as well. Kneeling down, she had to see, feel, and taste him again.

"I use my mouth well, more than cussing you out, don't I," she teased, before licking the underside of his cock.

Fitz's abs contracted so much, she thought she was sucking the soul out of him. He loved that frisky side of her.

When they finished, casually exiting the closet, the relief of knowing no one was there. Their plan worked. She would never do it again, but it was sort of cool to do something spontaneous.

Olivia told Fitz she'd send him off to the airport.

"I'll see you in a bit."

"Yes, indeed."

Fitz lifted Olivia as they exchanged one more memorable kiss.

She watched him walk through security, waving goodbye, blowing a kiss, and off to the waiting area.

Back in the cab, Olivia did feel sad, but very hopeful and optimistic of their upcoming reunion.

Such a turnaround. It was now apparent to Olivia what she wanted. A different mindset.

To be happy with herself, her work, and to be with someone who would accept her.