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Music's MeaningThere we were, the music was taking us away, moving parts of our bodies that only the music could bring out within us. My hips were jerking with the rhythm, my feet taking steps in the exact places where we rehearsed. My lungs were burning and my heart was beating but I loved it, I craved this moment, to dance, to be free, to be myself.
"Your hip should move like this," Hoseok claimed, a bit irritated since I confused the execution of the dance step with one of the other verse of the song. His hand pressed my body closer to his, the pressure emitting a gasp from inside of me, my behind resting against his lower region. He seemed so unaffected but it was tearing me apart, I had the urge to rip my hair out because he was so out of my league.
I had only started these dance lessons about a couple months ago, it wasn't like we were strangers but definitely there was nothing between us. I shook my head, these facts and tiny memories weren't important nor will they ever be, and continued swaying my body to the beat of the song. He mimicked my movements, his arms snaking down mine then twisting me around to cup my face. It was part of the routine, I promised that but it was too heated and we were so proximate that my heart was beating a thousand times more with each time we repeated the entire choreography.
I had to undergo the rollercoaster of emotions just to reach my favorite part of the dance, the break dance. This was where we both incorporated b-boy moves but retained a y and intriguing element so it wasn't utterly awkward with the song.
His arms and mine were in sync, our legs jerking out then our bodies moving as one. The beat coincided with our abrupt movements, then our delicate ones following after.
"Perfect, just like that," Hoseok muttered, he was out of breath.
"You look good too," I answered as my eyes scanned his body through the mirrors surrounding us.
The song ended, leaving us both heaving and sweating but we enjoyed this. He strode to where I was standing, hi-fiving me to display how proud he was that the routine was a good one.
"You're sweating a lot, are you alright?" His hand brushed the hair always from my sticky forehead.
"Just a little lightheaded."
As I stepped back, to distant myself from him so I wouldn't be huffing in his face, I tripped over my untied shoelace. I was falling until sturdy hands caught me and pulled me close to their owner, wrapping around my back.
"Just a little lightheaded?" He smirked.
This distance, his nose so close mine, our lips only inches apart, his breath forming with mine, his body heat and mine colliding. It was all too much, to just stand there and allow my heart to beat uncontrollably, basically smashing it with a hammer. Before I could turn my head away to avert from his intense gaze, his lips reached out for mine; unlocking this part of my heart that he had stealthily taken the key. He was surprisingly warm, his lips, his hands cupping my cheeks, his body, the soft flavor of the peppermint he was on awakening my senses. The way he moved and grazed my skin was different, now out of affection and not just for show-business. I could note that the long, yearning pecks he was placing on my face and down my neck were more than wanting and desiring.
Maybe I was a bit more than lightheaded and more lost in love.
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