The days and weeks go by, your life flitting past you in comfortable uniformity: wakeup, breakfast with Hobi, work, after work chilling with Hobi with occasional dance events, dinner with Hobi, sleep, repeat. You love your job, but dancing makes you feel happy in a different way. Working in a bookstore is lovely, you meet many different kinds of people and learn many things every day. It’s content, quiet happiness.

But dancing, dancing makes you feel like there’s a new kind of energy coursing through your veins. The music controls your body and the grin spreading across your face is an expression of pure, wild joy. And Hoseok is right next to you, his body moving in answer to yours, his movements and yours responding to each other, a natural choreography.

At the academy, he is close to a big ballet performance, the precise and strict dance taking its toll on his free spirit. Whenever the two of you dance, he goes all out, for an hour or two completely letting go of the restraints of studying dance, and instead just dancing.

You’re at a practise room at the academy after another one of your dance “lessons”, both of you panting and sweaty as a slower song starts playing.

 

*I was made for you by sumire*

 

You smile at Hobi, who is lying on the floor collapsed after a few too many intense routines. Kneeling down, you grab his hands, pulling him up for the song that, as you know, is the signal that the lesson is over. You pick a slow song to finish with every time and this is what you chose today.

“Come on, one last dance. It’s the closer. Don’t leave me hangin’ like this on my favourite song!” His only response is a unintelligible grumble seeming he is lying facedown on the floor, but you can see his shoulders shaking with giggles and his feet already moving with the music.

A smile parting your lips you see him lift his head, a played pained look on his face. He lets out a low whining noise. Suddenly he speaks, a cocky grin on his lips and a excited gleam in his eyes: “What do I get? Cause I am quite comfortable on the floor.” You laugh, rolling your eyes at him: “Never mind then, if you wanna be that annoying about dancing with your best friend to her favourite song…” You turn away from him, shooting him a small smile before your back is turned to him, your body already moving to the music. There’s no routine, no choreography, just how your body decides to move to the song you like. SO you move, your body responding to the beats, your hips swaying as you dance with your eyes closed for a bit, getting more into the music you already know by heart. The song isn’t made for dancing, and you didn’t pick it to jump around to. It’s a song you love and it’s a good to concentrate to and calming while still having a beat behind it.

As you open your eyes you find Hoseok sitting up, his eyes fixed on you. You take a look at yourself in the mirror, your dance clothes tight and in some parts stuck to your skin, you face flushed from dancing, slowly swaying and moving to the song with a serene smile plastered across your face. You look like you need a shower. And some food. So why is he staring like that?

“What are you looking at? Come dance with me, you must know some dance that goes with this?”

Startled, he gives you a wonky smile, “Ah, Honey, you caught me. It’s been a while since I watched you dance instead of being next to you and concentrating myself. I was caught off guard by how much you’ve changed since then….”

At his casual endearment, you turn around, the song fading out into something new anyways. You catch his eye, confused at his comment: “What does that mean, huh? And when did you ever watch me dance. I have only ever danced publicly with you, and not even practised in front of you, only with you.”

His eyes widen and he begins to stutter out an answer: “Uhhh, I might’ve watched you dance by yourself when I was late for practise… I kinda got caught up in watching so 5 minutes turned into half an hour or something… I thought you would feel awkward if you knew, so I didn’t tell you... “ He jumps up, his face red with something other than exhaustion now. As he rushes across the room to change, you are still dumbfounded by what he said.

“Why would you watch me dance? I am just your partner, I only make mistakes and act as an accessory to your dancing. I love dancing but there’s no reason for you to watch me.”

He freezes, suddenly turning around with anger on his face: “Are you stupid, y/n? You move to the music more effortlessly beautiful than anyone I have seen. I watched you because I was transfixed by you. When we were 15 and you suddenly went from a lanky mess to a woman’s body? I basically had to force myself to concentrate on my own dancing. I would’ve much rather spent all my time watching you move.” He is suddenly right in front of you, his slender hands grabbing your wrists, his eyes piercing and expression dead serious. “You’re an amazing dancer, y/n. I probably wouldn’t be here at the academy today if dancing with you hadn’t been the highlight of my highschool years.”

As his words find a home in your heart, you body notices the proximity of Him. Your heartbeat speeding up and breathing stuttering you register that he is closer than he’s been any other time outside of dancing. Your eyes can’t help but roam over his body, he is breathing heavily, a mix of exhaustion and agitation.

The evening light hits his profile and he is glowing.

Sometimes he really is breathtaking.

 

As you notice his eyes fixed on yours, your heart stutters. He’s just angry, don’t misinterpret this. Neither of you moves, and his hands still on your wrists, the silence drags on until you can’t take it anymore.

You force out a laugh, ripping away from him to turn off the music and collect your things, ready to change and go home.

“Come on, don’t talk nonsense, let’s shower and go home.”

He opens his mouth to answer, but promptly closes it again, shaking his head silently as he turns to leave as well.

 

The two of you shower and make your way home, silently.

As you emerge from your room in your pajamas for your evening routine of ramyeon and a TV-Show, he is already in his room. Something’s obviously changed between you two, unfortunately. “Maybe he’s just tired..:” you quietly say to yourself, preparing the food for yourself only as you suddenly hear the door of his room open.

“I’m heading out, don’t wait up, I might not get home til the morning…” He shoots your way, not even looking at you as he hurries out the door. A quick wave and he’s gone.

So he dumps you for a tinder date? Normally you two joke about these things, you have even helped him get ready for some dates, and now he just leaves with barely a word.

While you wait for your show to load, you decide to peruse the dating app as well, of course promptly confronted with his profile. And the fact that every single picture on his profile was taken by you. Why does it bother you so much?

The thrumming noise of the Netflix starting credit rips you from your fixation of one of your favourite pictures of him. He’s shirtless in the kitchen, the big grin on his face illuminated by the sun.

It’s only good manners to superlike your best friend on tinder, Right?