I was taken aback by the sudden suggestion, but what he said was true. I was just a member of the dance club while he was the president. We didn't have much occasion to talk about ourselves and our lives.

"So... What made you join dance?" He tossed the first question.

"Hmm... When I was little, I took up ballet classes which were great, until I started to crave for something... Less refined. Less elegant. Not to say that modern dance is coarse, but ballet requires us to act like beautiful, poised, white swans-- And that's not my kind of thing. It's just not me," pausing to search his face for any reactions and continuing when I get a light nod, "But modern dance is different. It gives us the space to express emotions through our craft, to leave the audience going home with lingering feelings after our performance."

"Then, I guess you're more of a black swan?"

"Nah, an ugly duckling to be exact." The grave atmosphere cracked apart as we both chuckled light-heartedly.

"I totally disagree with that. You're... Not ugly."

"Damn, was that supposed to be a compliment??" I while acting offended, which was a standard defensive reaction to any compliments handed to me. Being the awkward human I am, I couldn't deal with compliments or praises.

"I meant to say... You're pretty."

Silence ensued as my brain toiled to come up with an appropriate response to it. My face felt like it had been set on fire and I could feel my heart beating crazily against my chest. No one had ever said that to me. Even my dad called me fat and ugly.

I guess he was hit with embarrassment the moment those words left his lips, for he began to rub the nape of his neck and tap his fingers against the steering wheel with anxiety.

After my senses returned to me, I knew I had to do something to divert the attention somewhere else.

"What about you? What made you want to take up modern dance?"

He took a moment of hesitation before he spoke, "It was actually an act of rebellion."

My eyes widened at the unexpected answer. I could not figure out the link between 'modern dance' and 'a rebellious act'.

"I come from a family of ballet dancers. My mother was a famous prima ballerina back in the 80s, and she met my dad when they were put together for a performance in Italy. My older sister is the principal ballerina for her dance troupe in Russia. Since young, I was pinned with great expectations to take after my parents, be a well-known ballerino and carry on my family's prestige in the industry. But I knew, deep down, that it wasn't what I wanted. So I did what I had to do-- Quit ballet, and dip my hands in a different colour of paint."

It was only our first day getting to know each other, but I really appreciated him opening up to me. I'm sure it wasn't easy to toss out matters of the heart -- especially to someone you barely knew.

"Wow... It must have been tough handling the pressure all alone... Your family may not be in support of your decision, but I sure am. Gosh, it would have been a total waste if you stuck to ballet. I mean... You know you're the best in our club right??" I looked at him with wide eyes, anticipating his answer. He shrugged his shoulders lightly, a playful smirk across his face. Both of us erupted into a boisterous laughter as we looked into each other's eyes.

The stern and grumpy image of Seungwoo in my mind entirely faded away when I saw his sweet smile. The faint moonlight radiated the cute crinkling of his nose and casted a shadow that highlighted those deep crevices on the sides of his lips. The lavender smell from his air freshener made me delve into an imagination-- An imagination of us lying down on a vast green field, under a dark night sky full of bright, pulsating stars. I could feel the tender grass beneath my feet as the light breeze ruffled them against my skin, sending a tickling sensation through my spine and a chill all over my body. I huddled closer to his side, elbow resting on his wide chest as my fingers ran through his soft brown hair and cupped his cheeks.

The car rolled over at the side of the road and my eyes which got lost in his, snapped into reality. The staring session was over, but his surprised expression was yet to be dissipated. This was when I realized that my imagination had gotten too far.

My left palm was in fact, touching the side of his face gently and I could feel the heat emitting from his now, reddening cheeks.

"OH.MY. I-I AM SO SORRY-" I hurriedly removed my hand from his face as if I had placed it on a scorching heated pan and a wave of regret washed over me as the warmth on my hand was gradually replaced by the cold temperature of a typical winter night. Inside, I was screaming out of my wits, praying for even the slightest possibility of ever salvaging this situation. Come on, brain, show me your capabilities!

"Erm- There was something on your face - Something like fur or dust - That I'm not sure...." Those words escaped my lips before it could even get processed in my mind and it just came out in a messy scramble. I pretended to be holding a piece of imaginary nothing in between my fingers and was about to roll down the windows to blow it out when Seungwoo's hands came over swiftly and grabbed mine in his.

He guided my palms to his cheeks, letting them rest gently on the narrow sides of his face. My hands were warm again.

"Let's just stay like this for awhile. Please."

--

Does anyone want me to update this story? Comment if you do! I'm not even sure if anyone is going to read this hahaha. Have a great day ahead~