If there was one upside to hours of agonising practice, it was collapsing in a heap on the studio floor and watching Soojin dance. The way her body flowed, powerful like the cresting waves of the ocean yet delicate like the grains of sand, was art in motion. 

Shuhua loved it. To be the only eyes in the audience. The one who saw the pinnacle - the height, the ecstasy. And the one privileged to witness the rock bottom - the heart ache, the salty tears. 

“You’re staring.” 

In the reflection of the mirror, Shuhua caught Soojin’s eyes. Passionate. Profound. Piercing. 

Chin propped on her folded arms, Shuhua replied without hesitation, “You’re beautiful.” 

“So you’re staring because I’m beautiful?” Covered in a film of sweat, Soojin frowned. Like the film, it floated only on the surface, her eyes dancing with a playful shimmer. “Is that all you see?” 

Too exhausted to stand, Shuhua army crawled. When her shoulder hit Soojin’s sneaker, she rolled onto her back. “Beauty grows from the heart. If the heart is beautiful, the rest will follow.” 

“Yah!” 

Lifting her arm, fingers tracing over the features of Soojin’s face from afar, Shuhua closed her eyes. On the inner lids of her eyes, she allowed her mind to paint the image of the woman above her in all her human glory. 

“Shu?” 

“Hm?” 

“Get up.” 

Shuhua opened her eyes and frowned. “Huh?” 

“Get up.” Soojin said, arms crossed with se