The Siren's Song

Chapter 87- passion's embers

(Y/N) POV:

The adrenaline, the buzz of the performance is something I still remember, still feel buzzing through my veins even though the competition is over. It remains fresh in my mind, that electric feeling of giddy exhilaration, of breathlessness, the world feeling as if it had melted away, had been only us dancing on stage and a group of eyes that I had felt fixed on me, had felt trained on me and had seen up close, heavy with pride and appreciation when they'd congratulated us afterwards. I remembered the breathless kisses and gasps of breath between incredulous laughter and murmured words. It was something that didn't leave.

Didn't leave even as I set the bouquet of flowers into a glass vase to set on my windowsill, didn't leave even as Mi-sun unnie and Habaek oppa had drawn me between them, had celebrated with me in a mess of laughter and tears and cuddles.

It remained with me and settled into my bones. Made me feel alive and exhilarated in a way that I hadn't felt in a long time. It was like everything was suddenly so much more, so much more vivid, so much more vibrant and so much more intense. As if performing had unlocked something inside me and it was constantly bubbling and fizzing out, unstoppable and wild.

And it made me both nervous and excited for the upcoming contemporary duet. Made me excited because we'd be competing on a song that I hadn't danced to for decades, excited because I'd get to dance my history, dance my past, dance for that part of myself that remained locked away and dance it in the present, dance it today when everything had changed, when the world and the people around me had changed. And excited because I'd get to dance it with someone who I trusted, someone who I'd entrusted a part of my heart to. I'd get to dance it with Jimin and that alone was exhilarating.

But with it came nerves.

Came the fear of not being able to perform to the legacy I'd created, of failing the past version of myself, of failing Habaek oppa and Mi-sun unnie who'd seen this dance form from nothing, who'd been there as I pushed my body to its limits and crafted this dance as a way to heal, as a way to accept me for me.

I was scared of failing the old me who'd risen, broken and battered and learnt to build herself up again.

I was scared of disappointing Jimin and not being able to perform properly.

I was scared but that in itself became the force driving me forward, became the thing that made me push myself to dance harder, better and fiercer than I ever had.

And it was this mixture of feelings and hopes and dreams that I'd associated with the song, with this performance that had me slipping out of the house earlier, had me heading out for the dance studio an hour or so before I was meant to meet Jimin to rehearse.

I head in, quietly making my way to the studio, the silence broken by the beep of the code being pressed in, hand closing around the handle and tugging it open, looking forward to warming up and getting a few run-throughs myself.

And stop short at the sight of a figure sitting with their knees drawn to their chest, looking down at something but head having risen towards the sound.

Soft round cheeks that curve upwards as he smiles and eyes forming half-crescents as he beams at me, fluffy strands of hair peeking out from under his hood.

Jimin bounces up easily, hand curved around his phone as he moves towards me.

"(Y/N)! You're here early." He greets as he steps towards me, arms wide for all but one instant until they're wrapping around me, scooping me close into a hug and tightly keeping me close.

My hands snake around his back to tug him closer, surprised by his early presence but so comforted by the warmth of his embrace, by the way his lips press kisses to my temple, down to my cheek.