Mystery Girl

Busan 15

Jin's POV

I overhear y/n's conversation with Hobi even though they are talking quietly between themselves. My heart blazes with a flame at the thought of Hobi's hands on y/n's shoulders or hips, but I sit in silence, not wanting to draw attention to my jealousy or do something stupid that I don't mean. 

After convincing myself that it will be fun for y/n and reminding myself she will have to leave soon anyway, I am able to push my feelings down and return to the upbeat atmosphere of the room. I hope they have fun.

Y/n's POV

Light blinds me as I enter the studio Hobi has rented out near the stadium. The floor is polished and springy as you walk on it and there are mirrors covering one wall, tracing my every movement. Hearing the heavy wooden door shut behind me, I turn around and am met with Hobi's smiling face. 

With an air of confidence, that seems to suit him so well, he walks across the room and sits in the middle, patting the space next to him for me to sit down. I do as indicated and he pulls out his phone, navigating through YouTube to a dance choreography video. 

We both watch without words, his eyes trained on my face to see my reaction (it is very distracting in my peripheral vision) and my eyes focused mainly on the movements of the female dancer, assuming that is who I am supposed to be copying. 

Panting softly, the dancers come to an ending position and I know that this is my cue to talk and to say that I am happy with the dance. Once I have made eye contact with a hopeful Hobi though, the words fall away from me so I nod instead, hoping every word that I wanted to say is conveyed through my eyes. 

Flashing a blinding smile, Hobi offers me his hand as he stands up effortlessly, not needing to use his own hands for support. Taking his help gratefully, I feel almost embarrassed about my athletic ability. I think that he notices this because his bright smile turns into an encouraging, friendly one: one that a teacher may present to a student - a smile I use often as a teacher back home. 

Hobi's natural kindness and patience are some of the only things that keep me going as I realise some of the choreography requires isolations of the body or balance (which I don't possess). My hot-headed nature is starting to threaten this fun activity as my patience starts to run out like sand from an hourglass. 

Being as observant as Hobi is, I know he can feel the annoyance emitting from me in waves. His confidence seems to ebb away at my expression and a tidal wave of guilt comes over my senses, washing away my silly impatience. The last thing I want to do is to ruin this for him. 

Plastering a smile on my face, I nod at him subtly and he walks over to me cautiously, searching for permission in my eyes to let him touch me. In response, I keep eye contact and remain in my previous position, trying to look as friendly as possible, not wanting to direct any of the anger at myself towards him. 

When he reaches me, he places his hand on my shoulder slowly, letting me watch him as he does so in case I want to flinch away. I stay still to show him that he can do whatever he wants and slowly the confidence starts to flush back into his complexion and I start to smile genuinely again, delighted that I haven't hurt his feelings. 

Hobi guides my movements with his hands, like a potter with clay. He pulls my shoulder back when they have been unconsciously slumped forward and he moves my feet when they have been turned in too much. 

With Hobi's help, my body is slowly starting to make sense of the moves and I am beginning to build hope that I can do this. We only have around 2 hours so Hobi has time to get ready before their concert tonight, so I don't have all that long to try and make sense of the choreography. I had suggested that we do this another day when he doesn't literally have a concert the same day, but Hobi had insisted on doing it this afternoon, so here we are.

Once the burning of the flames of anger release their grip over my heart, I start to become more aware of how Hobi's hands carefully hold me, his gentleness endearing to me. The flush of red in my face that had been pent up irritation starts to transform into shyness and I want to punch the awkward smirk of the face of the girl who stares back at me in the mirror. 

Dancing in front of a mirror is of course something I am used to, being stupid at my friends' sleepovers, singing along to ABBA or Katy Perry in my pyjamas and smudged makeup. Although I am used to watching my reflection, simply bouncing around idiotically is not the same thing as trying to seriously dance and finding that you look almost as ridiculous. 

Now the mood is lighter, I laugh at myself, informing Hobi that I am probably not qualified to do this. As I turn my head up to look at him behind me, he smiles and states that I more fun to work with for that very reason. There is a glint of playfulness in his eyes and I stick my tongue out at him, fake pouting for agreeing with my moaning about my bad dancing.

Laughing, Hobi tugs on my ponytail, telling me that I am not the worst, at least. Whirling around, I start to chase after him, giggling as the air rushes from my lungs. He cries out as my fingers brush against his upper back - so close to catching him. With some kind of magic speed, he sprints away from me and the forward momentum sends me to the floor. 

Sliding across the wood, I curl up in order to protect myself, still laughing softly until my elbow hits something quite hard. 

(1045 words)

Author's Note

Ahhhhh hi I'm sorry for my late update, was my brother's birthday on Sunday- not really an excuse but just so you know why I didn't get around to updating. I hope you liked this chapter and are looking forward to the next one :) Vote and comment if you want to and I love you guys 💜