Un matin tu dansais | c.s + j.wy

et jamais je n'avais rien connu de pareil

[and i had never seen something this wonderful]

Craving to see Wooyoung again had become the routine for San. The fact that Wooyoung didn't even imagine about his existence didn't hurt him. It worked the exact way it was. The magic was in itself, in San's world. In that distance.
However, he discovered more about the dancer going more often to his shows. Discoveries about his reputation and his never-ending love life filled San's mind. Wooyoung loved to use his charm to conquer new lands and hearts of the strangers, the unknowns. According to somebodies, that's the way he got his parts. San didn't believe them, though. Only a blind could think that Wooyoung wasn't enough for his shows, despite the bad attitude he could hide behind his perfect features.

Someday, San found himself to wait for the dancer outside the theatre. Of course, he wasn't the only one. A crowd of journalists, fans and managers were waiting for him, too. San was used to it, too. For sure, it was not his first time being involved in that situation.

Usually, Wooyoung came out alone, giving a lot of fascinating smirks to every person there, greeting with little waves of his tapered hands. The magic only lasted a few seconds, before the dancer entered his voiture and flew away, leaving his spell behind the roaring sound of his limousine. The spell that San had been stuck into for months.

And every action, every emotion, repeated itself once a month.

But that day, something went different.

It was the last show for Notre-Dame de Paris. So, San and others stood out the entrance with some bouquets in their hands, ready to gift the dancer with them. Somebody dreamt about Wooyoung to notice him, to remember his features; someone else wanted only to have a closer look to his body. San, instead, only wanted to give Wooyoung the smallest and most useless gift ever, trying to bury in it all his feelings towards his dancing. He knew, though, that for Wooyoung that was only another bouquet like all the others.

The ravanette boy made his appearance as usual, making the people to scream louder at him.

"When the next show?"

"Are you ever performing abroad?"

"What do you think of the upcoming programs of the theatre?"

Wooyoung only nodded at every question, not giving anyone nothing more than a grin and a polite response. He couldn't say he hated the journalists, since it was thanks also to them if he was famous the way he was. His silences helped to build his image of fascinating, mysterious and fatal dancer boy that the audience appreciated so much.
It was only a second later that Wooyoung hesitated before entering his car, as usual. His head directed to a certain direction. To a certain someone. Someone that he has seen a lot of times, and who that night looks beautiful in his suit and gelled back hair.

He made his eyes rapidly wander in the other's direction, studying his sharp features, before connecting their eyes. San seemed caught off guard by such action, his heart skipped a beat. Wooyoung then landed his gaze on the flowers interlaced with his fingers, then again to his eyes. He lifted an eyebrow, silently asking the other to make a move.

San had never been a shy person, but something had just hit his mind. Like the previous spell between he and Wooyoung had been broken by the reality, by a real contact between the two.
Not missing a second, he made his arm to stretch and reach the other, who soon after grabbed the bouquet. The two shared another intense gaze, before Wooyoung left with a playful smirk. San, left in his space, in his world, stayed still.

That day, something changed.