Summary: it's a request based on Felix's bubble messages. ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS PORTRAYED IN THIS STORY ARE PURELY FICTIONAL!!!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Felix is nervous. Stomach twitching, palms all sweaty, legs shaking, Felix is so damn nervous it feels like he's going to pass away.
Plus, you don't help. Like, at all.
"I can't understand—" your whine sounds too loud, ringing in the empty office corridors, and Felix fights the urge to shut your mouth with his own palm.
"Just—" he grabs your hand a little harder, dragging you to the one particular practice room he booked for tonight. "I just need your help."
"What help, Lix?" It's almost midnight, and you wish you were at your bed right now, (you just changed your beddings this morning, and damn it, you want to dive into the fresh-made bed more than anything.) "It's not like I can judge your dancing or something..."
"I—" Felix's hands shake when he tries to open the door to the practice room, and it makes you even more suspicious, because what the hell he wants to do. "I just need you to watch me dancing. Just for one song, please."
He throws his bag on the couch when he finally enters the room, pushes you to seat on it as well while he rushes to turn the computer on and plug his phone in.
"What exactly do you want me to watch for?" You know you can't run away now.
Felix looks too concentrated when he presses the right bottoms and adjusts the volume. Your eyes travel down his back (loose dark shirt hugging his shoulders) to his legs twitching uncontrollably because, as it turns out, the internet is too slow while Felix tries to find the right track.
It feels like he didn't hear your question, and in the moment of that realization, you give in completely.
He's nervous. It's important. You can't turn him down when he needs your whatever it is so bad.
When hearing the ringing silence becomes too hard and when you start feeling as if your every breath can be heard in the dimness of the practice room, you try to call him once again.
"Lix—"
You know he hears you this time because you catch his reflection in the mirror, his eyes darting from the computer to you and then coming back to the monitor when he notices your stare.
Felix hesitates before answering. You can see it in the reflection, how his jaw tenses and eyes start jumping from one corner of the room to another, not finding yours.
"C-coolness?" He stumbles on the words, his hand rushing to his neck with embarrassment. "Power? Sexy vibes?" He clears his throat, finally turning the song on. The first few notes bang on your ears, and you're quick to realize what kind of dance he's going to show.
