in a universe where soulmates exist, two passionate dancers try to figure each other out
❝𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘥❞
everyone has a soulmate. some will find theirs early on in lif...
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-ˏˋ autumn, new york
The key turned in the lock, and the door swung open to Minjee's and Yuna's apartment in the heart of New York City. The ballerinas winced as they stepped inside, feeling the exhaustion from a demanding practice session settle into their bones.
With a tired look on her face, Yuna closed and locked the door behind her. A small smile still managed to grace her lips as she gave Minjee a thumbs up, silently praising her for today, before turning away, heading down the hall towards her bedroom. The unspoken agreement to surrender to the embrace of sleep.
However, Minjee found herself lingering by the entrance. Her body ached, and her muscles protested with every step, but she couldn't sleep just yet. With her mind buzzing with thought, she decided to take a moment for herself.
Walking into her living room, her mind overflowed. Much had happened that day. Elena finding her soulmate, starting on the Nutcracker again and even getting a new, big role. All of it gave her mixed emotions. She felt genuinely happy for her friend, dancing gave her that rush of excitement and she felt content being surrounded by her friends.
Yet, she couldn't shake the negative thoughts that ran through her head. The lack of her soulmate connection has tried to consume her many times, and it was taking its toll as time progressed.
The connection and finding your soulmate is such a big part of life. The ballerina craved it, being an affectionate person and having so much love to give. With each year that passed, the chance of receiving her connection slipped away.
Shaking her head, she willed the thoughts away.
Who needs a soulmate anyway?
At least, that is what she and her friends had been saying, trying to stay positive.
Minjee worked hard, chasing her dreams to distract herself from her lack of connection. Becoming a principal dancer was one of them.
Drained, the ballerina sank into the cozy couch, seeking solace in her dimly lit living room. With a sigh, she reached up to pull free the elastic that held her hair in a tight, messy bun. Dark locks cascaded down, framing her face.
