Punches and Pirouettes |NOMIN|

Chapter 6

The rest of the week passed in a blur of anticipation for Jaemin. His heart fluttered every time he saw Jeno in the hallways, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding that was as thrilling as it was confusing. Donghyck watched from the sidelines, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. "You're playing with fire, you know," he warned.

But the fire was precisely what drew Jaemin in. Jeno's coldness to everyone else only served to highlight the warmth that he reserved for him. It was as if he had unlocked a secret chamber in the boxer's heart, a place where no one else was allowed to tread.

In the days leading up to the match, Jeno was more attentive than ever. He sent texts with instructions on what to wear, where to sit, and what to expect. Each message was a small gift, a piece of himself that he allowed Jaemin to hold onto. The dancer found himself eagerly awaiting each one, his heart racing at the mere sight of Jeno's name on his screen.

At school, the other students noticed the change in the boxer's demeanor, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about the match with Jaemin. It was as if the ice that usually surrounded him had melted away, revealing a passion that was as fiery as it was surprising. The whispers grew, turning into full-blown conversations as people speculated about what was happening between the two.

But when Jeno was around Mark and Vernon, the coldness returned, a wall slamming back into place. His smiles were forced, his laughter hollow. It was as if he couldn't bear to let anyone else in on his secret, to share the warmth that had started to bloom in his chest.
It irritated him how sometimes Vernon talked about Jaemin, but he couldn't do anything because Jaemin wasn't his.

The days leading up to the match were a tumult of emotions for Jeno. He found himself torn between his love for the brutal art of boxing and his burgeoning feelings for the delicate dancer. Each punch he threw in training was fueled by the thought of impressing Jaemin, of showing him that there was more to him than just his fists.

Jeno's coldness to everyone else was a facade, a shield he had honed over the years to keep his world at bay. But with Jaemin, the walls crumbled, revealing a vulnerability that made his heart race and his palms sweat. The dancer's gentle nature was a stark contrast to the chaos of the boxing ring, and Jeno found himself craving the peace that came with their quiet moments together.

As the week progressed, Jeno's anticipation grew with each passing hour. He had never felt this way about anyone before, and it scared him. The thought of someone seeing beyond his reputation, of someone understanding the pain that fueled his fists, was both exhilarating and terrifying. He knew that opening up to Jaemin was a risk, but it was one he was willing to take.

The day of the match finally arrived, and the tension in the air was thick. Jeno picked Jaemin up from his house, his nerves palpable as he drove them to the underground venue. The rain had started to come down, each droplet a cold reminder of the stark reality that awaited them.

Jeno's eyes remained fixed on the road, his jaw set as he navigated the dark, wet streets. The silence in the car was heavy, only broken by the occasional splash of water against the windshield. It was as if the storm outside mirrored the turmoil in Jeno's heart. He was cold to everyone else, but with Jaemin, there was a warmth that was impossible to ignore.

As they pulled up to the dimly lit warehouse that served as the venue for the boxing matches, Jaemin felt his stomach clench. The place was grimy and run-down, a stark contrast to the pristine dance studios he was used to. The sound of distant cheers and the faint smell of sweat and blood filled the air, setting his nerves on edge.

Jeno noticed his discomfort and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's not for everyone," he said, his voice low. "But it's a part of me."

Jaemin swallowed hard, his eyes on the warehouse. "I know," he murmured. "And I want to support you."

Jeno's grip on the steering wheel tightened for a moment before he turned to face him, his eyes searching. "Why?" he asked, his voice gruff. "Why do you care?"

Jaemin's heart stuttered. He had been asking himself the same question since that first night at the party. "Because when I watch you in the ring, I see the same passion in your eyes that I feel when I'm on stage."

Jeno's gaze searched his, looking for the truth in his words. "And what about when you dance?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jaemin's eyes lit up, the passion for his craft shining through. "When I dance," he said, his voice filled with a quiet intensity, "I feel alive. Like nothing else matters except the beat of the music and the movement of my body."

Jeno's gaze softened, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. "That's how I feel when I fight," he admitted, his thumb brushing over the back of Jaemin's hand. "It's like...everything else just fades away."

Jaemin nodded, his heart racing. "I can see it," he said, his voice filled with awe. "The way you move, it's like a dance."

Jeno's eyes searched his, a flicker of surprise in their depths. "You think so?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Jaemin nodded, his heart racing. "Yeah," he murmured. "It's like...you're not just fighting. You're telling a story with your fists."

Jeno's smile grew, the warmth in his eyes reaching a crescendo. "No one's ever described it like that before," he said, his voice gruff. "But you...you get it."

The moment hung between them, charged with a connection that was undeniable. The rain outside seemed to pause, as if even the weather recognized the gravity of their bond. Jeno leaned in, his breath warm against Jaemin's cheek. "Thank you," he murmured, his lips brushing against the dancer's ear.

Jaemin's heart skipped a beat, his skin tingling at the contact. He turned to face Jeno, their eyes locking in a silent promise that went beyond the confines of the dingy car. "For what?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"For seeing me," Jeno replied, his eyes searching. "For not being afraid of what you might find."