𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 - 𝗪𝗼𝗼𝘀𝗮𝗻

[𝐅] 𝐊.𝐎. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐧 𝐋𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐓𝐖: ----
𝐓𝐨𝐩: Choi San, training to become a professional boxer, 18
𝐁𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐦: Jung Wooyoung, training to become a professional ballet dancer, 17
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jung Wooyoung had always aspired to become a ballet dancer. He was mesmerized at the young female ballet dancers who were dancing so delicately when he was eleven, every step he tried to copy. The instructor invited him into the training program, and he started to train ever since. Next door was the boxing program, in which Choi San was training in the boxing ring. A ballet dancer and a boxer, what an unlikely pair.

☆
𝑆𝑖𝑥 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝑎𝑔𝑜
𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐯

I stood on my tip-toes, my chocolate almond shaped eyes peared over the window sill. My focus settled onto the multiple dancing figures. My feet moved on their own as I tried to copy their same movements, clumsily. I looked down towards my beat-up sneakers, rotating my ankle in a failed attempt to stand on it. I lift my head to watch again. Instead, I am met with a pair of doe warm caramel eyes. I instantly feel all the blood rush up to my neck, leaving a radianthue of the color scarlet. The girl's eyes lit up, and she lifted her hand up high and proud for the instructor to see. Once she had her attention, her slender finger pointed to my direction, where I stood frozen. The female instructor's eyes lingered on my presence before she stepped out of her dance studio.

"Hello! I didn't notice you!" The woman greeted softly, I took note of her appreance. Her mocha color hair was in a tight, neat bun. She was also tall and lean, from my perspective. Her long legs seemed to hold a lot of muscle. "I- I am just here because my mother is in a shop running errands." I awkwardly rub my nape as soon as I finish talking. My mother arrives with two grocery bags in either of her hands. I ran to her side and helped with half of the grocery bags. My mother started to apologize if my presence was a distraction to the girls, to which the instructor denied it. The two seemed to engage in a conversation, but I didn't stay to listen.

I stood at the door and waited until they bid their goodbyes, and we both left for the bus stop. We had barely made it to the bus stop for the evening bus, and with heavy breathing, we paid for the bus fee and sat in the middle section of the vehicle. I sat next to the window and set the groceries on my lap before turning my head to my left side and staring at the distant sun setting into the horizon. Half of it was already hidden. The bus ride was long, from the city all the way to the countryside. Once, the both of us arrived, the air was chilly, and the stars peeked through the navy blue sky.

They cold air made it easier to breathe, and the few drops of sweat I had dried up. "Mother?" I quietly asked. Her steps were light, almost as if she was walking on feathers. "Yes, dear?" She hummed in response before her soft eyes landed on to my short stature, "What did the woman ask?" I inquired my question without prying in her business. Too much. "Oh, well..." She smiled happily as she thought back to the conversation she had with the ballet instructor. "She noticed that you very invested in the dance routine, and well, she also needs another person to join. So what do you think?"

I was taken a back at the sudden question, should I accept? But why would an instructor have offered an unexperienced child to learn ballet, in my opinion, it seemed absurd? I am very out of the age range to learn ballet. I know Mother would be proud, and she knows a lot of this, so I'll go with the flow. "But the tuition," I muttered worriedly. She brushes it off with a small smile. "Don't worry about that, me and your father will cover it, so what is your answer? Yes or no?" Mother asked as she set the two grocery bags she was holding on to the dirt road and crouches, squatting in front of me and grabbing my unoccupied hand with her two delicate hands. Her eyes are hopeful for my response.

"Yes."

Mother kisses my hand as happy tears fall from her milky chocolate eyes. She hugged me tightly, and I placed the two grocery bags I had next to hers and hugged her tightly in return. We stayed like this, under the brightly lit stars, in the middle of the dirt path, hugging each other as if I had gotten accepted into the most prestigious university in all of South Korea. I didn't question her unusual projection of emotions, but it is nice for a change. "We must hurry. Your father most likely thinks we didn't manage to catch the bus," my mother jokes, to which we both laugh silently. The two of us grabbed two grocery bags and skipped our way home. When we arrived, our nostrils were invaded with the smell of steamed vegetables and rice. Our stomachs grumbled together, and Father laughed as he persuaded us to eat before it froze.