BTS IMAGINES AND SCENARIOS

Bloom✿(Jung Hoesok/Hobi)

The dance studio smelled faintly of wood and something clean, like polished floors mixed with Hoseok’s citrusy cologne. The walls were lined with mirrors, and the overhead lights glowed warmly, reflecting his energy back at him. Hoseok stood at the center, hands on his hips, a mischievous grin stretching across his face.

“You’re not escaping this time,” he announced, bouncing on his heels.

“No excuses, no fake injuries, nothing.”

You raised a brow, already laughing.

“You make it sound like I’m about to run a marathon. It’s just dancing.”

“Just dancing?” He clutched his chest dramatically.

“You wound me. Dancing is life.”

Then, before you could protest again, he grabbed your hand and tugged you toward the center of the studio.

“Hobi—” you started, but the music kicked on, upbeat and infectious.

“Trust me,” he said, placing your hand on his shoulder while his own settled lightly at your waist. His gaze softened for just a moment, grounding you.

“Just follow me.”

The first step was a disaster. You tripped over your own feet, bumping into his chest, and you couldn’t stop the groan that escaped you. But Hoseok only laughed, the kind of laughter that filled every corner of the room, contagious and bright.

“Perfect,” he said.

“Perfect?!” you sputtered, pulling back to glare at him. “I nearly took us both down.”

“Exactly,” he grinned, spinning you lightly before you could argue more.

“It was perfectly you. That’s what makes it beautiful.”

Heat flushed your cheeks, but you kept going, guided by his steady hands and unwavering encouragement. Every time you faltered, he turned it into part of the routine, exaggerating your steps until you were both laughing too hard to care about precision. The music wrapped around you, no longer intimidating but liberating, and for once you weren’t thinking about how awkward you looked — you were thinking about the way Hoseok’s eyes lit up each time you tried again.

By the time the song ended, your chest hurt from laughing, and you leaned against him, breathless. He didn’t let go, though. His arm lingered around your waist, pulling you just a little closer, until your foreheads nearly touched.

“You see?” he whispered, his smile softer now, tender in a way that made your heart stutter.

“You don’t have to be perfect. You’re already enough. With you… even mistakes bloom.”

The studio was quiet except for your breaths and the fading echo of the song, but it felt like the world had tilted — like everything outside that room had melted away. Hoseok wasn’t just teaching you how to dance. He was teaching you how to let go, how to trust, how to bloom even in the places you thought you couldn’t.

And when the next track started, he squeezed your hand, eyes gleaming. “Again?”

This time, you didn’t hesitate.