Urge | p.jm [ONGOING]

Three

❝ We both have hands but why do mine refuse to touch ❞

He watched my every move as I came inside. I could still see his hand in the air, I probably left him startled. Hesitantly, he brought his hand back to his side. I was busy unpacking, too oblivious to my surroundings to notice he was there watching and standing. 

I eyed him closely, as soon as I had noticed. He furrowed his eyebrows, confusion was clearly written. It seemed like we talked with our eyes, because none of us actually talked. But strangely enough, we both understood what the other was saying. It was weird.

I almost got lost in his eyes, the twinkle it reflected, the way his pupils moved as he looked into mine. Our eyes chased each other, following the other slyly. It went on for quite some time before he spoke up, "Don't you feel hot?"

I raised an eyebrow at his direction before looking behind me to see my reflection, I had completely forgotten how dirty it was. The same dirty mirrors I was ranting in the morning on seeing, here I was right in front of them, yet I didn't realize? 

I then repeated his question in my mind 'Don't you feel hot?' it took a while for me to figure out what he meant. I was wearing the same outfit I chose yesterday but my chosen color was black, black absorbed heat. On top of that, I wore a mask and a hat. I was awfully covered from head to toe, it wasn't something he was used to seeing. 

But since he asked the specific question, it meant they didn't know. I would be able to hide it from them without worrying now. I was always insecure when people found out.

I let out an 'oh', returning to his gaze and shrugging. He nodded. I smiled at him unknowingly as his lips curved upwards, just the slightest bit. For the first time I acknowledged his outfit, he was wearing: black ripped jeans, black timberlands, white snap-back hat and a white sleeve-less T-shirt. 

I almost complimented him if I hadn't noticed the way his shirt stuck to his skin. The way wet patches were cascaded all over his upper body, I stopped the urge to throw up. He was sweating really badly. His hair was probably soaked with his own sweat, I gagged. The only good thing was, his abs were on display. 

I hadn't really seen his stares at me throughout the whole time I was judging his hygiene, "Are you okay? Are you going to puke?" He stepped forward instantly, possibly to comfort me seeing as there was a huge gap between us I had managed to make, catching me off-guard. I stepped back, stumbling backwards.

He ran to save me but I held a hand to stop him, he came to an halt. I somehow made myself stable. He looked at me with worried eyes and I gave him a thumbs up, declaring that I was now fine. He nodded before speaking once again, "We have been doing this routine with our previous choreographer. Can you please adapt it?"

I nodded, moving back a little more, my back almost hitting the mirrors. I silently gasped and then sighed in relief, I didn't need to scrub the living hell out of my back. Not today.

I waved my hand, signalling for him to proceed. He started immediately, and I hadn't seen anyone move like him.

He started low on the ground, snaking his body in many different levels. He did simple hip-hop moves before transforming them into extremely complexed ones, it was a sight I felt hypnotized by. From there everything went too fast. All I could do was concentrate purely on the way his body moved, the way he quickened his pace every second, the way he made it look so easy. 

I was lost for words, I had never seen such a move. Throughout the whole process of simply dancing such moves, his face was something I treasured. I couldn't seem to find myself to forget how he looked. His eyes shined, much more than when I was looking at him directly, his heavy breathing and the beating of his heart synced in such a way he made it sound perfect, his plump lips kept opening and closing. He licked his bottom lip, forming a firm layer of saliva glistening in the light, or he would bite them forcing them to be the only things you could set your eyes upon. 

I didn't find it disgusting, I surprised myself. 

Why was that so?

He stopped, swaying his body upright whilst jumping. Looking at me for a reaction, he gulped down water contained in his water bottle. His Adam's apple kept bopping up and down. I gulped. He then took of his hat and ran his fingers through each strand, I immediately showed a face of disgust.

He laughed, at my response. Purposely digging his fingers deeper into his scalp, the urge of throwing up interjected again.

"Please stop that, it's extremely disgusting and not a sight I would like to see. As for your dancing, it's.. let's say.. AMAZING! Perfect in other words. I can clearly tell you did my job for me though." I stated matter of factually.

His eyes widened, "How did you know?"

I smirked, "There's no choreographer, other than me of course, that can produce that. Only a well experienced idol with a history of dancing would be able to do that, and it just so happens to be you. Judging by what I saw, you used the original dance as a base. Then you developed it, adding moves you were aware and familiar with from previous choreographs, forming a well-built dance".

"Impressive." he clapped, still shocked.

"But may I ask why you asked me to develop it if you already were going to do so?" I asked curious.

"I'm not quite sure actually..." he looked at me expressionless "You just look so professional, I wanted to see if my assumptions were correct."

I nodded, "I see."

The sides of his lips rose, he was smiling "You look interesting."