Bulletproof girl scouts

SIN

Nara is sin.

I come to terms with that fact when I witness her dance. Not the waltz with Jimin; not entirely. The cardigan she wore over the white turtleneck is now draped over the back of a chair from when she removed it, her cap dangling off the side. The pleated beige knee-length skirt twirls in one direction and the next in a matter of seconds, flying with her movements to reveal the length of her legs clad in a pair of black slacks. I have no idea when she kicked of her sneakers, balancing her form on the tips of her toes, tinted pink because of the sheer fabric of her socks. Her eyes are closed as she moves with the music, too fast for my eyes to follow. Her arms still when the song nears the bridge and she rotates her neck, the rubber band coming loose and slipping free of her jet black tresses when she whips around. The rest of us audience move farther away to provide space as she continues to fly, claiming the spotlight with bigger moves in a trance induced state. It is like watching a ritual to Artemis and I am bewitched by the beauty. It reminds me of Demian; the muse to his thoughts. As of this moment Lee Nara is the embodiment of sensual desire while her personality doesn't allow her to show an inch of skin.

The realms of day and night, two different worlds coming from different poles, mingled during this time.

She slows when the music does, a few raven strands sticking to her face. She bends backwards from the waist. It is a sudden drop, eliciting a number of gasps as my already slackened jaw inches closer to the floor. Her arms rise from her sides in uniformity, slender fingers reaching out to the skies, catching at empty air. It is a desperate motion and I can feel a heaviness press down on my chest. She sways and panic rushes through my system, feet already advancing to break her fall.
The song ends.
And she falls.
I realise late that she didn't want to be caught.
Her knees buckle but it wasn't unintentional and she falls forward, doubling over as her knees meet the floor with a resounding thud. Her hair goes from dangling down her head to falling in front of her face in whip-like motion, spilling onto the floor. Half her face is veiled as her shoulders shake heavily, trembling with every intake of breath. Her hands are placed in front of her chest, palms caved in prayer. Slowly, she overlaps them, bringing them closer till they rest above her bosom. A small smile graces her lips and she lifts her eyelids.

Our eyes meet, knocking the breath out of me.
Seconds felt like hours as she turned to mush my entire existence with those hooded eyes, glistening with a slight wetness. And that smile. God, that smile....

There is a loud applause as everyone claps at her performance. She drops her lids, focusing on her breathing as her smile widens. Her members rush forward, bombarding her with a horde of questions and I notice how small tears dribble down their cheeks. Why were they crying, I wonder. There is a gasp and only then do I realise that Jimin was standing next to me the entire time. He points to my face, giggling.
"Hyung", he said teasingly, "why are you crying?"

My vision blurred when I blinked, confirming what he said. I used my fingers to wipe the wetness away, not bothering to answer. He giggled some more and stopped when the choreographer called out to him.
"Dae? Of course! Here...", Jimin unlocked his phone and handed it over.

"...one moment", the choreographer was connecting it to his PC. Of course, I mentally rolled my eyes. What would Park Jimin be if not a human camcorder? It's just the choreographer's luck that Jimin had his wits about when the new version was playing and Nara started to dance out of the blue.
I lingered for a while, watching the girl as she combed her fingers through her hair, the rubber band caught between her teeth. I tried not to think of why my eyes welled up with tears without me knowing, leaving the practice room and going up to my studio. I tried repeatedly, sulking in my chair upon failing again.

I am attracted, an undeniable truth.

I am utterly and completely smitten and it scares me.

Jimin had asked Hoseok earlier in the practice room, of what he meant when he called him 'inconsiderate'. Hoseok had laughed, sending me a suggestive look from where we sat together, "it's because Namjoon here", he snickered, "was giving you the stink eye and I thought you were hurting his feelings"

Jimin had whistled at that, raising his brows. Both of them began to laugh their asses off as I sat in meditation, chanting in my head that murder is illegal. I am brought out of my thoughts at the sound of my phone ringing. I pick it up from the desk, looking at the caller ID.

I groan as I swipe accept.

SIN

The award winning roommate. The most favourite roommate of armys. The most annoying roommate ever.
I sigh, a little frustated as Jin-hyung demands multiple explanations of me through the phone. Yoongi-hyung was suspicious of Nara's mental health, I understand. But did he just have to blab to his roomie? Now I'm stuck with a cross Jin in his eomma mode. The worst part being that he is absolutely convinced that I have knowledge on the subject. I keep on denying till his repeated accusations of her having multiple mental disorders starts to piss me off.
"I don't think It's a personality disorder, hyung"

"you're not taking this seriously, Joon-ah. She needs therapy. Should I talk to her?"

"What? No! That's just making matters worse. You know what? Nightmares. She gets nightmares. There! I said it"

"See?", he chirped, "that wasn't so hard now was it?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

"I told you it was nothing serious", I said wearily.

"We can forego therapy if it's just a case of nightmares. I was worrying for no reason"

"......I've said that about ten times already"

"You should regulate your sleep too. Don't work late today. Come home to sleep"

I hummed and said goodbye before ending the call. When I opened the door to leave, however, there was a person waiting for me. Slouching against the wall of the narrow corridor, one leg propped up, raven hair cropped short and tinted green at the edges, one hand crossed on her chest as she surveyed her manicured nails.

"Oh!", I exclaimed in surprise. How long was she standing there? "Good evening"

"Evenin'", she replied nonchalantly, seemingly more interested in her nails. I cleared my throat. She pushed her weight off the wall and straightened up, flicking her bangs to the side and stuffing her hands in the pockets of her cargo pants. She regarded me with a cool look through those tiny slits, looking me up and down once before cocking her head to the side. I was pissed, to say the least.

"A word?", she demands rather than asks and it takes all of my willpower to step aside.

"Sure. Come on in"

She steps in and looks around. I catch the nasty twist of her lips as I close the door. She squints her eyes at the decor and I take deep steady breaths as I gesture with my hand to take a seat.

Deep breaths.

"So....", I trail off, propping my elbows on my knees and rubbing my palms together. I look at her expectantly and she crosses one leg over the other in a relaxed manner. The vibe rolling off of her is arrogant and I don't like it one bit. She doesn't miss a beat as she makes her statement,

"Stay away from Nara"

I rose my brows, matching the undaunting stare with which she regarded me.

Well, well, well....