"Mom. I'm not feeling to go to dance classes today. I think I'm sick."
"Honey, you said that last week, and the doctor said you were fine. Come on! You're going."
I love dance. I have always looked forward to it until we my teacher left and we got a new one. He is: 1.Rude. 2.Conceited. 3.PICKS ON ME. 4.Touches my thighs too much.
"Have a good day honey. Don't give the teacher too much trouble. Because he complained last time." She drove off.
Wait! He complaint? Oh no the hell he didn't.
I barged through the doors into his studio. I didn't care that he was practicing. I pulled the plug right out from the socket.
He shifted his eyes to his favorite student (a.k.a me) in the mirror.
"Mrs.Y/N. You came early. You could've just stopped the music you know." The bastard speaks.
"Don't be a smartass Hoseok. Why did complain about me?"
He finally gave me his full attention by turning to face me. He dragged his sore dancer feet across to my direction, smirk growing wider as our distance closed.
He is doing the thing again, making me uncomfortable.
"Yes I complained about you." He seductively swept his red hair away from his view so he could fully see the fright on my face.
He was about an inch away from me when he placed both his hands at my sides trapping me in between against the wall.
He placed his lips dangerously close to my ears. His breath tickled my eardrum."You have a problem with that?"
Yes idiot.
"No." I gulped, which he heard and smirked at.
I watched helplessly as he eyed the skin on my neck.
I know that look.
He playfully slid a little of my skin between his teeth then released before it left a mark.
"Good. Get ready. It's 8:30. Dance class is starting."
He unpinned me.
WWYD?
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