You Were My Love

Scene 78 - Green

He opened the door to their place and frowned.

Dark.

Despite the late hour.

No light.

Anywhere.

It meant Jimin still wasn't back home.

Unusual.

But he should be there any minute now.

Rehearsals rarely lasted that long.

Hae Wong casually threw his jacket on the sofa and strode with his briefcase to his computer.

He took a padded envelope out of it.

I was so flat and light it seemed empty.

He seemed to know exactly what he was doing when he briskly tore it open in one go and held it upside down, shaking its contents out of it.

A small SD card fell on his desk.

He glanced at the entrance, checking for any door move.

When he had stated the calm atmosphere, he inserted the memory card in the slot.

Once the file was clicked open and photo folders appeared, he took a hold of his smartphone and shortly texted.

"Report received."

His gaze returned to the larger screen where soon photos were fully displayed.

As though it were a very slow motion movie, the pictures showed step by step, move by move, hours and hours of the same person's days.

He quickly flicked through the dozens of photos, but his finger's clicks suddenly slowed down.

Hae Wong's eyes narrowed as he could now recognize the artists' entrance to the theater.

He was wrapped up in his coat and carried his sports bag on his shoulder.

Hae Wong skipped forward to images in which Jimin was warming up and checking his phone with a sad face – probably missing his prince, and Hae Wong smiled proudly.

Then Jimin was dancing.

He was always focused and he invested fully in his task, his eyes glimmering with the intensity of his involvement.

The blonde's lips unconsciously stretched to a soft, loving smile.

His angel was so graceful.

And soft. And cute. His moves were so pure.

Each and every one of them.

They were faultless.

HE was faultless.

A perfect, holy angel, and all the photos had captured it.

His skin was glowing.

And as the pictures progressively showed later instants, little by little, it shimmered more and more with hundreds of droplets of his holy honey.

His fluffy, soft hair step by step got flatter, wetter, until they matted on his temples and his forehead.

His appealing plump lips were parted as it became obvious from the images that he was panting, his skin glistening in alluring glimmers.

And suddenly Hae Wong's fond smile faded in a second and was replaced with a deep scowl.

Now that his angel was all hot and wet from his hard practice, his clothes sticking to his body, and his skin literally glittering with shimmers of sweat, he could see the stares of the other dancers in the background, that were caught on the camera's "film."