Pretty | Yoonmin (DISCONTINUED)

thirty six

above is the song that jimin dances to!
(((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))

"I, uh..." Jimin's words trailed, tinged with uncertainty just as his delicate features were contorted with a very slight hesitance, a small, lingering fear. "I choreographed this dance with Hoseok hyung...my friend from home, I don't know if you remember..."

His tiny fingers fiddled with the knobs of the stereo in the corner of the dance studio, fumbling a bit with the shock of nerves, just as his voice had begun to stumble a little at the realization of what he was truly about to do. Yoongi didn't mind his reluctance, even in spite of his previously confident words. Even with anxiety beginning to paint small shadows over the plains of his face, Jimin still looked joyous, slight with some deep exhilaration that turned his skin to flowing gold and his eyes to shimmering mahogany. His limbs had begun to twitch in expectation of the long awaited movements that the younger had so dearly missed, his lips gauging at each other, tasting every slow drawl of a word with restless excitement. And the excitement was contagious. Just as contagious as Jimin's sunshine smile, or his shimmering butterscotch giggles, or his quick motions when ever he grew too fidgety and ecstatic to stay still. And it wasn't long before Yoongi was twitching a little too from his place by the far wall, eyes pinned on the boy across the room.

"We worked really hard on it. You're the first person I'm showing it to. And it would probably look better with Hobi here, but since he's not...um...well..."

I'd be happy to see it Minnie. Yoongi cut him off, his signing a little lethargic with mental exhaustion, gentle and fluttering. Jimin's azalea lips quirked gratefully.

"Okay."

And so, with one last twist of the stereo knob, the music flowed freely from the speakers, resounding through the padded room so fiercely and smoothly that Yoongi felt its thrum in the floor beneath him. Jimin was moving before he could think, fitting immediately into his carefully crafted character, as though its idea had been lingering in his head, prepared for the moment the first note played. His lips scrunched in distress, a gorgeous, desperate part to them, sucking in a harsh, pleading breath. He dashed about the room in a flurry of swift limbs, lithe arms and legs that curved like water along the hardwood. And yet, despite the elegant wildness if his manner, he made no sound, a silent wave moving with fervor over an expanse of space.

It was addictive to watch.

"I'm a fool to want you..."

It was an english song. An english song drawled in cobalt tones of deep sorrow, yet stained with the striking vermillion passion of determined, resented love. And it didn't matter what language it was in. The way Jimin's irises fixated upon an invisible point, caramel brows tangling with shadows and raging with emotion said it all. His leg circled from his slim hip with every azure word, a limp hand dragging over his stomach, his chest. 

"I'm a fool to want you..."

The spiral of his plush, slender body travelled to his hips, and his other hand drew another path along his torso.

"To want a love that can't be true..."

One foot lifted into a still relevé, even with the strain on his muscles as he reached out, brows knotting in dark anguish.

"A love that's there for others too."

A turn on the ball of his foot that turned him to uncontainable wind for a moment. With every pant of pained breath and every twist of his lips, he turned the air around him to aching blue and deep, hurting mauve.