Obsession (Jimin FF) ✔

Just A Bit

JIMIN POV

I was sitting in dance class, stretching on the floor, when a pair of legs in yellow tights, of all colors, came and stood in front of me. I followed the hideous color up leading me to a skirt entirely too short, swaying as the girl wearing it twisted from side to side in front of me in a very shy manner. Removing one of her hands from behind her back, she pushed her blu-ish hair off her shoulder and to the side. I smiled at her only because the blue of her hair reminded me of the hue of bruises I usually leave on (Y/N)’s body. 

I supposed she took it as an invitation because she smiled back and said Hello.

“Hi, I’m Davina,” she said nervously still swaying in front of me.

Just being cordial, I respond, “And I’m...”

“Park Jimin,” she quickly interrupted me making me raise a brow as well as my temper, just a bit. 

She cowered some as she realized her urgent answer. “Um, I watched you dance and asked around. I think your moves are amazing.”

Oh, she was a fan! Well, to her, I could be nice. I always appreciated the support. 

“Why, thank you,” I finally responded to her praises. “Are you a beginner, here?,” I asked being as how I had never seen her before. Maybe I had inspired her to become a dancer. 

“Y-Yeah,” she stuttered out and I found that I had begun to really enjoy her awkward shyness. I patted the seat beside me as the dance instructor came in and began the actual stretch routine and she eagerly set next to me, submissive and obedient. 

“Wow, that was intense,” the pale, blue haired girl Davina ran up to me and exclaimed while wiping the sweat off her neck and cleavage after a few warm ups. I had to laugh at her because as I novice, I knew we were nowhere near done. Still, I indulged in her naivete and grabbed her a bottle of water out of our cooler. She happily accepted it, quickly popping the top and guzzling the liquid down in big, loud gulps, excess spilling down the corners of her mouth. 

I admit, I watched water mixing in with the sweat around her neck and cleavage. She was an attractive young girl. 

After downing about three/fourths of the bottle, she pulled her lips away covered her mouth to burp, quickly saying ‘excuse me.’ It was cute, and I hated that I found it so. 

“You know that was just a warm up right? The real shit starts now,” I informed her as the instructor began playing music for the complicated routine. Her face fell and I jogged away from her laughing again before quickly taking my place in front of the mirror with the instructor. We had choreographed this piece together and I held no punches on my end. Music and dance were my life. So when the song began, so did my heart. 

This routine was full of flips and sways and jumps and twist of our bodies in unnatural ways. Graceful thrusts, flying kicks, and timing that had to be perfect consume my body as I let the melodies take me over, forgetting and letting go of everything. By the time it’s over, I’mcovered in sweat and my limbs burn from how hard I pushed myself along with the class as we practiced the piece over and over again. 

As I grab myself a bottle of water and a towel to dry, my eyes fall again to the new girl. She wasn’t even standing straight up, her hands on her knees as she bent down trying to catch her breath. The sweat that had so cutely clung to her skin before was now drenched into her clothes and falling down to the floor in buckets beneath her. 

Again I laughed as she looked up at me and tried to smile through her pain. Where did this girl come from? Why was she here really? She was definitely a real beginner. Probably had never even thought about dancing until she saw me. Then she somehow ends up in my dance class? With people who have been dancing their entire highschool career, or like in my case, their whole lives?