One-Shots | Dahmo

Nine To Two (1)

( 1 / 2 )

Why are you always so far away?

The odds should be in my favor, but they aren't.

I can see you moving, but you can't see me.

Until the room clears.

And it's just us two.

I'm not sure where everyone else went.

But I don't care.

Nine quickly turns into two.

Our eyes meet for the first time since last night. We didn't even look each other in the eyes this morning when we awoke next to each other.

I could tell we both replayed last night's events in our minds.

The party.

The drinking.

The first kiss.

And the many that followed . . .

At first, you just turn the music back on. We practice the rigorous choreography, but it's not long before I'm mesmerized by your movements again, and my feet pull me out of position and over to you.

My hand "accidentally" brushes dangerously close to your hand.

You jump away from my touch.

The music stops.

And suddenly, the room is empty.

It's just us alone floating in a black void of emotion.

It feels like a movie.

"We can't be doing this, Momo, and you know it. It's wrong."

I sigh. "If it's wrong, then why does it feel so good? Huh, Dubu?"

You turn away, and I can tell you're trying to forget the things we did last night.

But you can't.

You turn back and run your hand up over my cheek and in my hair.

Our lips connect.

The lights of the room come crashing back into my eyes.

The seven other girls line to room we stand in, staring in disbelief.

And the music starts again.