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okay so listenā iāve been dancing since i was like, what, six? but it was always urban stuff, you know? hip-hop, reggaeton, that kinda vibe. and then i decided to take contemporary ācause i wanted to like⦠change or whatever. biggest mistake-slash-best decision ever ācause thatās when i met harper.
and bro, harperās a ballet dancer. like full-on ballerina, graceful as hell, perfect posture, bun tighter than my will to live. and i see her and iām like āoh fuck. sheās cute.". sheās got that long light brown hair with little blonde bits and these green. Then i foundĀ out sheās american. doesnāt speak spanish. i donāt speak english. wellā okay, i write it, but i sound like google translate having a breakdown when i try to say anything. so yeah, i used that as an excuse to not talk to her. for four. fucking. months.
we just smiled and waved like awkward penguins. sometimes tried to say āhiā in each otherās language and failed miserably.
then the teacher goes, āpair up for contact dance!ā and obviously, itās us. itās always us ācause weāre the youngest in the class. and oh my god, bro, i almost passed out. we had no clue how to talk, the teacher kept saying āconnect with your partner,ā and iām like girl iām trying but my brainās
Suffering over these green eyes!!
then she smiled at meā like really smiledā and i was gone. like, head over heels, no coming back. then she complimented my eyes?? i literally died, saw heaven, and came back mid-dance combo.
a few days later, weāre practicing the big choreography and thereās this part where someone has to lift her. she picks me. ME. and obviously i said yes ācause i have no self-control and im a simp, and we ended up practicing together a lot after that. and thenā okay listen to thisā one day she just⦠looks at me, grabs this little folded paper from her bag, and hands it to me. i open it, and itās her number. bro. her NUMBER.
so we start texting through google translate, which is actually kinda adorable.