𝗍𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗒 𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍

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𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍

The moment he set foot in the practice room, Jimin felt as if someone had slapped him across his face with a brick, his heart clenching in pain when the torturing memories he had more or less successfully managed to suppress surged up again, reminding him of all he had lost. Whatever the girl was telling him, it blurred out into white noise as the emotions violently ran him over like a truck, his chest so tight that he felt like suffocating, making a little gasp tear from his throat as he desperately tried to get some air into his lungs.

A small practice room with a mirrored wall and a loudspeaker sitting in the corner, that was enough to send his world crashing down once again, tearing his self-control away and leaving him to stand there weakly with wide, almost terrified eyes. The room was furnished very sparsely, its simplicity somehow reminding him of the rooms in which the dance lessons of his early childhood had taken place. Back then, when his passion had still been lively burning in him, feeding him with energy and excitement, when he had gotten to know and learn about his talent, enforcing it by practicing daily. 

Everything in the dance studio basically screamed passion, seeming to welcome him with open arms in the heartbreakingly familiar atmosphere. But at the same time, he felt left out and distant, as though he weren't even allowed in the room, prohibited to enter such a sacred place where dreams turned into reality, where fire was supposed to fervently burn in him and devour him until music and movement were everything left he felt, everything he existed for. 

But despite the way everything he felt inside of him was coldness, this room– this little dance studio in the middle of nowhere– most likely was the only possibility for him to regain his passion. He could only hope that his loss of fervor for the one thing that had defined his life for a long time was still curable.

"Jimin," a soft voice suddenly cut through his bugging thoughts, making his head immediately snap around at the mention of his name, his dark eyes locking with the brown ones of the girl (and yes, he actually didn't care enough about her to remember her name). Blinking to come back to his senses, Jimin immediately reinforced the wall he had built around his heart, hiding his troubled emotions behind the protective barrier as his gaze sharpened until it had returned to the ice-cold glare he always wore when he looked at the girl. To his discontent, she didn't seem to be intimidated by his attempt to keep her distant as she reciprocated his harsh stare with soft, pondering eyes, making a wave of insecureness surge through him.

Desperate to distract her and diverge her attention from himself, he groaned a "What are you waiting for?" while carelessly throwing his plastic bag in the corner of the room, mockingly staring her down and cocking up an eyebrow when she didn't move.

Finally, she averted her eyes from him, calmly walking towards the speaker and connecting her phone to it, almost making him breathe out a relieved sigh as it seemed like she wouldn't pester anymore for now.

BLACK SWAN||PJM||Where stories live. Discover now