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You didn't think you could have imagined a day when Lee Minho was holding your waist, but you didn't like it. And yet, here it was.
A live orchestra played softly as the two of you moved stiffly across the floor for your first - and perhaps last - dance.
They were playing an instrumental version of Talking to the Moon by Bruno Mars. You used to love that song when you were in middle school. It was all slow and melancholy, which was exactly what emotional pre-teen you had needed at the time.
Now, it felt like it was mocking you as those stupid wishful lyrics echoed through your head. You hadn't thought about this song in so long, but you used to listen it, thinking about Minho. What a tragedy.
You sighed quietly, turning your head as far away from Minho as was socially acceptable. It was clear that he didn't want to talk to you, it was probably better just to avoid the whole awkward staring thing.
Minho cleared his throat, softly enough not to attract attention. But of course you heard him. He must be feeling awkward too. As hard as you had hoped that things might have changed after yesterday, it was clear it hadn't. Again, foolish of you.
"Something in your throat?" You said through gritted teeth. You didn't want to sound angry or resentful, but you couldn't help it. You chanced a glance at him.
"No," Minho said bluntly. He still avoided your gaze.
You rolled your eyes, turning away again. Hopefully this dance would end soon and you would never have to be this close to him again.
You peered over Minho's shoulder at your friends, who all wore varying expressions of discomfort. JJ was grimacing at you, while Lanhua covered her eyes. Alaska was staring at you two like you were a car crash and she couldn't look away. Mya had a hand over her mouth and Riley's mouth was gaping open. Robin was cringing.
