Honey Daisy ✭ KTH [м]

ᴛʀʏ ᴍᴇ

╰ ☆☆☆☆ ╮

 
You sighed heavily, feeling the moisture in the air greeting your nose. The smell of fresh, wet grass made you feel relaxed.

You observed silently as the raindrops bounced on top of the stream of water that wafted past the rocky mount you sat upon. 

You glanced at your bare feet, the sensitive skin almost back to normal from the last practice session with your mother.

Since your father was coming back into town in a couple of days, your mother halted rehearsals. You were more than relieved to hear such news. 

The small radio you lugged around played in the trees, placed underneath a towel to keep dry. You swayed back and forth with your eyes closed, feeling the rhythm of the music drifting through your veins. 

You stood up, your hair clinging to your back and face from the soft raindrops. Your yellow sundress clung to your silhouette, framing your curves as you moved. 

Bending your knees, you lifted yourself off the ground as you jumped from one leg, landing on both of your feet. Your face tensed when you pirouetted, spinning on your toes and pushing your leg around in the air for momentum. 

Digging your toes into the wet grass, you grinned.

If your mother saw you, she would complain. You were appointed as one of the best dancers in the ballet academy. However, your mother took you out of school to teach you in her way. 

"If you're the best, then they must have low standards," she told you at sixteen. 

Walking to the river's edge, you stuck your feet in the water, not caring that the bottom of your dress became soaked. 

"You're going to catch a cold," Taehyung spoke out from the trees behind you. 

You held your smile, picturing him leaning his shoulder against a trunk. When you turned around, he was doing exactly that.

You wondered how long he was standing there; if he had seen you dance and stood quiet. 

Water droplets fell from the dark strands of his hair, his shirt sticking to the muscles of his torso. You tried not to focus on how the black shirt provided you with great detail of his body. 

"Maybe, but," you spoke softly, "I'm stronger than I look." 

The corner of his mouth lifted, reaching his eyes. The expression on his face was soft.

Standing by the stream, it was the first time in days he didn't avoid you. He confused you more than anything, but you figured his stand-offish behavior was because of your parents.