Wasted Love

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"I think I know what keeps tripping you up, " Hoseok murmurs thoughtfully.

I sit beside him upon the floor, dabbing away at the sweat that climbs to me with a small towel.

"Yeah?" I inquire, nearly breathless.

I've been practicing for two hours now while Hoseok watches. More than once I've stumbled under his dark gaze. Thankfully, for the most part, he's been mercifully silent.

"Yeah, " he replies, grinning toothily.

He shimmies around and scoots until his knees touch mine. Reaching forward, he takes my hands in his own, and the amused light in his eyes fade. My body stiffens at how serious the situation has suddenly become, and I have a hard time looking him in the eye.

"You're too hard on yourself, " he tells me seriously. "You second guess yourself way too much. So much, in fact, that you're not feeling anything but anxiety. You can't connect to the music."

"Sure, " I reply softly. "Makes sense."

And I have to admit that it does. Dance just hasn't been the same for me since Jeremy. No matter what I do, I simply can't seem to be good enough, but maybe that problem stems from elsewhere.

I've never been good enough, in anything really.

From my parents, I'd received massive amounts of scrutiny, and too many expectations to live up to. A perfect daughter ought to be this way, or that. She should be quiet, and meek. She should always look her best, should always be on her best behaviour.

And her head certainly should remain firmly attached to her shoulders. Nothing was worse to my parents than my tendency to live with "my head in the clouds".

At school I consistently faced pressure from all sides. I was too pretty to be friends with the other girls, and too rich to be looked upon kindly by those who's parents toiled for less.

No matter how you look at it, I was alone. Forced into a league of my own by those around me, those who simply assumed that I believed myself better.

And my quiet nature didn't help matters at all.

But when I was with Jeremy, all of that faded away. He was the first person that ever made me feel worthy, and I begin to curl into myself mentally as I recall just how it all began.

His happy go lucky attitude and lack of care for the status quo had surprised me at first. And from that surprise had sprouted a sort of once in a lifetime love. I admired the way he chose his own path, despite his poorer upbringing, and the bravery with which he faced the world.

He'd loved dance too.

It was how we'd met, actually. My parents had actually been rather encouraging of my wish to practice dance, back when it was merely a past time. In their eyes, it could only be advantageous for a young lady to learn something like ballet. It would make me refined, they believed. They hadn't counted on their well-bred daughter being paired with a boy capable or daring enough to steal her heart.

And that support died the moment I told them I wanted to do it for a living.

Oh, how furious they'd been. I can still remember how my father had shook with fury, can still feel the spittle from his over enthusiastic screaming. He'd gotten right in my face, and for the first time that I could remember, he'd struck me too. But I didn't care. Dancing with Jeremy, spending time with him, was a whole level of something I'd never experienced before.

Euphoria.

Hoseok grabs my chin gently, and it is only as he does that I realize my gaze has shifted ever downwards.

"Look at me, " he murmurs softly.

And how could I not?

His onyx gaze pierces me, and I am completely unable to look away yet again.

"Stop doing that, " he tells me gently, eyes crinkled and mouth fully upturned in a display of brilliant joy.

I've never had one smile steal my breath away like this. It's so bright, and so pure, that it almost hurts. And as he continues to gaze upon me softly, this moment is etched into my mind eternally. Forever after, when I remember this moment, I can already imagine that it will be as vivid as the very day it transpired. I am transfixed.

"Doing what?"

It is nearly a whisper, and I barely recognize my own voice.

"Thinking, " he replies.

Suddenly his face is inches from my own, and I am assaulted once again by the smell of spice and citrus. His gaze, so intense that it seems as if time altogether has stopped flowing, continues to hold me in place, even as his breath mingles with mine.

For a moment, I am certain he will kiss me. And a tormented part of me wishes that he would. I watch, wide eyed and waiting, as he descends the fraction of a distance between us.

But then, at the last moment, his smile recedes, and he turns away. My breath rushes to escape from my lungs, all of the pent up air whooshing from within as if I've been sucker punched in the gut.

I feel a strange combination of relief and disappointment. And finally, it clicks into place.

The reason why Hoseok makes me so uncomfortable, and the reason that I wanted him to kiss me.

I like him.

My moment of realization is interrupted by a flurry of movement as Hoseok quickly retreats back into his own personal space. He scampers back to his feet, and hurriedly grabs his things.

I can see the way his hands shake, despite the way he attempts to hide it, and despair at the words that next leaves his mouth.

"I uh, " he stammers awkwardly. "I should go."

I am left shell shocked, sitting on the floor with a blank expression as I attempt to process everything that is happening. Hoseok veritably flees, as if the devil himself were on his heels.