(Y/N) POV:

The stranger leaves and it's only when he's disappeared from view do I tug the scrapbook back in curiosity, wander what final message he's left behind.

My lips tug into a wide smile when I read the words he's left behind, a message that is surprisingly more flustering that spending that entire period of time with him. He found me fun? When I hadn't even said a word? Not to mention, it wasn't the word I was expecting. Usually people who approached me had by far a very different range of vocabulary and fun wasn't one of them- not unless it was phrased in the context of 'wanting to get together to have fun' delivered with the slimiest expressions and lust-filled eyes. And then after that, his name and then nickname- a privilege for his friends, and now extended to me? Does that mean he considers me a friend?

A slight groan leaves my lips, why am I overthinking a message of all things? Why is it so confusing? Have I lost my ability at being adept on reading human emotions? Why does it take a kind, entrancing stranger who doesn't let silence faze him...to faze me and throw me off-balance.

"Kim Taehyung..." his name slips out of my mouth, rolling off my tongue with far more ease and fluidity than I'd accept. I like the way his name sounds, like how easy it is to say.

And then drop my head in exasperation.

Just why does that matter now?

Giving up, I place the book back onto the shelf and repack my bag. That's enough adventure for the day. This is the most human interaction I've done consecutively since the past...god knows how long it's been.

The sunlight has lessened slightly as I exit the library, breeze refreshing as it sifts through my hair and brushes across my face, gentle and oh-so-different to the usual salty air of our last place- this air is mixed with countless scents that intermingle, this air is starkly absent of the Ocean's presence. It's perfect.

Deciding to pick up pizza on the walk home is completely instantaneous and a spur of the moment decision but waiting for the pizzas to be made in a bright inviting space it seems isn't the best.

I can feel a few pair of eyes trained on me, from different sides and one or two heated gazes trained on my back and lower and it makes my skin crawl with revulsion, I fight the urge to ditch the pizzas and get out of here- the happy exclamations of joy that Habaek oppa and Mi-sun unnie had replied with makes me stick it out. Even if it feels like my skin is teeming with insects scuttling across.

The server behind the counter waves his hand to get my attention, gesturing to the two large boxes of pizza waiting at the side.

I hurry forward, smiling tightly and clutching those boxes tightly in front of me, escape the uncomfortable atmosphere- only breathing easily when I'm away from it all.

When we were remade as sirens, natural allure came with it, to help us be able to do our service well but that didn't mean that life became easier...it became difficult.

I burst into our home, brandishing the pizzas and yelling for the two of them to hurry wherever they may be and soon enough Habaek oppa comes eagerly bounding in and Mi-sun unnie rushes from upstairs, a bounce in her step and twinkle in her eye that I'm pretty sure doesn't relate to the joy of pizza.

No...this is her calculative, knowing smile.

The smile that has gotten me into situations I'd never agree to but find myself unfairly coerced to- she knows how to use my weak points against me, and as she grins around a bite of pizza, I can only fear what she's going to get me into this time.

----

"No! Absolutely not unnie...there's no way that I'm going along with your plans this time!" I say fixedly, crossing my arms and staying stiff as a board as she drapes herself around me, pecking my cheek lightly in a constant manner- trying to make me melt.

"But (Y/N)~ you didn't even hear where we're going!" she wheedles.

"We...there's no we in your plans unnie. I always get roped in for something silly and often traumatising. Not. This. Time." I say firmly, turning away to avoid seeing her famous puppy eyes, just knowing she'll have her bottom lip jutting out and an expression of a kicked, scolded puppy.

Come on. Don't do this unnie. Leave me be....I silently plea.

Habaek oppa is on the opposite couch looking torn between the strong urge to help me out, I can recall just how many times he's scolded her for recklessly dragging me along; cuddling me whilst glaring at her and struggling to hold his composure at my very weak attempts to resist.

"But I just want you to come for moral support this time. I don't want to see people dancing by myself. Come on baby, please..." she wheedles, arms wounding even tighter around me, pulling me into a forcible hug- swaying the two of us.

Wait. What? That sounds normal...not for unnie but for people in general. She just wants to take me to a performance?

Well why didn't she just say? I love watching people perform; seeing those moments where the stage and audience divide falls away and you're pulled into a crafted world- pulled into a story.

It's been ages since we've gone to watch a performance. So long that I find myself nodding eagerly.

"I love watching performances." I say, without turning to look over my shoulder and failing to meet eyes again with Habaek oppa, too lost in the idea of being entranced by dance.

----

Watching a performance isn't what I'd expected. It's not me leaning forward in my seat to look in awe at the costumed dancers who with such control and precision convey emotions. It turns out that Mi-sun unnie's definition of watching people dance is actually pushing me into a dance studio and signing not just herself up but me too- and I am too stunned and shocked to do anything more than desperately grab at her arms, trying to pull the hand filling in the details back.

And then unnie and I are being guided to a practice room that's large and spacious, a wall lined with mirrors and a group of people gathered as they stretch, the class size small enough that when we enter, curious eyes turn to look at us.

"These two have just signed up today and one of them were very eager to get right into it. The other one wants to just observe for today." The receptionist says warmly, gesturing to the two of us- well to unnie and where I hide behind her back even though she's only a few inches taller than me. I clench the fabric of her, very aptly chosen, top, trying to still my heart that has suddenly racketed up with nerves, feeling apprehensive and unwilling to step out from behind her.

"Come on in, don't be shy." A bright, encouraging voice calls- a voice that sounds like liquid sunshine and happiness, voice smooth and low- like warm tones of caramel. The voice is what causes me to slowly pop my head out from behind unnie, to try and find the owner of the voice. Said owner who is dressed in bright workout clothes and energetically beckoning with both of his hands and I note that his bright aura is what eases the tension, what influences the others perhaps to smile welcomingly at us. But even so, I remain behind her as she walks forward, eyes glancing and sliding away from the others.

"Why don't you introduce yourselves? The people around you are ones you'll be working very closely with as we learn different styles of dance." He says gesturing for us to take his spot- stepping away with a casual grin.

"I'm Mi-sun, 26 years old." Unnie says, waving slightly, and I can hear from her tone that the smile she'll be sporting is part playful, part sweet.

The man in the bright workout clothes leans forward to say in a low tone.

"Don't be shy. They don't bite." He says, words seeking to reassure but his sudden close proximity and the way his warm breath ghosts across my cheek and my ear sends a shiver through my body and I unconsciously shift, voice inviting and urging me to lean close whilst rationally my body puts that distance between us. But even as Mi-sun unnie steps aside, she doesn't force me to speak.

Even if unnie is playful like this, she has never pushes or tries to force me for certain boundaries and limitations I have.

"And this is (Y/N), 22 years old." She introduces but I muster up the courage to do a weak wave of my hand.

Thankfully, the lesson progresses past that mortifying moment and soon enough the owner of the sweet deep voice introduces himself as Jung Hoseok, or Hobi as he says prefer being called, and tells us to find a spot for ourselves before he begins introducing the basics of a dance we'll be learning.

It's easy enough to find a corner to sit down in, knees drawn up to my chest, head resting on my arms as I silently watch, see different bodies come together to learn the first count of eight. Everyone has a distinctive touch, an unconscious way of moving that marks the moves as slightly different. Mi-sun unnie has also taken to the back row, because this way I can see her shoot me bright smiles paired with knowing eyes. Because she did this on purpose, she knew that dancing would help me communicate with others in a way speaking couldn't. She'd given me another way to connect with the world- and frankly I was both impressed and touched by her sneaky tactics.

When Hoseok, or Hobi, performs the next count of 8 with this one I watch in silent awe as his body fluidly transitions from move to move, nothing but smooth grace as he controls his body- powerful moves that convey the thick cloud of emotions the song is about. He doesn't just dance, he becomes it. And when he teaches his voice is nothing but a nice balance of gentle and firm- guiding all of the people through each move, calling out improvements in a manner that isn't embarrassing for the person. I train my eyes on his choreography, committing the way his body moves to muscle memory so I can practice later in the privacy of my own space.

One-foot taps along to the beat, to his steady counting, the way he seems to prefer uttering a sound to represent each move, eyes bright and burning with passion for doing what he so very clearly loves doing. And his eyes are dark and carefully examining each person, noting each movement but I don't mistake when his eyes meet my own, demanding and anchoring mine to his with a silent thrum of power even with all this distance between us.

And when lesson is over, and he calls both of us over- I can't help but silently take in the way there's a slight sheen to his skin, that only adds to make it glow- proof and testament to his word work, the way his hair is pushed back by a headband- exposing a strong forehead, features which are extremely masculine- bold features that naturally exude this sense of silent dominance but when he smiles, that's replaced with a beaming heart-shaped smile and a creasing of his eyes as he flashes us a toothy smile. My eyes accidentally linger to shifting muscles when he reaches to dab a towel at his skin, seeing the tight toned arms, my eyes slide away ashamed; feeling so utterly hopeless and slightly guilty at my silent gawping.

"I hope next week I can see you dance too. Something tells me you'll be a natural." He says to me, voice warm.

I look at him confused. How can he assert that from someone who didn't even move from the corner?

"You have this sort of innate natural grace; I can see it in the way you move and walk." He adds, eyes observant.

I'm both surprised and then an inkling of self-resentment. Of course there'd be something about natural grace...after all sirens are meant to be alluring and entrancing in every physical way.

But the way Hoseok says it, with an almost marvelled expression- makes me slightly less bitter about it, soothes away the sting with the caramel warmth of his voice.

So I shoot him a small smile, but it only tugs upwards when he beams in response- as if he's reaching in to draw happiness out of me.

"We'll see you next lesson then Hoseok-ssi." Mi-sun unnie cuts in, breaking the silent exchange of thoughts in brewing eyes.

I dip my head towards him.

"I look forward to it." He says, eyes never wavering off me.

HOBI POV:

Getting new dancers joining us is always a source of personal happiness for me, because it means that I can share my love and passion with more people.

What I don't expect is for a woman with a powerful aura and an untouchable sense of intimidating beauty to come sweeping in, posture tall and straight. I spot a few interested glances towards her, some bordering on awe and daze. But whilst she is exceptionally powerful in her presence alone, the shy person behind her who emerges is the one who snags my attention. Where from behind this tall, almost aloof figure appears first wide, deep eyes and when she finally comes closer to where I'm standing, I see thick dark lashes curling upwards and the bottom ones resting on delicate, high cheekbones and a shy flush on her full cheeks, eyes trailing down to spot rosy lips that twist with nerves.

It's almost an urge to lean forward and reassure her, something about the slightly distraught, panicky expression compelling me to remove it, to see the slight furrow in her brows smoothen out.

"Don't be shy. They don't bite." I say, hoping that those words comfort her. Her entire posture and curved in demeanour is one I've seen Kookie in, one I recognised in a heartbeat. And I hoped that it would give her the courage to speak, to reveal the voice that goes with the naturally beautiful features, but she doesn't even part those lips. Just lets her be introduced and silently trails to the back, body folding to sink to the ground, legs drawn towards her with a natural poise, the mundane act somehow different when she did it.

I note wide observant eyes carefully taking in the moves, everyone's execution of them- but they're not filled with judgement but more of a careful and then amazed glint in her eyes. I see a slender foot tap in time to the beat, to my counting down- synced with it, I can tell without her speaking that she's drawn in.

And when she draws close, I'm pleased to note that she doesn't duck behind the other woman, maybe it's a matter of being shy when under numerous eyes- I store the information for later. 

And it's an automatic outpour of words of how I hope to see her dance, that innate belief that she has the ability to flawlessly execute the moves, the dancer in me eager to find and draw out the dancer in her.

And though our interaction ends without a single sound being expressed with those rosy lips, I find myself strangely tugged towards her. A curiosity that wants to be satisfied.

But then my phone starts ringing, Jimin's name flashing up on the screen.

"Hi hyung! Sorry for not being there to help today..." his sweet voice comes through, heavy with apology.

"It's okay baby. You couldn't say no to Yoongi hyung, he rarely does ask for favours." I reassure.

He sighs, appeased.

"Hyung when are you coming home? Jin hyung's nearly finished with dinner!" he chirps.

"Soon baby! Can't wait to catch up with everyone over dinner." I say.

The phone ends.

And as I drive home, I think back to the silent, watching girl. (Y/N). It had a nice ring to it, rolling off my tongue when I suddenly said it aloud in the confines of my car. And then shake my head.

Why did I call her name?

She would spark curiosity in the others if I brought her up at the dinner table.

But oddly enough as we sit down and chat over food, her name sits unspoken on my lips. And I find myself unwilling to divulge the way she'd come in and intrigued me.

Because it's just curiosity. And a desire to know more first.

That's it.

(THERE YOU GO! HOBI AS A DANCE INSTRUCTOR- OOF! I THINK YOU ALL KNOW WHAT SORT OF INTENSE LOOK HE GETS WHEN HE'S IN TEACHER MODE BUT THAT'LL APPEAR WHEN HE DRIVES THEM TO EXECUTE THOSE MOVES WITH SHARP PRECISION! SHOULD SHE STAY ON TO LEARN DANCING OR NOT? LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS...AND EVEN THOUGH MI-SUN SEEMS TO PUSH HER OUT OF HER COMFORT ZONE, SHE ALSO KNOWS JUST HOW FAR SHE CAN PUSH AND NUDGE- CENTURIES OF LIVING TOGETHER HAS TAUGHT HER AFTER ALL! HOW WAS IT? WAS IT DISAPPOINTING COMPARED TO THE OTHER TWO? I SURE HOPE NOT! IMMA HIDE NOW! STAY SAFE LOVES!)

THANK YOU FOR THE 1K+ READS ALREADY!! YOUR SUPPORT IS AMAZING MY LOVES, THANK YOU!!

QUESTION...WHO SHOULD BE THE NEXT MEMBER?

My thought is...hmm~ I'll stay silent!

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3