Archive of Our Own ^beta

I feel satisfaction pulse through every step. My heartbeat thunders in my ears like a drum, and the sweat slides down the sides of my face like warm, tiny rivers. With my eyes closed, everything becomes clearer: every turn is a breath from my body, every movement of my feet a whisper of life. I feel light. Free. Alive.

When I finish the choreography, still with my eyes shut, a dense silence wraps around me… until I hear clapping. A shiver runs up the back of my neck. I slowly open my eyes and, through the mirror’s reflection, I feel something much stronger than surprise: love. It hits me like a silent avalanche, swallowing me whole. My heart accelerates, as if it recognized a home long before my mind could understand. And when our eyes meet, the feeling of “home” simply… settles in.

“You scared me,” I say with a timid smile. “It’s late… what are you doing here? I thought you had left.”

“I came to take you home,” he replies, his voice soft. “But when I saw you dancing… I didn’t have the heart to interrupt. I just stayed there… watching.”

“I’m done now. And you never bother me, silly.”

He laughs quietly, looking away as if hiding his own emotions.
“You’re so talented… Every time I see you dance, I fall in love a little more.”

My face burns. I look down.
“Don’t say that… It wasn’t even that good. I still have a lot to improve.”

He steps closer—calm, steady.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Minho. You were… flying. I felt your passion from here. I felt the anger… the strength… the intensity in every step. What happened, love? This isn’t you. You’ve always been so confident in your dance.”

The answer gets stuck in my throat.

“I don’t know… I woke up with that feeling of not being good enough, you know? And… you weren’t with me this morning. Everything just kept falling apart through the day. Little by little.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He walks to me like he knows exactly where he needs to be. His arms wrap around me—strong, gentle—and suddenly, the weight of the world feels smaller. Much smaller.

“You could’ve called me,” he whispers near my ear. “I’m your support. Your harbor. Remember? I’m here for that. I love you… even in these moments.”

I close my eyes again. This time… there’s no dance. The calm comes from him—from his embrace, from the warmth, from the feeling of belonging. Only the soft silence of a heart finding shelter.

“Thank you for making the burdens of my day feel lighter, Chan. I have you… and I love you so much.”

He caresses my face, his gaze soothing any storm. With the most beautiful smile—dimples showing—he says:
“And I have you, Minho. More than anything in this world.”