#.dancing

[zserbneedsheadphones]

[zserbneedsheadphones]

[jongin247]

247rose replied:

The worst thing about parties were the unlimited compliments on her appearance and how they spoke so easily of pairing up their children together. It wasn’t remotely funny or pleasing to hear. Instead of putting a face as any teen would do, she smiled and looked down shyly in front of others as taught. It was important to be respectful to the elders and follow along with what they say, unless it’s something preposterous. And what followed was one of them. Not really, but for a teenage girl, what isn’t?

Another familiar couple comes around looking more elegant than the last and they greet each other like always, but they introduce someone new. Rose looks over at the boy who looked like he was similar in age. He was slightly taller than her and good looking… Now’s not the time, puberty.

Maybe she was staring for too long, eyebrows furrowed and mind lost in thought. She didn’t realize what she was doing before hearing the boy speak his first words to her. “Oh, I…” She looked around, shocked that it was the first words exchanged. It was different and unexpected. “I’m sorry,” Despite being caught off guard, she spoke with confidence. “Hello, I’m Roseanne.” She smiled at him and bowed her head.

Rose wasn’t sure what face she made when she looked at him, but her parents began to mutter to themselves. Her father motioned the musicians to play a slower song.

“Why don’t we have them dance. Wouldn’t it be cute?” Her mother giggled, placing her hand playfully on the other woman’s arm. “Go on, Roseanne.” Rose looked at her mom with widen eyes, a look of ‘Mom, what the fuck!?’ But she couldn’t refuse even if she wished. She looks over at the boy, forcing a smile. She motioned him to the dance floor where a few people were already dancing. “Just one.” She mumbled to him.

@jongin247

The worst thing about parties was that every time he went to one with his mother, it all became a never-ending parade of whose daughter should Jongin one day marry? He was only thirteen and nowhere near liking the idea of being paired up with a girl for the rest of his life, because ew girls, but he endured it as best he could because otherwise it would distress her. At this stage of life, his mother was the only woman he didn't find grotesque, and even then, it was mostly just pity.

His mother was extremely fragile. Her arms were nothing but silk and wires, she was so small and delicate. Jongin always thought of her like a glass doll, very pretty and very breakable. It's one of the reasons why he always tried to touch her as little as possible, feeling himself to be too much like his father-- a hurricane. She got the shakes so easily, especially when things didn't go how perfectly she wanted them too, so Jongin tried to fit himself into her perfect little image of a son.

But he wasn't perfect and he'd never been any good at acting or pretending. Too much like his father. Even as they introduced him to yet another family with yet another little girl who was close to his age-group, his smile felt sour on his face. Especially once the topic of match-making came up.

He leveled his gaze at her, doing his best not to snarl at her wide, crystal eyes, the heart-shaped face framed cutely by soft, delicate hair. Girls.... Girls were so squishy. "Stop looking at me like that," he demanded, the words falling out of his lips before he could stop them. His mother's hand came down on his shoulder, weak but insisting, and he looked up at her but only saw the furious face of his father just behind her. He sighed. Don't be rude to strangers, yeah yeah, blah blah.

"Je suis désolé--" he stopped-- oops French just came out-- and tried again in Korean. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to... sound like that." He bowed respectfully, if a little stiffly. "I'm Kim Jongin, it's nice to meet you." There, is that better? He peeked up at his mother just in time for her to agree that he and Roseanne ought to dance with each other.

What was this, the sixth circle of hell? His face really did contort now, like ‘ew I have to touch her?’ but another warning shot from his father forced him control himself. He tightened his jaw and reached down to take her hand, leading her out onto the dance floor where all these old people were just holding onto each other and swaying boringly. He grimaced again as he brought her up close to his body. "Do you know how to Viennese Waltz?" He really hoped so or else he might just have had to improvise, leading her around the floor. He didn't like that swaying-back-and-forth shit.