half to your half
➳ Lee Dongheon is a praised choreographer for a soon-to-be debuting boygroup, but the trainees are complaining about his strict way of teaching, so he ends up at your dance class alongside literal kids.
♦ Pairing: choreographer!Dongheon x choreographer!reader/you
♦ Genre: soulmate au, fluff, comedy
♦ Words: 8.5k
♦ Dedicated to: my other half @dat-town who deserves the world! I think you had a feeling I would write about Dongheon, but I hope you’ll enjoy the story nevertheless. I’ve incorporated that one Road to Kingdom scene that made you bias him (and stan Verivery) because I just had to! 😉 Love you more than words could explain! Take care, stay safe! 💖💖
♦ A/N: Click here to be added to the TAGLIST and to let me know about your fic preferences. 💖
“What do you mean I need training? I’ve thought you hired me because I was good enough.”
The air in the meeting room froze for a minute, but Lee Dongheon was firm in his words, and he wasn’t going to break the silence first when he was the one who had asked the previous question. He didn’t want to give up on keeping the eye-contact with the coordinator either because he was sure that sooner or later, the 30-something guy would break. He wasn’t willing to leave just yet, he needed his answers if he was about to receive training when he had been hired because the entertainment company had deemed him the most suitable dance choreographer for their soon-to-be-announced boy group.
“The thing is…” Mr Park started hesitantly, lowering his voice as he continued. “The trainees are complaining.”
Dongheon almost let out a snort hearing that. Almost. The only thing that held him back was his pride and the fact that he was a professional, so he wasn’t going to show that he wasn’t happy to receive such news.
“About what?” He quirked an eyebrow challengingly, having a feeling about what it would be about, but not wanting to back away either. He wasn’t even exactly surprised when he was told:
“About you being too strict.”
“They need to take dancing seriously. It’s not a child’s game. They are preparing for their debut, much worse is waiting for them once they eventually make it to live shows and all that,” Dongheon reasoned with a click of his tongue. He didn’t regret how he had treated those kids. Sure, they were 14-16 year old teenagers, but if they didn’t learn how to behave well during dance practices, when would they take their idol life seriously? One wrong move was enough to turn someone’s life into a hellhole, and they could laugh all they wanted outside of his dance practices, but he wasn’t going to let them have their way when he was their dance teacher.
So no, he didn’t want to show any remorse, nor did he want to seem like he was willing to beg for the company’s forgiveness. He didn’t think that he had done anything wrong. If they kept making mistakes, why wouldn’t he force them to practice more? Maybe he wasn’t the most beloved dance choreographer of all time, but his previous dance teams had never really complained. Though they hadn’t even been as young as these kids.
“Why don’t you just find a new choreographer then?” Dongheon asked flippantly, keeping the eye-contact with Mr Park. The coordinator let out an aghast sigh, then put his hands down on the table, leaning over, so that he could be closer to the guy and explain in a whisper-like tone:
“Because the choreography is yours, and the company is satisfied with it. You just need to soften up a bit,” he said, almost pleading. It seemed like they really did try to keep him at the company, but the choreographer wasn’t exactly happy about some random training when he had other dance classes to attend and other dance groups to teach.
He looked down at the inked words on his arm (a war worth fighting for), the half of that so-called soulmate quote everyone had on their skin. It was like a tattoo, but you couldn’t get rid of it no matter how much you tried. You had half of a quote and your soulmate had the other one, and when you said the two out loud at the same time when you finally found each other, the other half would be engraved into your skin.
He always looked at this half-quote as a life motto. He felt that if he wanted to achieve something, he would only get it if he worked hard enough for it, so that it seemed like a fight. Maybe this particular one would be the same.
“How?” He raised an eyebrow in an almost elegant way, willing to listen if they didn’t want to bring him into some nonsense. Hearing that, Mr Park leaned back, his lips curling upwards. He should have known that the man’s smile didn’t indicate anything good, but what he expected in that meeting room on that fine spring day was very, very far from what actually happened afterwards.
Lee Dongheon found himself at a different dance studio a few days later, staring at the palette of colourful clothes the kids were wearing as they were giddily running around the practice room, occasionally bumping into him and moving on after giggling a bit. If he called the 14-16 year old trainees kids, these kids were toddles. They couldn’t be older than 12. Tooths were missing, boys were screaming in high-pitched voices and girls were still taller than boys. This age group wasn’t something he had ever dealt with, and he didn’t even intend to do so. The entertainment company didn’t seem to think the same though.
He felt so out of place that his usually sociable self started feeling anxious, but it wasn’t because of the amount of people around, but rather because of the age group and their typical (and loud) antics. He didn’t get why he would need to spend time beside a dance teacher who taught dance to kids because it wasn’t the same dealing with teenagers and literal kids! They had different capabilities and different physiques, so how was he supposed to learn anything useful from this so-called training?
That’s when you walked in, dragging him out of his wandering thoughts, and greeted the kids cheerfully. They seemed to like you a lot, grabbing your hand to pull you closer to the centre of the practice room, hugging you (or well, your abdomen because they weren’t that tall to hug you properly) and chattering to you. You listened attentively to them, your smile dazzling and eyes shining in fondness, and only when you walked closer to the benches, did you actually catch sight of the choreographer.
“Oh, hi! You must be Lee Dongheon,” you noted with a bright smile, bowing a bit out of respect. He did the same, albeit a bit fidgety. You took note of his behaviour, cheekily remarking:
“You look like you’ve been reprimanded. Relax! It’s just a class for kids. I don’t even know why you’re here. I only know that you’re going to teach kids as well and need my help,” you explained to him beamingly, and you could see how his shoulders slumped. So you didn’t know. That lifted some weight off of his shoulder. Not because he was ashamed of the reason behind his presence, but rather because he didn’t get it either why he was assigned to you, so how could he explain the situation to you?
“Well, we could say so.” Dongheon nodded hesitantly because he wouldn’t quite phrase himself like that, but let’s just leave it that way.
“It’s okay. I’ve only been teaching kids for three years myself, so I’m not very experienced either, but all I can say is that with time, you’ll surely get used to it,” you reassured him first things first, and when you made sure that he didn’t have any questions, you clapped your hands to gain the kids’ attention, and started the class.
You started shushing the kids and telling them to follow you while you were presenting warm-up exercises. Dongheon followed you a bit clumsily in the beginning, but once he realised that the kid beside him wouldn’t give him odd glances (well, not all the time, just sometimes), he loosened up a bit, and you flashed an encouraging smile at him before continuing. After the warm-up, you went over with the steps for a choreography that you had started teaching the kids last time, and it wasn’t anything groundbreaking, so you weren’t surprised that Dongheon learned the moves just like that, and once it was time for the practice rounds with music, he executed it without any problem.
You decided that it would be best if you showed him how you usually led the classes and after going over the teaching part, he could try himself out while you were practicing the moves with the kids. You hadn’t been given any instruction on how to treat the dance choreographer and what you should do differently compared to your usual classes, you had only been told that he would need to learn how to teach kids, and it was your uncle who had asked you to let him join your classes, so how could you say no?
However, when it was time for the practice rounds by the end of the lesson, and Dongheon took your place, all you could hear was:
“Again!”
“Again!”
“Again!”
You shook your head after a few attempts of his because you could see how demotivated the kids got, their heads hanging low and their usually buzz killed right away. It physically hurt for you to witness what he was doing, and even though you were sure that he would make a great dance teacher one day, he really needed to learn how to deal with kids on top of being a good dancer himself.
“You can’t just tell them to do this again without pointing out their mistakes. They aren’t old enough to realise what they’ve done wrong each and every time.” You stepped beside him, deciding to interfere at this point, and despite the slight annoyed expression on his face, he didn’t voice out his disagreement, so you took it as a good sign and started going around the practice room, telling the kids individually what mistakes you had caught onto while watching them from the side. Then, you walked back to him, signalling him to go on.
You could see that the ones you had told about their mistakes tried to correct themselves, but there were still some children who did the moves wrong by either missing a beat, forgetting to move their hands alongside their legs or putting their arms in odd angles.
“Ag-” Dongheon started automatically, but when he caught himself saying the word, he immediately stopped. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. For a moment, you assumed that he would give up and leave the dance practice behind, saying that he can’t do it any longer, but a second later, he started going around the room just like you had done so, instructing the kids what they should do differently.
You tried to conceal a triumphant smile, but you were proud nevertheless. He might have looked like he wanted to avoid directly touching the kids or that he was searching for ways to let them know about their mistakes without using too much professional dance vocabulary, but at least he was trying, and you appreciated that. Victories always started with initial attempts.
As he walked back to the centre, you tapped a few times on your wrist, indicating that it was time to finish the class, and he nodded.
“Okay, let’s do it one more time, and then, you’re free to go!” Dongheon announced firmly and when he gave you the signal, you pushed the play button on the laptop and started the music. You watched as this grown young man did the trivial little moves with your students, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was so obvious that he was used to something different, something that required more physical strength and stamina and probably more powerful moves, but he seemed to get the hang of your choreography by the end, and he was sweating nevertheless when the final round was finished.
“You all did well today, I’m really proud of you! Don’t forget to practice what we’ve learned so far! See you next time!” You clapped your hands as you were ready to bid your goodbye to your students. They all left in their own ways, but you liked that they were still pumped up, and some of them left the room while doing some moves. You gave them encouraging thumbs-ups and watched them leave with a fond smile before turning back to Dongheon.
“I can see that you have the intention of bringing the best out of them which is essential, you just need to keep in mind that teaching them and practicing with them isn’t the same as practicing by yourself and prompting yourself to do better,” you pointed it out based on what you had seen, but before he could say anything, you added: “But you were good. I could see the improvement.”
Dongheon seemed a bit speechless, ruffling his pitch-black locks to cover up his nervousness, but he still mumbled a hasty thank you in the end. You were content with just that much since it was the first time you had ever met. You inquired if he had any queries, but when he shook his head, you let him go on his way, watching with a knowing smile as he left. Then, you packed up your stuff after everyone had left and headed home.
The next time it was time for a class with the same group of kids, you arrived earlier than your brand new student slash co-tutor. You still didn’t really know why exactly he would need his training and why your assistance was enough because you were nowhere near an experienced professional, but you didn’t want to question neither your uncle, nor him. After all, you were sure that they would tell you if it mattered at all.
You put down your stuff on a bench, opening your laptop and getting ready to start the class while the students were coming into the classroom, chattering as cheerfully as always. Some of them went up to you telling you what they had been up to, or who around them had found their soulmate, and you listened attentively, finding their childish innocence and passion heartwarming.
Truth to be told, you didn’t believe in soulmates as much as those kids did. Maybe it’s because you had tasted the bitter medicine of life when you had been kicked out of an entertainment agency on the verge of debuting because you had messed up your final evaluation, but you didn’t believe in fairytales and in life working out the way you wanted it to. Not anymore. You had more important issues to deal with and more important questions to dwell on other than that big soulmate question even though everyone around you seemed to be buzzing in your soulmate-centric world. There were apps where you could upload your half-quotes and find which one seems matching, there were soulmate-based restaurants and selfie booths and movies and you name it. Once, you might have been interested in finding your soulmate, but after you had decided to become an idol and dating wasn’t allowed for trainees, you had tried your very best to hide your quote with those special sprays you could get your hands on.
You weren’t the only one who wanted to hide their quotes. Idols actually did so while performing live if they hadn’t yet found their soulmate, athletes did so and most teachers and professors did so too because they didn’t want others to see it. You couldn’t blame them. Soulmate quotes were highly personal, and those who didn’t want the whole world to see it and strangers gawking their eyes on what those words on their arms could mean tried to hide it, and there were creams and sprays and plasters and all kinds of things for such purposes. Even though you didn’t hide it anymore since your dreams of becoming an idol had shattered into pieces, you were reassured that you could always hide it if you wanted to.
“Hi!” A familiar male voice dragged you out of your thoughts, and you were lucky that you were currently sitting because you were sure that you would have stumbled backwards if you had been standing, you were so startled.
“Hi!” You averted your eyes to Dongheon who furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but you just shrugged off his unsaid question. He wore a black long-sleeved shirt that was tucked into his high-waisted black jeans, a black belt and black boots, the whole look highlighting his physique. He looked more as if he was to attend a fashion week rather than a dance class with kids, but you wouldn’t comment on his outfit choice for the world. Maybe he had come from a recording and he had needed to dress like that.
“Are we continuing the choreography from last week?” Dongheon asked as he put down his sports bag beside you on the bench, fishing a water bottle out of it and taking a sip from it while he was waiting for you to answer.
“Yeah, it’s the same as the last two weeks, and if everything goes well, we’ll be done with it today. Then, we’ll review it next week and record it at the end of the class.”
“Do you always record them?” He quirked an eyebrow as if it had been that weird, but you nodded confidently nevertheless.
“The kids like to watch it back, and their parents love that they can see their kids dancing,” you explained to him with a smile, thinking of that group chat you shared with your students’ parents. You were lucky that they were all very supportive of their kids’ hobby, it warmed your heart to read their compliments and to hear about their feedback. In a way, it was a way for you to feel as if you had left an impact on their lives. Just as you had wanted to do so by being an idol; you wanted to help others, to cheer them up and to give something to them that would make their lives a bit better, a bit brighter. As an idol, it would have been your songs and your performances, and as a dance teacher, it was the choregraphies you created for the kids and the weekly classes you gave.
“Understandable,” he noted after a few moments of silence, and you were about to ask him why he had posed such a question, but one of your students who had just showed up interrupted you.
“Are you going to teach us today, too?” Minhyuk inquired with his big doe eyes as he looked at Dongheon who was much, much taller than him. Dongheon looked back at you for support as if he had wanted you to answer the question for him, but you just shrugged your shoulders. If he wanted to learn how to teach kids, he needed to learn how to interact with them.
“Yes, I will.”
“I don’t want tooooooo,” cooed the kid with a pout, and you had to sniffle a giggle because he was just so cute, yet Dongheon was just so startled. “You were so scary last time. I don’t want to learn from you,” Minhyuk went on, puffing his chest out as if he had been ready to fight. You wanted to applaud his bravery, but you were so curious about the other dance teacher’s reaction that you kept your reactions to yourself and watched their interaction instead.
Dongheon scratched the back of his neck out of nervousness, then ruffled his pitch-black locks. Once. Twice. Three times. It could be seen that he didn’t know how to react because his eyes were flickering from one side of the room to the other, and his hands were fidgeting with the material of his shirt. Minhyuk kept looking up at him as if he wanted to intimidate him, not the other way round, and you were ready to rise from your seat and interrupt them, trying not to bring Dongheon into such an uncomfortable scene during his second class, but he decided to handle the situation by himself.
“I’ll try not to be that scary today,” he promised a lot softer than usual, but Minhyuk couldn’t be bought with just that.
“You pinky promise?” He raised an eyebrow in question as he held out his pinkie, and you were almost certain that Dongheon wouldn’t give into his wish, but in the next second, he crouched down to be at eye-level with the kid and sealed the pinky promise with the little boy. Minhyuk boasted a boyish smile at that, and bounced back to the rest of the kids with newfound joy.
Dongheon stayed in that pose for a few seconds as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened, and when he straightened up and looked at you, your lips curled upwards in an encouraging way.
“That was impressive!” You complimented him and gave him a thumbs-up before he could try to ask you to forget about it or deny that he gave in because he had a softer side, he was just not good at demonstrating it. You didn’t even let him say anything, you got to your feet and walked to the middle of the practice room, starting the class.
This time, the structure of the class was a bit different than last time because you asked Dongheon to do the new moves beside you, so that the kids could familiarise themselves with him and maybe feel closer to him by seeing that he also made mistakes from time to time. Although it was rare, you reckoned that it was only fair that he could be seen as something other than immaculate, and he didn’t seem to mind either. Even though you could see his frustration rising whenever someone missed a beat or made an obvious mistake or started acting up (because they were restless kids after all, occasional tantrums were inevitable), you didn’t need to interfere as much as last time. He still had a long way to go, but at least now he had taken your advice from last time, and pointed out the students’ mistakes albeit a bit harshly sometimes.
After the class, as you were packing your stuff, you didn’t think that Dongheon would speak up even though you could feel his eyes on you. Yet, when you walked back to your bag with your laptop in hand, he broke the silence:
“I don’t know how you can be so patient with these kids,” he mumbled in awe, and you tried hard not to show how surprised yet thankful you were.
“You learn how to be patient when you wait for years to achieve your dream, only for it to be taken away from you in the last minute,” you blurted out absent-mindedly, but when you saw the confusion in his eyes, you realised what you had just said. Damn it. “Nevermind,” you added with a semi-awkward smile, hoping that he wouldn’t dwell too much on your words. You didn’t want to dump your sappy ex-trainee life onto him out of all people. You were sure that he wouldn’t care.
“Anyways, good job today. You’ll get the hang of it soon, I’m sure,” you remarked in your best supportive tone, and watched as his face turned a shade brighter. Oh, so he could feel flustered because of a compliment. What a rare sight.
“Thanks.” He bobbed his head before gathering his stuff and leaving the practice room with you by his side. You bid your goodbye to him at the entrance as you were heading two different ways, and maybe you had seen it wrong, but it was as if you could see an empathetic smile playing along his lips. As if he had understood you even without you telling him about your crushed dreams.
Sure enough, Dongheon did start to get the hang of it, he just needed to learn how to treat kids on top of being a dance teacher. Or well, rather before knowing how to be a dance teacher to kids. Because someone could be an excellent teacher and horrible with kids, yet someone could be amazing with kids, but wouldn’t make a good teacher. So the two needed to go hand in hand, and you hadn’t been born with your current skills either, you had also needed to learn how to be a dance teacher to kids after giving up on your idol dreams.
You had loved dancing, you had loved kids, so you had thought that it would be rather easy, but you had had to learn a lot in the beginning, and if it hadn’t been for your love for both children and dancing, maybe you had given it up from the start. However, you hadn’t wanted to let this opportunity go when you had had the chance to continue learning unlike the time you had been kicked out of that agency.
You always watched Dongheon interact with the kids with a fond smile, and you had to realise that once he had gotten over his initial discomfort and sulkiness, he was seemingly starting to enjoy himself beside the little ones. How couldn’t he when he acted like a big baby sometimes? You wouldn’t have believed your own eyes that he was the same person from your first dance class together if you hadn’t witnessed both sides of him, but maybe he had just not wanted to do this whole thing in the beginning, and it had kept him from being his true self.
He could be silly and childish around the kids, joking with them and giving in to join their little games or listen to their ramblings. They even started to interrogate him about his life (and his love life), and despite them desperately wanting to know about his soulmate quote, he kept it hidden, telling them that he might show it one day but not so soon. You could understand him since they had tried to play matchmakers when they had seen yours, too, and it’s not like anyone could blame him for wearing long-sleeved shirts because it was winter anyways.
Thanks to the kids though, you got to know that he was a choreographer at an entertainment company, and he taught soon-to-be debuting teenagers, thus he was here to learn how to teach them in a less strict way. Even though you tried to bury your resurfacing memories from your trainee days, they came back anyways, sending a wave of bittersweetness through your body. When Dongheon caught onto your shaken up state and worriedly asked if he had said something wrong, you merely shrugged it off. It was all in the past, you told yourself, and decided to start the class instead.
However, it wasn’t only you who showed a different side of themselves during your classes. It was around two months after your first class together, and you could feel his tenseness from the beginning of the lesson, but decided to not bother him if he didn’t want to tell you about the reason. Maybe he was having a bad day, that’s all. On the other hand, when he got more and more frustrated throughout the class because of the kids’ mistake, you couldn’t just sit idly.
“That’s wrong. Do it again!” He practically ordered Kangmin to do the moves in front of the others without music, and when he was still not satisfied, he put his hands on his hips, letting out a long sigh.
“Can’t you see that you’re doing it wrong? You’ll never become a professional dancer if you keep messing up like this.”
That was when you decided to interrupt him, standing between him and the kid before he would say something that would move the boy to tears.
“Dongheon! You can’t talk to a child like that,” you told him firmly, and it was the first time your voice had such an authoritative edge to it. Whenever he was being a bit too harsh, you tried to prompt him to change his attitude in a rather friendly, nudging way. However, this time, you couldn’t just let him be. It seemed that your usual teaching style wouldn’t be effective on him.
“Why not? Should I be kind when life’s only treating me unfairly?” Dongheon looked you straight into the eyes, his words dripping with hurt and pent-up fury. His gaze could burn a whole city down with its fierceness and power, but there was something very sorrowful, very bitter in it, and your heart sank as you kept looking at him.
You were about to open your mouth when he turned on his heel and left the practice room, the sound of the door shutting behind him echoing for a long time before you found your voice and carried on with the class, your mind wandering off from time to time, wondering where he could be and what he could be feeling.
Not knowing his contact and not feeling like you had the right to pry into his life, you hadn’t seen, nor had you talked to Dongheon again, but you kept thinking of the reason behind his outburst, and it killed you that you felt like you couldn’t do anything for him. You could feel that there was something going on because there was no way he would have gotten so angry at Kangmin all of a sudden, but at the same time, you weren’t close enough to talk about such things. You wished you could be there for him because even if you might not have been able to help, you could at least listen to him.
The next week, you were so lost in thought that you merely registered that someone was already in the practice room when you entered, and if it hadn’t been for him speaking up first, you might not have recognised him until you had walked further.
“Hi!” He greeted you with a neutral expression, but you could detect guilt hiding in the corner of his mahogany eyes which made you feel even more empathy towards him.
“Hi!” You reciprocated his greeting with a subtle smile, not sure how to act around him after last time. So you decided on putting your bag down on the bench beside him without saying a word, letting him decide if he wanted to say something or not.
And so he did.
“I’m sorry.”
As you felt the words hanging in the air, you could feel how difficult it was for him to get it out, but at the same time, you could feel that it was as sincere as an apology could be. So you followed your heart and sat down beside him, looking ahead of yourself.
“It’s okay. You’ve probably had your reason,” you reassured him because anyone could have something going on in their lives that might affect how they treat others. You merely hoped that if he could share the burden, he would be willing to do so, but before that, someone had to show that they cared. So you gave it a shot. “Want to talk about it? If it’s about dance, I’m an ex-idol trainee who has been kicked out of her company after the final evaluation, so maybe I can understand.”
You weren’t afraid to confess something like this now because you wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone with whatever he was feeling. And despite the clear surprise on his face that you could see in the front mirror, you had a feeling that he already had a feeling that your back story would be something like this. He might not have been extremely nosy, but he was observant enough, so you were sure that he could guess some parts about your past.
“It’s not that. Not just that.” He shook his head decisively, and let out an aghast sigh. You finally looked at him and not just his reflection, and from the way his shoulders slumped, you could see that he was trying to master up his courage, but didn’t know how. You didn’t want to push him either, so you sat there side by side, listening to the sound of the clock ticking on the wall.
You would have been more than happy with the silence because at least he was there, willing to show up and willing to apologise, but when he spoke up, you listened attentively, your heart sinking deeper and deeper as the monologue went on.
“After graduation, I got accepted at a dance academy in the US, but a week before I was supposed to leave, my mom got sick, and then they found a tumor. She needed surgery and a few months of recovery, and I’ve stayed with her, giving up on my dream. Since then, I’ve never even left the city because I’m afraid something might happen to her, and last week she got her monthly examination, and her results weren’t that promising.”
“And you were afraid that she might fall sick again,” you whispered, barely able to master those few words out after you had gotten to know such a personal part of his life. He had always seemed rather composed and passionate, someone who had been confident because he had never tasted failure. You couldn’t have been more wrong.
Dongheon nodded, his mahogany eyes bathing in the sea of uncertainty. You wished you could say something hopeful, but it wasn’t like his mother’s condition would suddenly get better if you prayed hard enough. You also wished you could feel confident enough to reach out and hold his hand to show that you were there for him, but you didn’t know how he would react to that despite that inward urge to share the burden and listen to whatever worries he had.
“It’s no use running tests now because the doctors say that it’s common to have worse results once in a while, but I guess I was worried history would repeat itself,” he mumbled loud enough for you to hear it yet not any louder. It was a confession only you should hear, no one else. It was your secret, the whispers of his heart and the tales of his present.
“I don’t blame you. I can’t even imagine what I would be feeling if I were in your shoes.” A cold shiver ran down your spine even just by thinking about. “You know you don’t have to come to class if you don’t feel well. Mentally or physically, it doesn’t matter.” you added gently, trying your best with an encouraging smile. Just because he was supposed to come to learn from you, you didn’t want him to feel pressured to be here each and every time until his boss would finally be satisfied with his improvement.
Dongheon shook his head, bitterness swallowing up his words as he continued.
“I’ve wanted to apologise to you and to that kid.”
“I’m sure he would understand.” You nodded fervently, knowing Kangmin well enough to assume that he would stay just as determined as before, if not more. That kid was one of the most dedicated dancers in his group.
“Thank you for telling me this,” you felt the need to add before any of your students would arrive, and when he finally looked at you and you exchanged a glance, there was a bit of a smile in the corner of his lips, and suddenly, that inward urge to be there for him elevated. You couldn’t pinpoint why, you didn’t know what was this sudden odd sensation going through your body, but you reciprocated his smile, and you looked away only when one of the kids arrived.
After you had talked about why Dongheon had suddenly left the class that time, you felt less cautious around him, and he also seemed a lot more loosened up around the kids. As expected, Kangmin didn’t hold a grudge against him, so Dongheon was good to go again, and you would have never taken it to heart that he had just rushed out of your class, especially after knowing the reason why. You felt like you could understand him a bit better, and you could feel his empathy, too. It was as if you could relate to what the other had gone through, and it was odd since you had never felt this way before. May it be because you had quite a special case with being dismissed from an entertainment company and finding your way to your current workplace and his dreams changing due to the circumstances, but that string that had kept on pulling you towards him had become more and more difficult to resist. Not to mention when he wanted to get to know you better.
“Why haven’t you applied for a different company?” Dongheon inquired the next time you met, posing you the question after the class had finished, and it was only you two left.
“I’ve spent my youth on training at that certain one. I was tired of life kicking into me,” you replied with a bitter smile, but you didn’t mind his question. You had a feeling that he would understand, and you wouldn’t need to elaborate further. You were right.
“Understandable.” He nodded firmly, and his serious state showed you that he really cared. Lately, you had had to realise that he was such a goofy, childish guy in general, his serious self resurfacing only when it was about something work-related which was dancing in your case, so you weren’t surprised that you could only see his most authentic sides when some time had passed by.
“Want to show me how you dance if you aren’t teaching kids?” Dongheon raised an eyebrow challengingly, dissolving the tension in the air with his question. You snickered, raising your eyebrows alongside his as if you were ready to fight him.
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? You’re a choreographer for idol trainees.”
“Well, if you are that curious…” He shrugged without hesitating a moment, but before he would get ready to dance, he turned to you and put his index-finger in the air. “But you have to show me what you got afterwards,” he made you promise with a cheeky smile, and you rolled your eyes, but nodded nevertheless. You were actually curious how he would dance apart from your rather easy choreographies made for children, plus it really wouldn’t make any difference if you showed him what you had been working on instead of practicing only by yourself.
You couldn’t tell what exactly you had been expecting, but the guy didn’t disappoint. His moves were fluid, he was perfectly in control of his body, and he made the choreography look so effortless. You could still see behind the seemingly easily executed movements, see the many hours of hard work and the physical strength he needed to use to do certain moves such as pushing himself off the ground or sliding on the floor ever so quickly. Your lips parted in awe as you watched him dance because he was so immersed, it was as if dancing was his second skin, and you adored watching others dance who had the same passion as you did.
Since you didn’t know when he would stop and turn back to you, but the song went on because he probably didn’t finish the last touches on the choreography, he caught you staring with your mouth slightly agape. Even if you wouldn’t deny that you thought that he was amazing, he needed to rub it in your face.
“Not bad, huh?” Dongheon quirked an eyebrow teasingly, and that smirk in the corner of his lips made you roll your eyes. A second later, he let out a wholehearted laughter, and you let him enjoy this moment as he retreated to sit on the bench with you, reaching for his water bottle. That’s when you were ready to let him know about your opinion on what you had seen.
“That was impressive. You could have joined an idol group with those skills,” you pointed out frankly, but he shook his head after he had taken a sip from the water.
“Ah, I’ve never known how to sing or rap, and I didn’t want to be in the spotlight.
“To be honest, I’m rather thankful now that things turned out this way. I’m not sure I would have kept on enjoying being in the spotlight after debuting, so I can understand,” you let him know solemnly. Maybe you had been heartbroken over how you had needed to leave your agency, but now you were a firm believer that everything happened for a reason. Sometimes we can only see what a certain event or a milestone in our life indicates until some time passes by.
You sat in silence for a bit while he was trying to catch his breath, but he didn’t forget about your deal, so he prompted you to dance. You didn’t need to be told twice, you set the chosen song on repeat on your laptop, and walked to the centre of the practice room, sitting down and getting into position before the first beat of the song would be played. Then, you gave your all to the rather feminine choreography, focusing on your reflection in the mirror instead of Dongheon’s face, focusing on how you and your body felt while you were becoming one with the music. The moves were well-practiced and the transitions were smooth, so your hopes of telling a story with the choreography were high. Yet, due to the fact that you enjoyed it so much, it seemed like such a short time until you finished, and turned back to the guy, curious about his feedback.
Dongheon blinked a few times before he could form an opinion, and that was enough of an answer for you, so your lips had already curled upwards before he spoke up. He could scarcely be flustered, so you were rather content that you could make him lose his confidence for a bit while watching you dance.
“That was impressive, too,” he concluded after he had cleared his throat. You kept on your knowing smile as you sat back beside him, pulling up the sleeves of your sweater, the sudden rush of heat warming up your body enough to feel a bit suffocated in your clothes. You didn’t even think much of it until you caught Dongheon staring at your arm. To be precise, the inked half-quote on your arm.
“Oh yeah. My soulmate quote. It says ‘love is a war, but…’. I guess I may get to know once how it ends.” You straightened your arm, so he could see the quote properly. You had never really given the words much thought because there could be endless ways the sentence could end, so there was no use guessing.
On the other hand, Dongheon seemed a bit bewitched for a moment, yet you didn’t know why. Some people were rather sentimental about the soulmate quotes, so you assumed he was one of those too, and that’s why he looked so perplexed, but then he blurted out:
“A war worth fighting for.”
“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows in question, not knowing what his words could indicate. Was he trying to guess the ending of your soulmate quote?
“Love is a war, but a war worth fighting for,” he spoke up loud and clear, and you didn’t even have time to dwell on his words because you could feel a tingling sensation on your arm. It was as if an invisible force was hovering over it, but it didn’t hurt, it felt a bit ticklish instead. It wasn’t an entirely unfamiliar feeling, but you had felt this way only once before; when the half-quote had appeared on your arm on your 14th birthday just like it had done for everyone. Which could mean only one thing...
The moment you looked down on your arm, your quote was finished. After the comma, ‘but a war worth fighting for’ was written as if it had always been there. You blinked in confusion, looking up at the guy who held up his arm for you to show that he had the same - now - full quote engraved into his skin. He seemed just as bewildered as you, but knowing that he was your soulmate could explain why he had seemed to understand you like no one else, and why you had wanted to be there for him to share his burden. Sure, soulmates could be best friends, siblings or lovers, but whatever their relationship might be, they were called soulmates for a reason, and knowing that he was yours was both oddly satisfying and scary. You had toyed with the idea of meeting your soulmate one day, but you had never quite imagined it to go this way.
You were both speechless for quite a bit afterwards, but then he nudged your shoulder, and said:
“Hey! At least, it’s not that awkward that your jaw dropped upon seeing a guy dance because I’m your soulmate after all.”
“I’m not the one who needed to visibly gulp after seeing my dance,” you retorted as you nudged his shoulder back, and you caught him with that, you could see it in the way his eyes widened. However, in the next moment, his lips curled upwards and he burst into laughter. You followed his example, and you let yourself enjoy this rather joyful moment. With him. With your soulmate.
What a turn of events.
After getting to know that you two were soulmates, not much changed. Neither of you were firm believers of forcing this soulmate thing onto your relationship, you let things flow as they would either way. Though one thing that the realisation helped to facilitate was opening up to the other, talking about your dreams and past scars after practices because you knew that you were soulmates for a reason, so you could share such personal matters, and after last time, you were more certain than ever that he would be able to empathise with you.
You enjoyed getting to know Dongheon better because there were so many sides to him, and the initial sulky one was just one of them, and now that you knew why he had acted the way he had done so, you couldn’t even blame him. He was such a jokester sometimes, you didn’t even get all of his jokes, but as more time went by, you became accustomed to his cheekiness. Not to mention that he got better and better at teaching kids, and you had a feeling that it was because he was still a bit like a child at heart, he merely needed to put aside his sternness when teaching the little ones. It also helped that his mother was doing okay again, so he didn’t need to worry about her previous worrying results.
No wonder his higher-ups noticed the change in his way of teaching, and you were both told that he wouldn’t need to come to your classes anymore because his so-called training had seemed to be effective. On top of that, he became busy watching over the soon-to-be debuting boygroup’s practices, so he couldn’t come by every time, but he still made an effort to show up from time to time, and the kids welcomed him affectionately each and every time. You sometimes met outside of practice rooms too, mostly eating or having something to drink after both of you were finished with work for the day, and soon enough, you found it easier and easier to believe that he was actually your soulmate. You two were close friends for a while afterwards, and occasionally you helped each other out with choreographies for your classes or for your own pleasure. Sharing the same passion for dance brought you two even closer, and when it was just the two of you dancing in practice rooms, you felt like your heart would burst out of your ribcage each time his fingers ghosted along your skin, and each time you felt like you breathed the same air with only a few centimetres between you two.
Soulmates didn’t have to be lovers; they could be siblings, they could be best friends or anything similar, but you felt the string between you pulling you two closer and closer figuratively and literally. You caught him when he almost fell on his butt on the ice outside of the dance studio you worked at, he pulled you back when you stepped onto the ground when the lights turned red, you helped him get into a taxi and get inside his flat when he knocked himself out after a drinking night, and he accidentally held onto your hand when you were watching a horror movie together (or at least, he said that it was accidental). All of those moments might have been coincidental, but you wouldn’t have minded if they had been for real.
Dongheon must have felt the same because once when he pulled you with him when you were running to catch your bus, he didn’t let go of your hands when you sat down in a love-seat. You looked at your intertwined hands, and when he caught you staring, he merely shrugged his shoulders.
“Does it bother you? I think it’s rather comfortable,” he remarked with a subtle smile, casting you a curious glance nevertheless.
“It doesn’t bother me. I like it,” you agreed with heat flushing to your cheeks, and you had to look away before he could see the blossoms of burgundy tinting your rather pale skin. You sucked in a few deep breaths before turning back to him, but when you did so, he was closer than ever, and you almost bumped your head into his.
“Really? I like it, too,” he said in a rather cheeky tone, and his eyes were so mesmerizing, you just couldn’t bear yourself to look away, so you kept staring into those dark orbs, those hidden universes, and you wished you could capture this very moment; him being so close to you, your heart beating alongside his, and his breath fanning over your skin.
Sure, it might have been less intimate if you had just kissed him right then and there, and he might have felt the same way because he didn’t seal your lips tight, he merely let a boyish grin stretch over his lips that didn’t fade away even as your bus ride came to an end. He didn’t forget about your earlier confessions, so when he walked you home with his hands still in yours, he hovered over you gently and slowly, and kissed you while smiling to himself. He knew you wouldn’t push him away, he knew you would kiss him back, but what could you do? You were already weak for him.
But that was okay. He was your soulmate after all, and you were willing to fight by his side no matter what it would take to protect this love.