Y ☓ D ● STUDIO━ ❞
There’s a certain quiet that Doojoon enjoys that’s hard to come by since, in his opinion, it occurs naturally without any artificial intervention; lack of awareness, at least initially, is crucial. It happens ten minutes after he’s entered the room, in the moment after he’s put on his shoes and before he’s stood up to stretch. He sits there, knees bent with his arms lazily wrapped around his legs, just listening to the sounds of the dance studio: a flurry of squeaks from the shoes, unintelligible murmurs, and the drone of the AC above. They all seem to mix together into a controlled cacophony that partially fills the silence, busying it with a comfortable white noise without demanding attention just the same. Placid, gentle, Doojoon could go for hours.
A smile begins to form on his lips slowly as if the sounds themselves were threading it together, sewing the expression onto his features. It never reaches its completion, though, for a figure steps in. The person is silent in their entrance, but even a leaf falling on the floor would’ve been enough sound to overflow the ones already pleasant, so the quiet he’d come to enjoy leaves quickly and without a parting word. Doojoon’s eyes settle on the incoming student but the only thing he manages to catch is a bob of boyish hair and a flash of tanned skin. His gaze falls around him, realizing then that the only spot open to set down one’s belongings was beside the man, and he pulls his bag closer to place behind him and make room for the stranger. He tries to make himself busy by standing and beginning to stretch; he didn’t need any extra attention. Doojoon was new, both to dancing and the studio. His movements were still that of a novice—untrained, ungraceful, unrefined—and he definitely wasn’t going to give other students another reason to perhaps single him out. Even with that mentality in place. the young man still finds himself waiting patiently for the other person to come along and settle next to him: after all, a new friend in such a foreign setting couldn’t hurt.