Remember this is your boy toy - you pick the idol. Therefore, [HN] = his name. =]
During dance practice, you focus more on the other members; unable to keep your mind where it belongs. Foot placements, posture fixes, and other simple corrections. You attempt to keep everything normal and ordinary.
During break the members all collapse on the floor with their water bottles. You wander over to the other side, keeping distance, you only have another hour to go.
“What did I do?”
Water dribbles out of your mouth as he comes up behind you, surprising you. As you wipe your chin you turn to face him, “What?”
“You’re ignoring me. You’ve fixed and corrected everything for everyone else, why not me?”
You smile and playfully smack him on the chest, “Maybe you were perfect?”
“Aish,” he grabs your hand before you can pull it away. “Tell me what’s wrong; maybe I can help.”
You laugh out right looking at the ceiling; oh, he could help alright. You clear you throat as your thoughts run unbidden again. You pat him on the chest again and wiggle your hand free;
“All is good, I promise. Time to get back in line, did you get enough water?”
He turns away frustrated and growling. The other members just give him a passing glance as you order practice to start again.
You let them run through it on their own; multiple obvious mistakes are being made. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, he wants attention?
“[HN]! Did you leave your brain on break? What are you doing? Again; by yourself.”
The other members smack him on the butt laughing as they walk past and gladly sit down again.
“From the top," you growl in frustration.
After watching him do previous mistakes perfect and mess up in other areas you are totally onto his game. Keeping your hands to yourself you walk in front of him,
“Mirror me,” and the music starts again.
He keeps his eyes on yours, completes the dance perfectly. You roll your eyes at him as the music stops. You lean in as you pass him,
“You’re wasting the group’s time.”
“All of you are having a bit of difficulty with jump, jump, pelvic thrust. Ten reps, let’s see them.”
To distract yourself you walk behind the group, back and forth. You’ve gotten out your pointer so that you aren’t physically touching them but can just tap them.
“Let’s see it in the dance, than you can call it quits.” Moans and groans come from tired, sweaty bodies but they comply.
As soon as you release them, they all head out the door. Thinking you are by yourself, you squat on the floor with your head between your legs. Damn this is getting harder. You hear a noise next to you and glance up to see him walk over and sit on the floor.
He looks at you with scorn, “Yep, everything’s fine.”
“Aren’t you being a little informal [HN]?”
He just stares at you for a minute and shrugs, taking a drink of water. He picks up your pointer and throws it across at you,
“What’s with this crap? Do we all suddenly have leprosy? You never used to have a problem touching us.”
With this last comment he scoots closer, only an inch away. You can smell him; whatever soap he used that morning mixed with the musk of him. Vivid images from your dream flash in front of your eyes. You give an involuntary groan.
He reaches over and brushes a stray hair off your shoulder. “Try me, I bet I could help you.”
You just shake your head no but he grabs your chin and lifts your face to his. “Sure about that?” he says as you strokes your cheek.
“See I’ve been having these dreams.”