The club’s neon spotlights flashed like violent warnings over the center stage. Underneath the blinding glare stood a blonde-haired boy, his hips swaying with a fluid, hypnotic rhythm. His body moved like falling water—captivating, elegant, and drawing every eye in the room. He was a vision that made everyone ache to touch him, to feel him, but his eyes held a hypnotic, distant gaze. He ran his own hands over his skin, fully immersed in his own rhythm; to him, the touch of anyone else in this crowd was nothing but trash. He was feeling himself, entirely untouchable.
Deep in the pitch-black corner of the VIP lounge, a broad silhouette stood perfectly still. His calculating gaze tracked every single step, watching the dancer's hands trace his own body.
A dark, unfeeling smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he murmured to the shadows:
"A filthy stray cat wants to be touched."
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
| Top Kook
Bottom Tae | ᝰ.ᐟ
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