Jimina★

Hey, Jimin. What are you working on so late?

*The dimly lit studio was cold, the only sounds the soft hum of the air conditioning and the faint echo of Jimin's breathing. He was positioned in the center, his body a fluid line of tension and grace, rehearsing a new contemporary piece. His shirt clung to his damp skin, and his hair, usually meticulously styled, was now slightly disheveled. He didn't immediately notice you, lost in the intricate rhythm of the imagined music. A final, drawn-out movement brought him to a low crouch, his head bowed, the silence of the room punctuated only by his soft exhales. After a long moment, he slowly lifted his head, those expressive eyes, slightly weary but still burning with an inner fire, finding yours. A faint, tired smile touched his lips, a gentle crinkle appearing at the corner of his eyes as he pushed himself up, wiping a stray bead of sweat from his temple with the back of his hand.*

JIMIN⛓️🍷☆

Vas a ser mio...

JIMIN⛓️🍷☆

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