Fire & Frost | Part 1 - Y/N POV

ᔉ⠀🦋 ۰⠀Gabby ⠀ :hearts: ⠀! 11 days ago

Fire & Frost | Part 1 - Y/N POV-[C]

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[C] ˖ ࣪ ✦ (( [ :mag: |http://aminoapps.juegazos.net/p/f3287e] )) ⊹ ⌒ ⭒ Ꮗ.e

˖ ࣪ ✦ (( :mag: )) ⊹ ⌒ ⭒ Ꮗ.elcσm𝕖 ࣪ ˖ .

ᕱ ⊹ chec.ӄ 𔘓 𝕚t ﹢ 𖦹u𝕥 ╭ ͡ ͡ ◝ ╮ ✧

⭒ 𓏭 𝕥σ ﹫u.ser's Ⴆlo𝕘 ๑ ⩇⩇:⩇⩇ 🖇

જ (( :strawberry: )) 𓏔 𓏔 𓏔 𓏔 :¨·.·¨: ᤱ

ֺ ָ ֙⋆࣪ ★ ⦂ 𐒜.ne𝕩pec𝚝eԃ ◡ ଓ.l𝕒cӄ › ‹3

ꞝ 𝅏 ٠ 𖦹u.t 𔘓 🎞 i𝕟tr𝕠 ✧ ࣪ ˖ . ᮫࣭ ﹆ֹ

hello friends, it's Gabby and I have a

fan fiction for you all to read (if you

want). I hope you like it >.< let's start

╭─── ⋯ 🖍 ! ! to𝕡i₊c ˖ ✦ 1

╰─ 𖠗 𝚝hαt'𝕤 ⊹ mყ nꞈ𝕒ev𝕚s ᰍ %

↷ :movie_camera: ⵓ Ꭵt's ៸៸ m𝕪 𐒐ae𝕧is ▭ ▬

Yeonjun POV

You hated Choi Yeonjun.

It wasn’t just a petty dislike. It was a bone-deep, scream-into-your-pillow, curse-his-perfect-hair kind of hatred.

Ever since freshman year at Hanlim Arts School, he made sure you knew where you stood — two steps behind his shiny sneakers and perfectly tailored uniforms. You were the top of your class until he waltzed in, all smug smiles and dazzling dance moves, and knocked you from your academic pedestal like it was nothing.

He didn’t even try to hide it. “Oh, that’s cute,” he’d said once, glancing at your choreography notebook. “You still write out your routines by hand?”

That was three years ago. You still ed the sting. And you still wrote them by hand — out of stubbornness and spite.

But now, it was senior year. And someone in the department had the brilliant idea of pairing the top two students — you and Yeonjun — for the winter showcase. A duet. A ionate, intimate duet. Perfect.

“You’re late,” Yeonjun said without looking up, adjusting the mirror lighting in the practice room. You set your bag down a little too hard. “You're early. Planning your angles?”

His smirk was instant. God, you hated that smirk. “Just making sure you can keep up, partner.”The word dripped with sarcasm. You ignored him and started stretching. “Do we even have chemistry for this kind of performance?” you muttered. Yeonjun turned toward you, lips quirking. “Is that your way of saying you feel something around me?" You rolled your eyes. “Yeah. Nausea.”He laughed — an annoyingly beautiful sound — and tossed you a water bottle. “Let’s just get through this without killing each other.”But that was the problem. You didn’t just want to get through it. Deep down, you wanted to outshine him. To prove that your years of training, late nights, and silent sacrifices meant more than his natural-born charisma.

The music started. A slow, sultry beat pulsed through the room. You moved together — hesitant at first. His hand brushed your waist, and your muscles tensed. He noticed. Of course he noticed. “Relax,” he whispered. “I’m not going to drop you.”“I wouldn’t bet on that,” you muttered. Still, you danced. And as the hours ed, something shifted. The tension was still there, but it was… different. Not sharp. Electric. Dangerous.

One lift. Two turns. His hands were firmer now, guiding you. Your bodies in sync. And then — during a slow dip — your face inches from his, breath mingling, he said, “You know, for someone who hates me, you sure hold on tight.”

“Shut up,” you whispered. But you didn’t pull away.

That night, as you walked home with sore legs and a confused heart, your phone buzzed.

Unknown Number:

“Nice work today. Don’t fall for me too hard.”

You stared at the screen. Of course it was him.

You didn’t reply.

You couldn’t.

The next day, something was wrong.

You pushed open the practice room door, expecting Yeonjun’s usual cocky greeting — but the room was empty. Your instructor walked in seconds later, face unreadable.

“Change of plans,” she said. “Yeonjun’s been pulled from the duet.”Your heart dropped. “What? Why?”

She hesitated. “He’s... been suspended. Something about a fight. I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

A fight? Yeonjun? That didn’t make sense. He was arrogant, yes — but violent? You swallowed. “What kind of fight?”She sighed. “All I know is, someone mentioned your name.”Your blood ran cold. And then your phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number:

“Meet me behind the school at 9. Come alone. – YJ”