Desire
Title: Desire
Fandom: Girls' Generation
Pairing: Anything you want it to be :)
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG 13
Summary: It's the little things that make her want her.
A/N: You might have seen this some ages ago on SSF, I wrote it for snsdgo after much badgering from him. This piece was my first foray into KPop fanfic, but I still quite like it so here it is.
It took a long time for her to realise that she wanted her. It took her even longer to realise that it didn't take much to prompt the flush in her cheeks, or the sudden shortage of oxygen in the air. She could cause such violent reactions within her with the subtlest of actions, all probably unconsciously done. It was a turn of the head. The curve of a hip. The gentle curl in her hair. The warmth and sweetness that would shimmer in her dark, doe eyes. The coy upturn of a lip that didn't quite, but almost did, smile. All moments caught in time that replayed themselves on the backs of her eyelids to the soundtrack of that low, soft, feminine voice. The voice which plagued her dreams and ruled her daydreams while the girl that it belonged to tortured her every thought and every decision.
The dance routines and the costumes that went with them certainly didn't help. The costumes themselves didn't leave much to the imagination, and her imagination was so very active whenever she was around. There were times when she would be behind her, or just off to the side as she stood in and owned the spotlight. Every time she could never tear her eyes away from her. The slender line of her neck. The slope of her shoulders. The sensual dip of the small of her lower back. Each line, each contour traced and memorized with her eyes.
She watched as the smallest of tremors rippled down her back. Of course, being the professional that she is, she would never show anything but perfection at a performance - yet she had seen the shiver. Her mind toyed with the sight of it as she went through flawless dance movements that had long ago been implanted into the memory of her body. Could she have possibly felt her gaze? Could she have possibly felt the heat that she'd been feeling racing through her body? Could she have felt it?
Suddenly she identified with the lyrics they were singing more than she ever had before. Lyrics of love and longing, of fire and fools. Her heart raced as for the first time she began to understand - truly, deeply understand - what she was singing about. Because that's what she was, wasn't she? A lovesick fool burning up with the fire of desire and slowly becoming more embarrassed every time she was caught staring and becoming inexplicably shyer around her because she now knew that she had fallen in lo-
The lights pulsed in a dizzying and blinding flash of bright synthetic light. Trusting in her instincts and the memory within her feet and the music that kept playing, she kept dancing, waiting patiently for the blackness to recede from her vision. It was not surprising that the first thing her eyes focused on was the silhouette of her, the outline of her too-familiar body. She imagines to herself (with no small amount of irony) that the aura of constant, cheery optimism that draped itself around her shined so bright at that particular moment that she had managed to blind everyone around her. The assault on her senses leave her dazed and numbed, unable to do little more than look at her.
She does, however, feel the skip of her heart beat and the shortness of her breath as she moved next to her, pressing what seemed to be every millimeter of that body against her. There was a split second of silence, of absolute stillness as she registered every sensation. Then just as suddenly, her heart sprung to life within her, trembling and erratic as she struggled to hold the finishing pose in a tableau of frozen perfection. The calm stillness was near impossible to achieve as every cell within her screamed out for some kind of release.
The performance came to an end. The lights went down to thunderous screams. And still her mind danced on, hand in hand with her heart.