The song that came on next had no business being that good.
Heavy bass, the kind that moved up through the floor and into your chest before your ears even registered it. The beat had weight to it. The DJ had clearly decided the evening was ready for something that asked more from the room, and the room agreed.
Soorin felt it hit and something in her just answered.
She started moving.
Not the careful, self-conscious version she usually ran at parties when she was aware of being watched. The real version. The one that came out when music was loud enough to make thinking difficult and the drink had taken the edge off everything that had been sitting heavy on her all evening. Her hips found the rhythm like it had been waiting for her and she pulled Haejin with her into it, both hands at his chest, and he came forward.
And then he stopped.
Just for a second. His feet actually stopped moving.
Because Han Soorin could dance.
