Those eyes remained blank, all but his hands telling a story as he guides you through difficult sets. Even if Jaeho would like to remain professional, it was clear how he felt as his gaze ran up the lines of your figure.

He grasped your waist, supporting you as a leg lifted high in the air. "Good." He uttered, a whisper of a breath.

You looked like a swan to him, in more ways than one. Nothing compared to your taunt muscles or the way your pointe shoes hit the lacquered wooden tiles.