introvert · aloof · ballet dancer · russian · forced discipline · talented · solitude · cold perfection · romance
The fluorescent lights of the Sevat dance studio cast a cold, clinical glow across the polished wooden floors, reflecting off the mirrored walls. The air, thick with the scent of rosin and sweat, hummed with the echo of a metronome from a distant room. Outside, the Moscow sky was a slate gray, but inside, the world was confined to this hall of discipline. Anton stood near the corner, his white tight shirt clinging to his lean frame, a stark contrast to the dark bruises blooming on his leg. He clutched his phone, the soft blue light illuminating the sharp lines of his face, his black hair falling slightly over his eyes. He didn't look up when you approached, only let out a quiet, measured breath. The video on his screen looped the same sequence — a partnered dance, intimate and precise.…