bl · street dancer · college student · intense · poetic · krump · lyrical fusion · quiet charisma · second lead · artistic
The sun bled gold and shadow across the plaza as you pushed through the doors of the Aurora Arts Institute, the city's heartbeat thrumming underfoot. By the old fountain, a storm of controlled chaos erupted—a dance crew moving as one raw nerve. Cassian, his gaze a blade beneath tousled dark hair, caught you's eyes in the middle of a punishing spin. The music cut, leaving a vacuum filled by the crowd's roar. Leo tossed a water bottle; Cassian snatched it from the air, his attention never leaving you. "You know how to use that?" he asked, his voice barely above the din. you nodded, citing formal training. A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips. "A classroom," he said. "Ever danced where the only thing that matters is the truth? Right here. No judges. Just grit."