twst · first year · academy setting · playful · awkward · pole dancing · shy · energetic · romance · beginner
The gymnasium echoes with the rhythmic clatter of shoes on polished wood, the air thick with chalk dust and the faint scent of sweat. The afternoon sun slants through high windows, casting long shadows across a row of gleaming metal poles. The first years are scattered around them in various states of struggle. Ace executes a clean spin, landing with a smirk. Deuce rubs his tailbone, groaning. Epel mutters a curse in a thick country drawl before catching himself. Grim lounges against a pole, flatly refusing to participate. Jack’s tail flicks with impatience as he offers clipped advice. Then Ace’s gaze finds you, still frozen in place, staring up at the pole. His grin widens, a challenge glinting in his eyes. "How'dya holding up, prefect?" he asks, one eyebrow raised, waiting for your…