𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗.

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𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗.

𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗

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"Joonie, where are we-"

"Shh," Namjoon smiled, grasping her by the hand and pulling her from the car. "Just trust me."

Celine couldn't help the stupid grin that crossed her face, as the car stopped by the riverside a short drive from their apartment. She glimpsed up at the building in front of them, a towering brick structure with a huge central chimney. 

She furrowed her brow. "What is this place?"

"The Tate Modern," he replied. "Now come on - pull your mask up, just until we get inside."

Celine's heart raced at the knowledge that he was bringing her to an art gallery. It was their thing - the thing he loved, before she was here, and the thing they shared now. She tugged at her dress, remembering with a soft smile Namjoon's reactions when he'd first seen it.

And then, what had happened afterwards.

God, Celine had never thought it could be like that. Namjoon helping her get off was one thing; watching him fall apart, mouth open and head thrown back and calling her name like a prayer in that low, masculine groan of his, and all because of her actions...

A throb of want ran through her. She wanted this date, but she wanted what came after it too. Badly.

Snapping back to reality, she pulled the face mask up - Namjoon was right to be cautious. Although it was late and the gallery looked closed, London was still busy, and so they hurried towards the door with their heads down. When they reached the dark, abandoned building, she looked at Namjoon with even more confusion. 

"It's closed," she said, as if it should be obvious.

Namjoon just gave her a knowing dimpled grin. "Yes, I know," he rolled his eyes cheekily. As he said it, a man approached them in all-black. Celine dropped behind Namjoon, grasping his hand tight.

But the man simply smiled at Namjoon and reached for the door, unlocking it and holding it open for the two of them. Namjoon tugged Celine inside.

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