Ten goes to a small art gallery in dedication to the late Julie Yoon, an American photographer and painter who died only a few years back but has gained a lot of reputation in Seoul.
Unknowingly, when he goes he meets the finest piece of art in the...
A/N: thanks for coming to my fanfic for ten. It's not my first to write but it is on this account so please enjoy this cornball of a fic. I hope you guys like it.
Also, the picture of Ten above is how I feel the main girl sees Ten the first time they meet. ;^) okay!! enjoy!!
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Ding.
The bell set on the desk rang loudly through the quiet room like a knife, heads turning towards the sound before returning to their soft conversation. A young woman popped up, her dark hair pulled into a ponytail and a pink hat rested on her head as she smiled kindly at the young man before her.
"Hello, welcome to the Julie Yoon exhibit. How can I help you?" she asked him.
He watched her in awe, she was a true masterpiece. When he came to this exhibit he had expected to find some really beautiful works of art there, but her. He never expected the ivory palette that made up her skin, dark splatters of brown running up her arms and softly dotted onto her face. Her dark hair held into perfect place while tied neatly, and her clothes contrasted the soft elegance of her look into a darker merage of something he'd never seen before.
"Hello?" she called, waving a thin hand in front of his face, awaking him from his daydream.
"Sorry," he muttered sheepishly. She nodded, her eyes telling him she was waiting for what she needed. "Can I get one ticket?" he asked, she nodded with a small smile, opening her drawer and handing it to him in exchange for his money.
He continued to stand there, the feeling of electricity passing through his skin, the tendons in his arm shaking as he slowly lowered his hands. Though his eyes never did.
She leaned in real close as the line began to queue, only a few people in line, "Take a picture, it'll last longer," she whispered to him and he turned bright red before moving into the exhibit.
The young woman stayed behind the desk as he people came and went, an hour passing by before she saw the young man. The gallery was quite small but luckily with the appearance of new paintings every so often, people still came.
"My phone died, could you make a call for me?" he asked, licking his lips as she nodded picking up the phone naively.
"To who?"
"The Art Loss Register, 'cause you just stole my heart."
"Cute," she replied with a small smile before turning away and back to her work behind the desk.
He watched her carefully, waiting for her to turn back to him but she never did. Once the sound of his shoes disappeared, she turned back only to find a bright blue post-it note on her computer. She plucked the flimsy paper reading the words on it, "Text me, love. We can talk all about those fine pieces of art behind the desk."
She turned bright red, setting the note inside her desk before turning to the people awaiting their ticket next.
![She's the Art | Ten [NCT]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/87267600-64-k480789.jpg)