𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒

XI

Rosé bit the inside of her cheek and looked up at Jimin, her eyes searching his own. Looking for that trace of guile. Of ice. Studying his slightly flushed cheeks. Noting the repeated swallowing of his throat, the slight bouncing of his chin. Him licking his lips quickly, then once more as if he hadn't succeeded properly the first time-

Almost as if he is-

-nervous?

She bit back a whoop of triumph as she replied, voice subdued. Gentle. Nearly shy. A delicate brush, painting only pastel colors. "O-of course, Jimin."

Let's see how he reacts-

His expression softened for the barest instant; Rosé could have sworn she dreamt the shift as Jimin's face quickly became unreadable once more. He smoothly moved his hand to her waist as she lifted her hand to his shoulder; his free hand grasped her own lightly as he began to lead them around the dance floor.

She was so close. So close. Close enough for him to smell the fine, flowery perfume Jungkook had bought her-close enough to see the slight crinkle in her forehead as she focused on the steps-the twitch of her eyebrow as their legs knocked together unintentionally-close enough to feel the breath she took as he guided her carefully. Gingerly. As if he were holding the most delicate glass in his hands.

-as if they were the only two people in the room-

He almost felt ill.

As Jimin stared hard above her head, clearly focused on the dance-on the nearness of her, Rosé, nearly pressed against his chest where he couldn't see, permitted herself a small smile. His heart-

His pulse-

They're racing.

You're such an easy mark Park Jimin...

She'd almost grown used to the endless crowd-screaming-clamoring-for their attention as Jimin led her back to the limousine. He opened the door, allowing her to slide in, pulling her skirts around her as Jimin climbed in after her and shut the door. Shutting out the noise. The night. Sealing them inside.

Rosé leaned back against the seat, allowing herself to melt into the plush leather, as she turned her head to look out the tinted window, as if the fleeting city streets were of utmost interest to her. Streetlights glowing amber-some stragglers making their way along the sidewalks-going places she could never fathom-

All of them freer than she.

Her expression hardened slightly as she folded her hands in her lap.

Vinegar.

Ice.

A stone.

Make him want it.

Jimin crossed his legs as his gaze flitted over to her. Illuminated by moonlight streaming in through the backseat window, her dark hair flowing about her shoulders, the beads on her dress shimmering in the faded, thin light-

He couldn't resist dropping his gaze to her hands. The long fingers. Short, practical fingernails, painted a clear color. Clasped casually across her thighs. A thin layer of lace separating flesh from flesh. Her waist, demarcated attractively by that stretch of shiny ribbon-eyes trailing upward-