XXI

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Jimin crossed his legs once more, almost seizing up as he felt her knee, radiating heat, nudge his, sending a thrill of chain reactions jittering throughout his body.

I'm going to Hell, aren't I?

One of the serving girls that Rosé recognized only cursorily entered the room and quietly took their plates away; Rosé continued to look at Jimin, her eyes shining and round. Lips pursed as if doing so almost subconsciously. Jimin reeling with every breath he took, his eyes flitting around her-her arms-her hands-her neck-anywhere but those eyes of hers-

I must regain control of this situation, dammit-

Rosé blinked heavily a few times, smiling to herself all the while.

-let's watch him squirm, shall we?

The serving girl returned to the dining room and folded her hands in front of her, looking expectantly at Jimin.

He felt the girl's gaze on the back of his neck, turned in his seat to her. Voice coming out almost hoarse. "What?"

"Will you be wanting dessert first, or coffee, Mr. Park?"

Jimin thought for a moment. Dared. Felt himself being pulled in, moth-like, to a truly awful idea. Knowing that in all honesty, he ought to end the dinner right then-call it a night. Escort Rosé back to her room. Watch her evening ritual like a shameless creep.

And yet-

-I am going to Hell. "We'll take both now. Outside. On the patio, if you don't mind."

"Right away, sir." And the girl turned on her heel and made her way back into the kitchen.

On the patio? How bold of him. Rosé moved her hands to her lap and crossed her legs at the ankle. It is a rather nice night-

-wouldn't you say, Park Jimin?

Such an easy mark...

Jimin rose from his chair in a fluid, graceful motion, smoothing his suit jacket, before walking around the table to stand by Rosé's side. Reaching out an elegant hand to her. Solicitous.

-His other hand practically shaking all the while-

He quickly shoved it into his pants pocket as she looked up at him, eyes wide and beguiling, scooting her chair back and placing her hand in his.

She almost cursed aloud, risking her act-her control over herself-as she felt that heat-that flutter-

-again-

-I swear, I must be going mad-

"I assume that you will, of course, be having dessert, Miss Rosé-" His face was suddenly smug. Knowing. Well, I do know one thing she likes...

Rosé feigned innocence, twisting her lips into a charming grin. "I don't know, Jimin-is chocolate involved?" Ha- let him remember that-

As he escorted her out of the dining room, his hand moving to the small of her back, he couldn't resist pressing his lips to the shell of her ear, trying to ignore the whirling feeling of his every cell. "Of course, Rosé."
She felt a burning sensation building up her throat to her cheeks. She felt it yet again,that  flutter.

What the hell is wrong with me?

A fire burned, low and crackling, in a pit perpendicular to the rear façade of the house, creating a glow that struggled not to be swallowed up by the night sky. Two low couches, all with square, dark pillows, faced one another, separated by a glow glass table, upon which currently rested two generous slices of chocolate cake, along with two tiny cups of black coffee.

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