The gallery felt impossibly still, the kind of quiet that made every small sound feel magnified.
Keigh walked slowly beside Nara, letting her take in the canvases, the subtle textures, the hidden details. He didn't speak at first, didn't need to. Her presence alone was enough to fill the space with tension.
"You notice things," he said finally, breaking the silence. His voice was soft, low, almost hesitant.
"I try," Nara replied, not meeting his eyes. She wasn't sure why her pulse had sped up.
Keigh stopped in front of a painting, abstract, dark, chaotic, yet restrained. He gestured to it.
"Some people see just the colors. The shapes. But the chaos, the tension, it's all there if you look closer."
Nara's gaze followed his, absorbing the strokes, the shadows. "It's intense," she admitted quietly. "But beautiful, in a strange way."
"Like some people," Keigh said, glancing at her, eyes darkening slightly.
Nara's breath hitched. She wanted to tease him, to deflect, but the intimacy of the space made her hesitate.
Keigh took a step closer, too close to be casual, too careful to be threatening. "You can't pretend you don't feel it," he murmured.
"Feel what?" Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
"The pull between us," he said. "The way it's been since that night."
She swallowed. The gallery, the art, even the shadows outside, all of it shrank until it was just them.
"I… I don't know," she admitted, voice unsteady. "It's complicated."
"Complicated," he echoed softly, almost a question, almost a confession.
The tension between them thickened, palpable in the small space. Nara's hand brushed against a sculpture, trying to steady herself, trying to breathe.
Keigh's gaze didn't waver. "We don't have to define it," he said quietly. "Not yet. Just… feel it. That's enough for now."
Her lips parted, almost to protest, almost to speak, but no words came. Instead, she nodded slightly, and he took that as permission to stay near her, close enough for warmth, not close enough to cross the line.
They moved together through the gallery, silent except for the occasional footstep, each aware of the other's presence in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying.
Outside, the world continued in chaos, royal news, gossip, spies, but in this room, in this moment, it didn't exist.
It was just Nara and just Keigh. And the tension of everything they weren't saying, lingering in the quiet between them.
---
Nara lingered in front of a vibrant abstract painting, studying it like she could decipher its secrets. Keigh stood behind her, arms crossed, watching her more than the art.
"You stare at them long enough, you start to see yourself in them," he said softly.
"Do I?" she replied, glancing at him over her shoulder. "I hope I don't look as messy as that one." She gestured at the canvas, chaotic swirls of dark blue and crimson.
"Messy?" Keigh raised an eyebrow. "I'd say… intriguing. Like someone who knows exactly what they want but pretends not to."
Nara chuckled, shaking her head. "You sound like you know people too well, Mr. Dynamite."
"I'm just observant," he replied smoothly, taking a step closer. "Careful though, observe me too much, and I might start noticing things about you."
Her pulse skipped. "Oh really?" she said, trying to keep her tone light, teasing. "And what might you notice?"
Keigh smirked, just a hint of mischief in his eyes. "That you lingered in the gallery longer than anyone should. That you pick details no one else sees. That you have a dangerously distracting smile."
Nara rolled her eyes, but couldn't stop the smile tugging at her lips. "Distracting, huh? I thought I was being subtle."
"You're terrible at subtle," he said, stepping just close enough for her to feel the warmth radiating from him. "But somehow, I like it."
Nara laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You make it sound like a crime."
"Maybe it should be," he said softly, watching her closely. "Dangerously enjoyable."
A beat passed, the tension lingered but softened, folded into something warmer, playful, and slightly electric.
Then Nara pointed to another painting, tilting her head. "Fine. You're observant. But can you explain this one?"
Keigh followed her gaze. "Hmm… chaotic colors. Bold strokes. Someone impatient with rules." He looked at her, eyebrow quirked. "Kind of like someone I know."
Nara laughed outright this time, nudging him lightly. "Careful, Mr. Dynamite. You might just start revealing too much about yourself."
He grinned. "Maybe I want to."
For a few heartbeats, the gallery held only their laughter, their quiet teasing, the soft footsteps echoing on polished floors, and the unspoken promise of moments like this stolen, playful, and theirs alone.
Outside, the shadow of the spy lingered, unnoticed. But inside, Nara and Keigh existed in a little bubble where nothing else mattered, yet.