You apply the bandage over the burn and check the edges to ensure it adheres to the good skin surrounding it and does not touch the burn itself, for you noticed it had started blistering.

"Emily, I, I ..." he stops as you lift your face to look at him.

"Hmm, what is it? Did I hurt you? I'm sorry if I did."

"I hurt right here," he says as he points to his chest over his heart.

You sheepishly glance over his chest, "I don't see a burn?"

 What is he talking about? Why does it hurt? I don't see any redness. You carefully look at his chest, leaning close to make sure there isn't another burn.

"My heart feels like it is going to burst. It's beating so rapidly, and I, I hurt right here." He says as he points to his lips. 

He can't stop. He wants you so badly. He knows you are unaware of just how sensual you biting your lower lip was. The cute way you bit your lip while concentrating has sent his control off the deep end.

You have no idea what effect you are having on him. Becoming very concerned that he may be hurt worse than initially thought, you wonder if you should call La or Yoongi to take him to the hospital.

"Did you get too close to the candles when you blew them out?" Your cute naivety makes him want you even more.

"My lips ache with a need to kiss you. May I, Emily?"

This is just like out of a romance movie. You nod slowly, and he steps closer to you, brushing your hair from one side of your face as he caresses your cheek. He leans down to kiss you as he steps closer, pressing you against the bathroom sink.

Before you get lost in his kiss, you feel his arousal and almost panic . . . almost.

He pulls you tightly against him and kisses you with more need. You slightly moan into his mouth, and he lifts his head and catches a breath to come in for a deeper kiss when he sees his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His eyes are wild with desire as he stands there half-naked, practically bending you backward over the sink counter. Oh my god, what am I doing!?

Suddenly, he pulls away, "I'm so sorry, Emily. Oh my god, I'm so sorry." He runs from the bathroom and out of your room.

Still immersed in the feeling of his kisses and what it was doing to your body, you lean against the counter and sigh. The burn cream tube you were holding is now empty, the cream squeezed out of it when he kissed you. You grab the towel and rub the cream off as you run after him.

"Jooni, don't go!' You limp down the hall as fast as you can, thinking he is leaving, only to see him at the kitchen sink, ringing out his burnt tie and blackened shirt.

He looks at you as you enter the kitchen. Your face is as red as his.

"I'm sorry, Emily, you must still be hurting, and I practically crushed you. I'm so sorry if I hurt you."

You place a comforting hand on his upper arm and sigh with relief that he hasn't left. Your heart almost stops when you feel the strength of his arm muscles under your hand.

"It's ok, I'm fine." Your body is betraying you, and you don't want to not touch him. You force yourself to remove your hand.

"Do you happen to have a shirt or something I can put on? I can't stay half naked like this in front of you."

Pausing as you think if you or La has anything he could wear, you think of something.

You reach to take an apron off the hook near the broom closet. "Here, you can wear this for now. I will put your shirt in the dryer, but I think the tie is a total loss."

Namjoon hands you his shirt puts the chef's apron over his head and ties the strings at the waist. That was when he noticed it was an alpaca wearing a chef hat and holding a spoon and whisk with the words 'Kiss The Cook' across the front.

"I'll put this in the dryer, and then we can eat dinner while finishing the movie."

He is still looking down at the apron and mumbles, "Okay."

You put the wet shirt in the dryer, forgetting that La used your dryer while hers was being repaired a couple of days ago, you set it for a timed dry, not noticing that the dryer was set on the high heat setting, you hurry out of the laundry room.

When you returned to the living room, you noticed Namjoon had set everything up. Plates, napkins, and utensils. He even placed couch pillows for you two to sit on. You smile at him as he holds up his hand for you to sit on the floor next to him.

After enjoying a quiet dinner and the rom-com finishes, you suggest, "We can sit out on the balcony while we wait for your shirt to dry." Smiling at Joon, you hope that pleases him.

Unlike Yoongi and Lanne's date, yours was going well, all things considered. . . 

"Shouldn't it be dry by now, Emily?" He looks at you, his brows furrowed in question.

"Oh!" you jump up, "Let me go check." He stands as well.

"No, I can do that. You take it easy on your injured leg. Where is the laundry room?"

You tell him where it is, and he removes his shirt from the dryer. He is in the laundry room and tries to put it on. But now it is too small. He can't button it up. "What the hell?" he struggles, trying to get the buttons to reach the button holes with no success.

Oh no, this was a dry-clean only shirt! Shit.

He never knew what would happen if something that said 'dry clean only' was put into a typical washer or dryer, but now he does. Embarrassed, he returns to the living room with shirt sleeves that are now too short and buttons he can't button—leaving his chest exposed.

Your hand flies to cover your mouth as it gapes open. Recovering quickly, you ask, "Oh my gosh, what happened!?"

He looks down at his shirt, trying to pull close the front of the shirt, but it won't reach, "It shrunk. Now it won't fit."

"Oh no. I'm so sorry. I didn't check the label!" You feel your face heat up and know you are blushing, but can't take your eyes off him. He is so cute trying to still button the shirt.

Placing your hand over his, you try to get him to stop pulling on the shirt. "Jooni, stop before you tear the shirt and then have even less to wear."

He sighs, "I'm so sorry, Emily; it seems my title of God of Destruction is still well deserved."

"No, no, it was an accident, and you didn't ruin the shirt. I did. I was the one who put it in the dryer without reading the laundry label."

"But I'm the one who burned the tie and scorched the shirt. I always mess things up." He sounds so disappointed in himself. It hurts your heart.

"Jooni, you didn't set your tie on fire. The burning candle did that. Now, I would like you to please stop blaming yourself. I shrunk your shirt."

That pulls a grin from him, "You didn't shrink my shirt; the dryer did."

You both start laughing.

You shyly look up, and as your eyes meet, you ask, "Do you want to sit on the balcony? The sun is about to set, and the city looks so pretty when the lights start coming on. We can sit on La's balcony. It has a better view of the city."

Blessed by his dimple smile, he takes your hand as you lead him out to your balcony and across to La's.

"She has a cushioned glider we can sit on." When you get to La's side of the balcony, you both sit on the glider. It is perfect for two people. He sits beside you, looking out across the city. 

The sun has started its descent; despite the dark clouds trying to block its light, it still manages to cast its light on the city buildings. Still glistening with rain, the glass office buildings softly reflect the sun's fading light on the city below. Shadows form along the streets and sidewalks as they fight for their place in the night. Car lights start to come on, and you watch them create a necklace of light as lines of cars leave along the city's freeway.

"Isn't it pretty, Jooni? I love sitting on the balcony to watch the day go to sleep and the night awaken."

He is more interested in watching you, So beautiful. He turns his head from looking at you to look out over the cityscape, agreeing with you. "It is beautiful." 

Just then, it starts to rain and mixed with the city's lights; it looks like diamonds falling from the sky. He wants to kiss you, but he hesitates after losing control earlier. But he finds himself following his body's lead.

You turn to him. "I love nights like this." He starts to lean toward you. 

He's going to kiss me! Distract, distract him.

You try to distract him with cake. You aren't sure you're ready for more kissing just yet, worried you will lose control of your feelings.

"Oh, we haven't had any cake. Do you want some?" 

He grins, "Oh yes, I want some." He sees your brows rise in question and adds, "Cake, I want cake."