“Sure,” says the woman, and replaces the towels with two neat shirts and bottoms resembling soft gray pajamas, along with two small towels and keys. “Lockers are right around the corner,” she adds, before turning her gaze back to the computer. Kisa scoops up the clothing, while Seokga grabs the towels and keys. There’s a bemused sort of amusement radiating down the bond as they walk past the reception desk, down a small corridor leading to two changing rooms—one for women and one for men.

“Well,” says Seokga as he gives her a key and she hands him the clothing, “this is unexpected.”

“You need to calm down. I thought this might help, that’s all.” Her cheeks are burning again. “We’re just doing the dry spa. I’ll meet you out here in a moment.” Ducking quickly into the female changing room, Kisa shakes her head to clear it as she slips out of her shoes and replaces her scrubs with the spa-wear. She sets them neatly down in the wooden locker, uses the key, and takes a moment to breathe.

It is, she thinks, really not a good sign that the thought of seeing Seokga naked has gotten her so frazzled. With complete concentration, Kisa stops herself from thinking about his bum. Instead, she attempts to gather those thoughts and dump them unceremoniously into the very back of her filing-cabinet mind. Unfortunately, a few flutter out through the drawer’s crack.

Kisa closes her eyes and counts to ten. Then twenty. Then fifty-four. Then sixty-seven.

Sufficiently cooled down (and rather hoping the red thread kept those thoughts of hers private), Kisa meets Seokga back in the corridor, the stone floor cold on her feet. It’s odd, seeing him out of his dark, designer garments…Almost like seeing him naked. Her face feels like it’s on fire.

Stop that.

Kisa mentally recites boring textbook passages as she leads him farther into the spa. The marble floor gives way to warmer wood, and the ceiling expands, making room for the varying levels and the wooden staircases leading to them. In this first large communal area, small pools of water, decoratively lined with potted plants, burble softly. A white formation, rather like a very large onion made of white stone, sits near one of these small pools. Kisa makes a beeline to it, followed by Seokga. The wet areas will be deeper into the spa: This is just a simple sauna, and as Kisa steps into it, she’s happy to see that it’s empty, save for them.

Her feet sink into the salt piled on the floor as she makes her way to a wooden bench. Seokga takes the one opposite her, leaning his head against the slightly sweating wall. It’s certainly warm in here, Kisa thinks, focusing on not looking at the strong, exposed column of Seokga’s neck. She gathers her curls into a high bun, letting her own neck breathe.