A/N: I first wrote this in 2014. Recently, I was going back through some of my old fic and decided to finish this one, which I haven't touched since 2015. That being said, I've done major revisions. If you read it a long time ago, I suggest re-reading from the beginning! Thanks!

Part I

"Why did you do that, Kazuki?! You could have gotten arrested!"

"Kazuki" looks at her from the couch, and Tenten can tell that he is already over this scene. Still, he flawlessly delivers his line, pouring on the right amount of angst, "They wouldn't have arrested me—because I'm one of them."

"Cut!" calls the director.

Tenten watches her costar roll his eyes and get to his feet. She clenches her jaw in irritation. The director reviews the scene and approves it as his assistant signals for the next scene; a group of Tenten's costars amble over to the stage.

Tenten walks offstage and begins to head towards her dressing room. As usual, Neji lags behind, taking his time. She turns to him when she reaches the hallway, unable to keep her agitation to herself any longer. "You could have at least tried to act like you care," she snipes, eyes narrowing.

Neji looks at her and raises his eyebrows but says nothing. He's nothing if not consistent, Tenten thinks furiously. She watches as a small smirk settles at the corner of his mouth.

He stops and crosses his arms, appraising her. Tenten mirrors him, her foot tapping impatiently on the carpet. "Who says I don't care?" Neji asks. The angst from his voice gone, replaced by his characteristically soft and deep pitch.

Tenten glares at him and gestures wildly back to the stage down the hallway. "You totally blew off that last scene," she accuses.

Neji's smirk deepens, and he leans against the wall, considering her patiently. "I thought I delivered it the way it was written. No one had any complaints. Except for you, of course."

Tenten rolls her eyes and says offhandedly, "Well, my opinion should matter, since I deal with you the most."

Neji shakes his head at her, his mockery in such firm place that Tenten wants to smack it off his mouth. "This isn't about me," he says after a pause.

Tenten lifts an eyebrow in challenge. "Oh? Well then, enlighten me, what is it about, Hyuga?"

"This is about the writers giving you an eating disorder for the rest of the season."

Tenten clenches her fists, and she goes from lightly exasperated to livid in a space of two seconds. Without another word, she spins on her heel and storms away. She's still able to make out Neji's soft chuckle as she rounds the corner.

Tenten got hired for High School Crisis when she was twenty. She'd been a bright-eyed entertainer at that time, with several commercials and a made-for-television movie under her belt. A television teen drama series was her natural next step. But that had been three years ago.

Her character on the show was a classic good girl—good grades, modest clothes in a variety of pastels, a kind disposition. But none of that had been enough to resist "bad boy" Kazuki, AKA her costar, Neji Hyuga.

On television, Kazuki had experienced a myriad of high highs (his main source of income being from dealing drugs) and low lows (depression, overdosing, violence, etc., etc.). However, since beginning to date her character "Yori" at the end of the show's first season, he'd cleaned up and gone to rehab. Apparently, he was now working with the cops to bust up his previous drug ring—the writers were expecting it to be one of the biggest split-season shockers.

But Tenten had a bigger problem than Kazuki and Yori's season three storyline.

She stares at her reflection as she puts up her hair, still reeling from Neji's comment. Her character's predicament was no secret anymore—the writers had teased the remainder of season three's storyline just the other day. And what was going to happen to Yori? An eating disorder.

Tenten was angry enough to quit, but her contract wasn't up for renewal until the end of this season's shooting, in September. She broods, cursing Neji for bringing it up.

Though she and Neji's on-screen relationship was without a doubt one of the most dynamic on the show, their off-screen partnership looked a lot different.

Neji Hyuga was easily one of the most popular actors of his age range. Getting his start after being scouted at a school program when he was a child, he had only continued to grow in success (and good looks). His face was everywhere—magazine stands, billboards, and across television and movie screens alike.

But while Neji received the country's praise, Tenten seemed to be perpetually stuck in a supporting role. Not only did Neji rate higher on all the fan sites affiliated with the show, Tenten barely ranked at all amongst likability as an actress. She'd been desperate for the last six months, wanting to break into bigger roles, but each audition she went to ended with her being passed over for a more well-known actress. It was driving her crazy.

And now she was going to be forced to portray a glamorized version of a very serious disorder; it made her sick to her stomach. Tenten grits her teeth in frustration.

The thing that bothered her the most was that according to the rumor mill, Neji didn't even want to be an actor; he was just naturally good at it. While Tenten was unopposed to natural talent, she despised larger than life ego, which Neji had plenty of.

He doesn't even care about this show, Tenten thinks bitterly as she charges out of her room, freshly changed into her street clothes. As she heads to the parking lot, she fixates with increasing irritability from their earlier exchange. He could quit today, crush the whole country, and he would be completely fine with it.

By chance, she spots him on the way to the car idling for her. His hand is up, shielding his eyes from the sun. He turns and sees her, a phone clamped to his ear. Tenten pointedly ignores him.

As her car pulls away, she notices he's still watching. In a fit of anger, Tenten sticks her hand out the window and flips him off. With a self-satisfied smirk, she leans back into the seat, watching the glass glide up to divide them.

She doesn't see him again until the end of the week, at a studio party. He looks nice, dressed in a simple, low-key suit. Tenten absently smooths a hand over her dress—a cream chiffon skirt that's cropped at her knees. It's not her style, but like everyone else in the room, she has an image to maintain.

He catches her eye from across the room, but Tenten pretends not to notice him, going over to greet one of the studio makeup artists. A moment later, there is a tap on her shoulder, and a voice in her ear says, "I need to speak with you."

Tenten turns to stare at Neji in disbelief. He is already retreating, leading the way to the stairwell. She hesitates for a moment before following, her curiosity getting the better of her. When Tenten reaches the stairs, she sees Neji already halfway to the rooftop. "Come on," he calls down.

Compelled, Tenten obliges. He waits for her at the top, holding the roof door open for her to exit. It's a mild spring night, if not a little breezy. Tenten crosses her arms. "What do you want, Hyuga?"

Neji steps to the edge of the roof, scanning the street below. "I pulled some strings."

Tenten shakes her head, bemused. "Pulled some strings for what?"

"For whom," Neji corrects, glancing at her. "For you."

Tenten's forehead wrinkles. "What are you talking about?"

Neji steps back from the edge and faces her. "The writers will rewrite the part about giving Yori an eating disorder," he says.

Tenten lifts an eyebrow in confusion. "What makes you think they'll do that?"

"Because I asked them to," Neji answers simply, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

Tenten laughs. "You're not serious."

Neji tilts his head at her in consideration. A smile is itching along his mouth. "Why do you think that?" he asks her, interest in his voice.

"Because! You're just some star of a television show. Who are you to tell the writers what to do?"

"Well," Neji begins, smirking, "considering I've been in the business for so long, and I have such a large fan base, it can be easy to persuade people to my thinking—even writers."

Tenten hugs herself tighter, wondering what the odds are that this is some bizarre joke. But what reason would Neji have to drag her all the way up here if it were a scam—he would have wanted other people to see her embarrassed reaction, right?

"It took some convincing," continues Neji, "but after a lengthy discussion, as well as a few autographs and pictures, they could hardly say no."

"You're serious, aren't you?" says Tenten, disbelieving.

Neji shrugs again and looks out over the city's lit-up skyline. "It would mess with the little character development they've already given Yori. If they wrote that for her, it would blow up in their faces. The ratings would suffer."

Tenten shakes her head slightly in wonder. "Who are you?" she asks.

Neji looks back at her. "What?"

Tenten gestures to him. "This. What is this? You saved my character for me. Why?"

"I already told you. Yori's character development—"

Tenten waves this away in dismissal, staring hard at her costar. "Thank you, Neji. Really. I don't know what I can to do to express how grateful I am."

Neji walks over to her and grasps her hand. He makes eye contact with her as he curls her fingers into a fist. "You could start by keeping your rude gestures to yourself," he whispers, raising an eyebrow. He brushes past her and heads back downstairs to rejoin the party.

Tenten remains rooted to the spot, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

She decides to bring him coffee, because she quickly realizes that she won't ever be able to repay him for what he's done. But she will be damned if she doesn't try—even with something as small and insignificant as a coffee.

She finds him in his dressing room a week and a half later, preparing for their promotion pictures for the rest of the season. Kazuki's trademark leather jacket hangs off his chair. Neji is still in his street clothes.

"Here," she says, offering the drink to him.

Neji glances between the cup then back to her, before returning to getting ready. "No, thank you."

Tenten stares at him, affronted. "Why not?" she demands.

"I don't drink coffee."

"Oh," Tenten replies, sighing. She sinks into his makeup chair and sips the coffee she had meant for him. "What a shame."

She hears Neji emit a small chuckle from the back of his throat, and it brings a shy smile to her lips. She turns her attention to his dressing table, but it is absent of most of the products that line hers. On his, there is a taped down color-coded schedule and several collegiate-looking textbooks.

Tenten pulls one over to her and examines it. On the inside, Neji's name is inscribed in neat-looking print. She casts a glance at him—he is assessing the outfit they want him to wear for the shoot. "Are you taking college classes?" she asks, incredulous.

Neji's gaze flits to the book in her hands. Sheepishly, he nods.

"How did I not know this? How did you keep this away from the media?"

Neji comes and takes the book from her hands, flipping through the pages absentmindedly. "I have a very good publicist," he responds with a smirk.

"Clearly," Tenten retorts, shaking her head. "You've kept this from everyone. How do you even manage it?"

"Not everyone, just most people." Neji places the book back on the tabletop. "I have a very flexible schedule. I go to class when I have to, but otherwise I do the work and turn it in online."

"What are you studying?"

"Physics."

Tenten stares at him. "You're kidding."

Neji shakes his head. Her brow furrows. "Why are you studying science? Shouldn't you be studying theatre? Or literature?"

Neji shrugs and goes back to the outfit on the hanger. "I like science. Now, you should probably go get ready. We're first in line for couple shots."

Tenten leaves, sipping the coffee meant for Neji in bewilderment.

- two weeks later -

"Tenten, it's Shizune."

Tenten sinks onto her bed. She's only just gotten home from a full day of auditions. Her bones are filled with exhaustion, her mind muddled with pieces of dialogue and character analysis. "Hi," she tells her publicist. "What's up?"

"Neji Hyuga wants you as his date to some function this weekend."

Tenten stares at the ceiling, her mouth popping open in surprise. "What?"

"I know, weird, huh? He never takes dates to events usually, but I guess he's wanting to put on a good face for the show. He's ending his contract after the season is wrapped, you know."

Tenten sits up. "What? No, I didn't know that! He's ending his contract?"

"Yes, Iruka told me this morning when he called with Neji's request. Anyway, we're getting ahead of ourselves. It's on Saturday, and you're free. Do you want to go?"

Tenten taps her index finger against her phone, trying to figure out her costar's motive. "Yeah, I'll go," she tells Shizune, eyes narrowing.

The event is a ritzy affair recognizing a director that Tenten has only heard of and never met. Apparently, Neji had worked with him when he was a little younger.

They sit facing each other in the chauffeured car. Tenten analyzes Neji. Unperturbed, he stares back, drinking from a bottled water. It had been everyone's idea that they should arrive together, since Neji had formally asked Tenten be his date. Tenten still hadn't decided if this was a press stunt they weren't telling her about.

"Why are you staring?" Neji asks, tilting his head at her.

Tenten decides that she likes this gesture of his—it makes her think that he's inclining his ear to catch her every word. "I'm trying to figure out why you put me in this situation with you."

Neji's expression remains flat. "Let me know when you come to a conclusion," he says, looking out the window of the car.

"You could tell me," Tenten replies, pushing her bangs to the side. Her hands come away sticky with hairspray.

"Ah, but you didn't ask," Neji responds, raising an eyebrow at her.

Tenten sighs. "Why did you ask me?"

"I can't take my onscreen love interest out on a date without a reason? What is this world coming to?" Neji says, his tone ten layers of sarcasm. He sobers and gives her a more straightforward answer, "Good publicity."

Tenten rolls her eyes and leans back into the plush leather of the seat. "I knew it." She eyes him coldly. "Shizune told me you're bailing."

"Bailing is a bad choice of words. I'm making a creative decision."

"You're abandoning me," Tenten goes on, pressing her fingers to her forehead. She's getting a headache.

Neji gazes at her. "I'm not abandoning you. Your contract is up the same time mine is. Quit."

"I can't just quit. I don't have your kind of leverage." Or experience, she thinks to herself.

Neji taps his finger against the armrest, lifting an eyebrow. "You have more control over your circumstances than you think."

"Not like you," Tenten says bitterly, crossing her arms.

Neji shakes his head. "That's not true. You're a good actress, which is why the studio wants to keep you. But it's up to you if you let them."

Tenten looks at him, mystified. "What do you—?"

"We're here," interrupts Neji.

And so they are. Tenten is blinded by the camera flashes and she hasn't even left the car yet.

"Come here," Neji says. Tenten scoots beside him, and Neji gives her a measured once-over before opening the door.

When they arrive inside, Tenten is still reeling from the paparazzi. The press had had a fit with she and Neji showing up together; it is their first public outing that is not associated with the show or the studio. "We're going to be all over the Internet in a matter of seconds," she comments as Neji escorts her to their table.

He doesn't answer, pulling out her chair for her and taking the seat to her right. He greets the other invitees at their table and makes introductions. The wife of a well-known writer strikes up a conversation with them and keeps Tenten talking until the lights dim. A short introduction is given, then a brief short film is shown, documenting the honorary director and his films. Waiters coast by, bringing dinner to each table as music plays and a throng of industry people laud the director.

When dessert is being passed around, Neji rises from his chair. Tenten shoots him a look. "Where are you going?"

Neji raises an eyebrow and gestures to the stage. "I'm up."

Tenten gapes at him, and Neji walks away, imparting a sly grin as he turns his back to her.

True enough, when the lights go down again, Neji is standing onstage holding a microphone. "Good evening, everyone. I'm Neji Hyuga, and I had the great privilege of working with Mizuki several years ago on a film called The King's Brother, which won many accolades and awards. During the filming, this revered director treated me with such kindness and favor. He taught me so much about film and acting and communication. Our friendship has continued over the years, and I am honored I can call him a dear friend of mine. Thank you, sempai, for everything." Neji bows deeply to the director, who comes up on stage, and hugs him.

Tenten is absolutely confounded.

Later, as they're getting into the car, the cameras flashing in their face, Tenten asks, "Who are you?"

Neji shuts the door behind them, looking at her quizzically. "What are you talking about?"

Tenten gestures to the building as the car pulls away. "That?"

Neji attempts to hide his obvious satisfaction. "What?"

Tenten shakes her head, leaning back in her seat.

"Mizuki is a good friend of mine," Neji says simply. "I was asked to pay tribute, so I did."

Tenten stares at him. "You're a lot different than what I thought."

"Have I risen or fallen in your esteem?" Tenten tries to hide a smile, and Neji smirks, taking that as her answer. "People see what they want to see, Tenten," he says, sighing.

"Tell me, then. Who's the real Neji Hyuga?"

In the dim lighting of the car, Neji considers her, tapping a finger against his knee in thought. "Honestly?"

Tenten nods, watching him carefully.

They pass a streetlight outside, and for a second it illuminates Neji. His features are pensive, an eyebrow raised, his gaze trained on the street outside. "Most people don't know him," he says softly. "The real Neji Hyuga doesn't get to do half the things he wants because it doesn't fit the image that the public has constructed for him." Neji looks back to her, frowning.

"You didn't answer my question."

Neji almost smiles. "I'm fairly good at evading questions I'm not sure I want to answer."

Tenten sighs in frustration.

"What about you? Who are you really?" Neji poses to her, his gaze intent.

Tenten rolls her eyes. "Just someone trying to play the game."

"In my experience, playing the game never gets you anywhere you really want to be."

"But we're different, Neji. You're already a star. It's not the same for me. I've had to work three times as hard as you to get where I am today."

"I don't disagree with you."

Tenten glares at him. "You're so—I don't know—the person sitting in front of me is not the same one I see on set. I've worked with you for three years, and the extent of our personal conversations have all occurred in the last few weeks. Not only do I not know anything about you, neither does anybody else. How sad is that?"

"I wouldn't put all the blame on your shoulders," Neji murmurs. "I don't like to put myself in a position of having to get personal."

"What are you talking about? You do personal interviews all the time." She pauses. "Are you afraid that people won't like you for who you actually are?"

"I don't care about what people think of me. What I do care about is boundaries."

"Boundaries," Tenten muses, studying him.

Neji tilts his head, staring back at her. Tenten watches him calculate. After a moment, he leans forward, and Tenten can see him clearly in the dim light of the car. "Fame is like trying to control a fire. If you set it within certain limits and watch it carefully, then there's little chance it will get out of control. But if you're not careful, it'll easily burn down everything in its path. The more people you let into your life, the harder it gets to control who knows what. I like to keep my circle small."

"And that's why you've been antisocial for three years?"

"I'm not antisocial."

"Neji," Tenten says in exasperation, "you don't talk to anyone. You don't hang out on set. You ignore every cast invite to anything, unless it's mandatory by the studio. You keep everyone at a distance, including me."

"Tenten, you've made it very clear over the years what you think of me."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Neji sits back, and his face is cast again into darkness. "You think I'm an over-privileged and spoiled child star who's never done an honest day's work," Neji states.

Tenten's forehead wrinkles in confusion. "No, I don't," she protests.

She hears him laugh a little. "Are you certain? The only times you ever talk to me is when you're upset with me for not saying a line the way you think it should be delivered, or when we're at press events and it's required. Your dislike is apparent."

"I don't. . . I wouldn't say dislike," Tenten mutters, fiddling with her dress.

She can feel Neji's smile, rather than see it. "I'm not as bad as you think," Neji responds after a moment. "I think you've misinterpreted me."

Tenten is silent for the rest of the ride home. When the car stops, Neji opens the door and gets out to walk her into the lobby of her apartment building. Tenten pauses, not wanting to go up yet. They consider each other quietly.

"It's not polite to stare," Neji informs her softly.

Tenten glares at him. "Then stop staring," she retorts.

Neji sighs, and glances around the lobby. Tenten watches his face, wondering why she feels nervous. "Thank you," she says.

Neji looks back at her, his brow furrowed.

"For tonight. And for speaking to the writers. Thank you," she clarifies.

He turns away with a nod, and Tenten goes inside. Before she reaches her door, her phone buzzes with a text. It's from Neji: Don't go on the Internet—save yourself the trouble.

Though this tempts her to look, Tenten decides to heed Neji's warning. She enters her empty apartment and locks the door, wandering into her living room. Her phone buzzes again.

Also, you looked lovely tonight.

Tenten feels a blush dust her cheeks.

DATING RUMORS SWIRL AS NEJI & COSTAR SEEN TOGETHER ATTENDING EVENT

The next time Tenten walks out her building, she's swamped by paparazzi asking if she's in a relationship with Neji Hyuga. Tenten says nothing and calls Shizune when she gets in the car. Before she can say a word, her publicist says, "I know; I'm already handling it."

She frowns at the men with cameras crowding her car. "They're all around my building, Shizune."

"I know, Tenten. I'm taking care of it."

Tenten sighs and runs her fingers through her bangs, already tired. Her plan for the day is to attend some auditions, though she feels off from the paparazzi attention. Later that afternoon, she is waiting to be called in when her phone buzzes with another text from Neji. She hadn't responded to his text from the other night, unsure of what to say.

Are you getting hounded too?

Tenten smiles. Yes, as soon as I walked out of my building. You?

I was at an interview and they ambushed me. How are you doing?

Fine. It's annoying, that's all.

He texts back, I guess it is my fault. Sorry.

Tenten pauses, hearing her name called. She goes in for her audition, doing her best to deliver the lines faithfully, despite her disgruntlement over the paparazzi and the growing news story. When she exits, another text from Neji is waiting for her.

How can I make it up to you?

Tenten bites her lip, thinking. That's okay—you don't have to. It is what it is.

Do you regret being my date the other night?

Even if I did, I'd never say so.

On the way to her next audition, he responds, There's no need to be coy, Tenten. Tenten presses a hand to her mouth to hide her smile.

A few days pass before she finally gives in to the temptation to talk to him again. What are you doing?

I'm in class. You?

Reading scripts. How do you go to class? Wouldn't all the students take pictures of you?

I don't meet with other students. I have private lessons with my professors. Saves me time and a headache. And pictures.

Special treatment, much?

The perks of celebrity.

Tenten bites her lip, unsure of how to keep the conversation going. Mildly disappointed, she sets her phone down and returns to reading.

A half hour later, he texts again: Do you want to get lunch?

Tenten immediately responds, Yes.

She meets Neji at an inconspicuous restaurant near the outskirts of the city, close to his university, far away from the prying eyes of paparazzi. It is after lunch hour, and the restaurant is hardly crowded, though it looks like it sees little business regardless.

They order and Neji asks, watching the waiter leave, "Why haven't you thought about going to school?"

Tenten swirls her straw in her water, shrugging. "Who has the time? I have a weird schedule."

Neji gestures to himself. "Didn't stop me."

Tenten rolls her eyes. "Well, it would appear that you can do anything."

Neji dismisses this with a wave of his hand. "What's the real reason?" he presses.

Tenten hums, thinking. "I just—school's not for me, you know? I don't want to do anything other than acting, and you only get better at that by experience. I've never had a need for a degree." She runs her fingertips across her glass, hoping he didn't think she was stupid.

"I understand," Neji says, inclining his head to her. "Many people don't go, in our line of work. My parents never went."

Tenten cocks her head at him, curious. "Your parents have passed on, right?" she inquires softly.

Neji nods, noting the interest on her face. "I've lived with my uncle and his family since they passed away. They're all educated. My uncle made it clear early on that he expected the same from me."

"Even with all your success? You've done so much already, though."

Neji's mouth is tight. "Not enough, I'm afraid." He lifts his eyebrows. "But it doesn't matter. I like going to university, so it's all worked out."

She shakes her head at him. "Seems like you have everything figured out, Neji Hyuga."

Neji smirks. "That's what I want you to think."

It is easy, after that. Following lunch, Neji leads her on a discreet tour of his nearby school, though they spend an inordinate amount of time dodging second glances from curious students.

By mid-afternoon, Tenten drags Neji to a bookstore, where she drinks coffee as she watches him peruse the shelves. Upon leaving the bookstore, they take a leisurely walk back to campus through a secluded park. They talk about nothing and everything—from growing up in the spotlight to five-year plans to if they prefer spicy food to sweet.

This carries them effortlessly to dinner at another remote restaurant, where they discuss the varying pros and cons of working on a serial television show. They spend the car ride back to her building in heated discussion over comparing their favorite films. There are still paparazzi lingering outside Tenten's building, so Neji escorts her to the back entrance, deciding to walk her to her door to make sure she arrives without being harassed.

Their pace is slow as they reach her front door. Exhaling, Neji leans against the wall. Tenten fiddles with her keys, hesitating to say goodbye. "Thanks, for today," she says, glancing up at him.

"You don't have to thank me," he replies. "I enjoyed spending time with you."

Tenten purses her lips. "Are you sure? It only took us three years to do this. What stopped us from doing it before?"

Neji shifts, his eyes leaving her to glance around the hallway. "You keep saying that we've known each other for three years, which is true. But neither of us has been very . . . intent on communicating. I've been standoffish, and not good to work with." His focus finds his way back to her. "I'm regretting that now."

Tenten moves a little closer to him. "Why is that?"

Neji stares at her guardedly, no trace of a smirk to be seen. "Isn't it obvious?" he asks.

Tenten is silent, heart thudding in her chest.

"I want to kiss you," Neji says, waiting.

"Okay," Tenten says, her fingers twitching.

A corner of his mouth lifts, a fleeting look of embarrassment crossing his face. "May I?"

Tenten feels herself nod. Neji's hand gently comes to rest on her neck, moving up to grasp her chin. He places his lips against hers, and Tenten rests her hands on his chest.

She's kissed him multiple times before, of course. Playing a television couple meant that romantic showmanship was something they'd had to do early on in working with each other. But they had never kissed like this before.

As Kazuki, Neji had always been the one to initiate first. Kazuki kissed aggressively, with his hands gripping her clothes, his tongue pushing into her mouth. Passionately, possessively, is what the script always instructed. For her part, Yori was tame and innocent—all pecks on the cheek and hands on the shoulders and soft giggles.

But this kiss is so different from all the ones they have shared onscreen. Neji kisses her slowly, savoring the way her lower lip shifts between his lips, moving with care and purpose. His thumb rests on the pulse point of her neck, measuring how fast her heart is beating. Tenten presses closer to him, nipping him lightly with her teeth. For a brief second, she slides her tongue into his mouth before Neji gently pulls away.

Tenten looks down at the floor, instantly self-conscious. His hand is cradling the nape of her neck, and she can only hear their breathing until Neji releases a soft laugh. She chances a glance at him. His expression is surprised but not disappointed. He says, flushed, "There's this physics principle that an electric current produces a magnetic field. That's what this feels like to me—magnetic."

Tenten looks at him, trying not to laugh. "That's the nerdiest thing I've ever heard."

Neji considers this for a second, before kissing her again, murmuring, "Well, I never claimed to be romantic."

He leans his head against hers, eyes closed. Tenten watches him, absently biting her bottom lip. She wants to kiss him again.

After a moment, Neji cracks an eye open, inscrutable. "Thank you," he says. He straightens, his hand slipping away from her neck to fall at his side. Tenten suppresses a shiver. His mouth lifts into a half smile. "Think the paparazzi are still out front?"

"I would go out the back, just to be safe."

Neji nods and waves goodbye, heading down the hallway. Tenten's eyes stay on him until the elevator doors close.

She enters her apartment, head buzzing. She showers and watches a little bit of television, but when her face appears on the small screen, she turns it off. As she settles into bed, she finally gives into the thoughts racing through her brain and texts him.

This is serious, isn't it?

Before she falls asleep, he responds, though Tenten doesn't really require an answer. She already knows.

Yes, it is.