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‘Where is everyone?’ Juniper wondered as they stepped back into the museum hall.

Where people had been passing between exhibitions around the walkways and staircases before, it was now completely empty save for them. Her first feeling was panic: she’d left Tilly with Owen alone, and she wouldn’t be happy. She took out her phone, which didn’t make her feel any better. The time said 8.25pm. Twenty-five minutes after closing time.

She showed her screen to Aiden, aghast at how quickly time had slipped away in the viewing room.

Instead of mirroring her worry, he snickered, a fact that only served to annoy her. She nudged him roughly. ‘This isn’t funny! We might be locked in!’

‘Locked in a museum? Oh, no. How terrible,’ he deadpanned.

‘Haven’t you ever watchedNight at the Museum?’ She planted her hands on her hips. ‘I don’t want to get eaten by a T-rex!’

His frown told her he clearlyhadn’twatched the movie, which was just another red flag on his long list of them. Not that she was paying any notice,clearly, since she’d just given him a blow job in a public place instead of ditching him like she’d intended.

Instead of paying notice to her worry, he tugged her towards another exhibition room by the hand. ‘Let’s make the most of it. There’s a gallery full of Chinese ceramics I think you’ll love.’

‘Aiden.’ Juniper looked around hesitantly, but she didn’t have time to voice her worries. He shushed her, pulling her behind the nearest pillar as the sound of clicking heels ricocheted over marble floors. It was the curator from before who had asked Aiden about his internship, heading out of the mythology exhibition room and down the steps. She didn’t miss the way Aiden’s body stiffened against her, the way his arm curled tighter around her waist.

It took her too long to wonder why they were hiding from one of the only people who might be able to let them out. ‘We can’t just stay here.’ And yet she whispered it anyway, only pulling away so she could face him.

As tempting as the idea of sneaking around was, what if they got in trouble? Or worse, what if they remained locked in until morning? If she wasn’t in her pyjamas in approximately an hour’s time, she would cry. It had been another long day, and the grime of her work shift still clung to her.

‘C’mon, Juni. This is something we would have dreamed of in high school, isn’t it?’

He was right, and she hated that he knew it. As a kid, she’d always imagined having a sleepover in a place like this, the thickness of history wrapped around her in the eerie darkness.There was magic to be alone in a place that usually brimmed with people.

Or almost alone. The curator wasn’t the only one still around. Below, two security guards conversed as they prepared to head home, and she heard the scuffle of more footsteps nearby. They could so easily get caught.

Then again, they could have gotten caught in the viewing room, too.

Her stomach swooped, the glittering mischief in Aiden’s eyes difficult to say no to.

‘Just for a little while.’ He tugged her again. This time, she let him.

They ducked, creeping all the way to the other side of the museum with his hand in hers: a silent promise they’d be fine. She was starting to believe it. A thrill shot through her when he put his fingers to his lips again, and they listened as steps came and went not too far away. When it was safe, they dashed the last few inches towards the ceramics gallery, Juniper’s heart racing – and then stopping altogether when they made it inside.

The displays were enchanting, and her fears fell away as soon as she soaked in the porcelain vessels hidden behind glass cases. She was awed by the intricacy of the patterns, finding each piece had been shaped different from the last. Everything from vases sculpted in 200adto plates made this century were on display. She even found some mythological beings hand-painted on a set of china: dragons, phoenixes, foxes that could change shape.

‘I can’t imagine being talented enough to create something this good,’ Juniper confessed. ‘And they didn’t even have the same tools we do. Can you imagine?’

She hadn’t even realised that her hand was still in Aiden’s, not until the pad of his thumb smoothed over the back of her hand lightly.

‘They’re fascinating,’ he agreed. ‘Makes me feel a bit silly about not knowing what to make in class. There are so many options I hadn’t considered, so many vessels I didn’t even know about.’

She stepped closer to him, for once, the ground even between them. If she could stay here, she would never feel lost with her clay again. And never lost with herself, either, because his presence kept her upright, steady.

A wave of emotion rolled over her: this was why she’d come here. To feel her love of art thrumming through her veins, and to educate herself so that, one day, she could create something just as beautiful.

With the world so quiet, she could finally focus on that. She often didn’t even realise just how loud everything was until it stopped, but she’d been fighting through crowds at the exhibit earlier. Taking deep breaths when handbags dug into her side or families started discussing dinner plans too loudly. Aiden had been her escape, and she had a feeling she was his. Whatever he’d meant by not being well at Elmington last year seemed to haunt him beyond recognition, and all she’d wanted was to bring him back to the present.

She shouldn’t have cared. She didn’t want to. But her body had a mind of its own, and it was tied to his somehow. She would have to stop it,eventually, but Aiden was one of the only good things she’d stumbled across here. Whether she liked it or not, he’d made her a better potter, and their evolving project was proof.

Next term, she promised herself. She’d start fresh next term. Put some distance between them, focus on her studies.

‘What’s happening in that pretty, terrifying head of yours?’ he asked, breaking the silence. ‘I don’t like it when you’re quiet. I’m worried you’re plotting my murder.’

She gave a small smile, shifting to view the next display. ‘Nah. Too much work. I was just thinking about our project,’ she lied.

‘I think we’re going to make something really fucking great, Hodge. You and me, we’re good at that. Even if you hate to admit it.’