Dara stuffed her belonging into a small bag and went to knock on Jiyong’s door. The door was unlocked. She quietly tipped toed up to his bed and pulled down the blanket he had over his face. He was still sleeping. Did he forget his promise? He was supposed to her to the airport. She didn’t know how to wake him up, so she grabbed a pen by the night stand and poked his forehead. Nothing. She then poked his chest with the pen. Nothing, he was still sleeping very soundly. Dara pulled up a chair, sat down and stared at Jiyong with a pondering expression. He looked almost…angelic in his sleep. She wanted to wake him up but didn’t have the heart to. Last night must have been hard for him…so maybe she shouldn’t interrupt his sleep. She stood up to leave but he grabbed one of her hands.

“Don’t leave.” He mumbled. Dara stopped.

“I like feeling your eyes on me.” Jiyong said grinning from ear to ear. He slowly opened his eyes and winked at her. Dara pulled the chair up and sat next to the bed.

“Do you feel better this morning?” She asked. He pulled her hand up close to his face and kissed it.

“I feel better now that I’m holding your hand.” Jiyong replied. Dara frowned, what was wrong with him?

“Why are you acting so strangely? Let go of my hand!” She shrugged off his hands.

“Now I don’t feel so good. I need your hands!” Jiyong tried to grab her hands again but she pulled the chair out of his reach.

“How are you really feeling?” Dara asked softly. Jiyong took a deep breath and then sighed loudly.

“Truth? I feel like . My best friend and his wife were shot last night and the assassin is still roaming the streets…I don’t know what to do if one or both of them don’t make it…”

“It’s not your fault.” Dara quickly assured him.

“I know it’s not my fault…but it was my party, my place, my responsibility…I should’ve paid more attention.” Jiyong groaned.

“It’s not your fault.” Dara repeated. Jiyong grabbed her hand again and held it in his.

“I feel good when I’m holding your hands…can I hold your hands?” He asked. Dara nodded briefly. How can you say no to that? Jiyong closed his eyes.

“Mr. Kwon…”

“Call me Jiyong or I will never let go of your hand!” he threatened.

“…Jiyong…are you still taking me back to Vietnam?” she asked. Jiyong sighed again and nodded.

“Let me rest for a few more minutes then we’ll leave. I’m going to Vietnam too.”

“W