"What time is it?"

"You're not supposed to ask that, remember?"

We'd made this rule around 4 a.m., when it was dark and still had a while until daybreak. Now, though, two hours and change later, the sky was turning lighter and purple, the stars fading even as I tried to keep track of them. Morning was here.

And we were where we'd started, just below the hotel, on the sand. After finishing our muffin and coffee, we'd walked back along the boardwalk, then the narrow main road of Sangya, passing a couple of blinking streetlights and only a handful of cars. When the hotel sign had appeared in front of us, I'd wanted to keep walking, going as far in the other direction as we could. But Jongsuk's dad was leaving at 8 a.m. sharp for the long drive back to their house, just on the outskirts of Sangya. So instead, we went to the beach, where we found a row of folded lounges, took one, and curled up together.

I'd never felt so close with anyone, ever. Maybe this was because of what happened earlier, beneath the pier. My lips had been sticky with fruit and chocolate, Jongsuk's breath sugar-sweet coffee as he eased me back into the damp, cool sand. I'd expected to be nervous my first time, and never would've thought it have happened like this. But as he slipped my dress of my shoulders, then eased up the skirt, I'd found myself arching up to meet him as if I'd known every move ahead of time and had only to do them. He'd asked if I was sure so many times after sliding on the that I finally covered his mouth with my own to silence him. It hurt a bit, which I'd expected, and I'd cried after, which I had not. We stayed there for a long while, the wind blowing sand across us now and then, my knees pulled to my chest, my head on his shoulder. For the first time in hours, we didn't talk, and in that silence I heard everything else I needed to.

Now, in his arms, facing the water, I could smell salt on his shirt and beneath it was the slight tinge of cologne, as well as sweat. It would only be matter of time before someone came along, walking with their dog or kid, making it clear that the beach, and the night, were no longer ours alone. Thinking this, I squeezed my eyes close, again willing time to stop. Like the game Jongsuk played with his friends, striking a deal - I would've given anything for a few more hours.

A seagull called overhead, flying. Somewhere a car horn beeped.

"One half and a half," Jongsuk said, right above my ear. I turned, looking up at him. In daylight I was noticing new things: the freckle on his chin, his eyes are monolid, the little bit of a stubble already coming in. "That's how long the drive from the beach to my house."

"That's not so bad."

"When you come," he told me, shifting. "I'll take you to WithJS, where they have the best bibimbap and limeade. And to the Guanyin of Nanshan, which is pretty much the only exciting thing besides the beaches."

"More exciting than limeade?"

"I know, it's hard to believe," he agreed.

"And when you come to Gwangju," I replied, running a finger down the buttons of his shirt, "I take you to Caffe Soo for famous coffees and the Nation First Love."

"Nation First Love?"

"It's a sculpture right outside this building downtown. The woman's a realtor or something? It's huge, with these crazy fabrics."

"Wow. That's better than our Guanyin of Nanshan for sure."

"I can't wait," I said.

"Me neither."

With every silence now, I was more aware of the passing of time.

"I'm so glad I left the wedding and came down here last night," he said. I couldn't decide if I wanted to close my eyes and just listen to him, or keep them open so I could have him in my sight as long as possible.

"Not as glad I am," I replied, as he kissed my hair. "For once, I really did do something epic."

He laughed: I'd told him about Gayeon's directive, of course. I felt life I'd told him everything. "I think that's the first time I've been referred to in those terms."

"But not the last. At least as long as I'm around."

"Oh, you'll be around." He slid his arm to wrapped around my waist. "Don't worry about that."

I heard it, then: the opening, bouncy notes of that same AOA song. It seemed like days ago he'd shared that story with me, not hours, and I wished I'd enjoyed having so much still ahead while I had the chance. The ring of a phone was yet more proof of the intrusion of the world, even if it did have a nice beat.

"My dad," Jongsuk said, answering it. "Hello? Yeah, I'm up. Nah, couldn't sleep so I came down to the beach."

I loved that I was a secret. I'd remember that later.

"Let's just grab something on the way. I'll meet you in the lot at eight." A pause. "Because that's what we said last night."

Reflexively, I closed my eyes, curling more tightly against him.

"I'm not ready to go yet," he said, the words reverberating in me. "Seven thirty, then."

A pause. Another seagull flew over us, squawking.

"Fine. Okay. Yeah. See you."

He hung up. I didn't want to ask, but anyone could tell when you bargained and lost. "How soon?" I said quietly.

He was quiet. "Thirty-five minutes."

I opened my eyes, lifting my head, and moved so I was over him, looking down to his face. "I don't want you to go."

"I don't want to go." He reached up, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. "But it's a long drive, and he's ready."

I gulped, then tried to smile. "I'm going to hate that AOA song even more now. It's like she took you away from me."

"Hey, don't hate on AOA," he said. "It's good song!"

"But not the one that made you cry," I pointed out.

He reached up, taking the finger I'd extended to his chin and grabbing it. "That's between you and me, Su. I trust you."

I smiled. "I won't let you down."

"You never could," he said, so easily that it made the tears well up in my eyes. "Hey. Don't cry. You know I'm easily emotional."

"I'm sorry," I said, wiping my free hand over my face. "This has been great. I don't want to end it on a bad note."

"End?" He sat up. "Nothing's ending here, at least not for me. This is just a pause, until we're together again."

"To see Guanyin of Nanshan and have limeade," I managed to say.

"And drink coffees with the Nation First Love," he added.

With that, I was sure I would lose it, and probably would have if he hadn't leaned in closer to me, kissing me long and hard, his fingers pressed against my back. I'd never felt so happy and sad at once, the absolute connection of two opposing emotions, and together they made my heart full enough to feel like it might break. When we finally pulled apart from each other, I was crying.

"Don't," he said, then swallowed, looking past me. "We'll talk all the time. And text, and make plans right away to see each other again. Like, today."

"Okay," I said, barely managing to talk.

"We will," he said, thinking I was doubting this, but I wasn't. I never doubted him. There just wasn't enough time.

I reached over to his other wrist, tilting his watch. It was 6:46. "You should probably go."

He ran his hand through his hair, then cleared his throat but didn't say anything. A woman with two kids, one in a bathing suit, was coming down the beach toward us now, a cup of coffee in her hand.

"Walk me up?" he said.

I got to my feet, picking up my shoes from the sand beside the chair as Jongsuk stood as well and found his own. Then we started toward the steps that led to the hotel. He was holding my hand, our fingers entwined. Even in motion, I wanted to be as close to him as possible.

I didn't put on my shoes after climbing the last step, or even when we circled the pool to the hotel entrance. Instead, I waited until the last possible moment, standing in front of the doors there, before sliding my feet into the straps and buckling them. The night had been barefoot, and the night was over. As Jongsuk shook out his socks, then put on his own shoes, a housekeeper carrying a load of towels came out the door, glancing at us with brows raised. Some stories tell themselves.

We were halfway to the lobby elevators when I realized we might really be about to say good-bye. When I slowed my steps, he said, "I'm just going to get my stuff. I'll come back down and we'll go together. Okay?"

The relief I felt hearing this was extremely great; if only a short one. I nodded as he leaned in, kissing my forehead. Then the elevator came and he stepped in, smiling at me just before the doors closed.

I walked over to the lobby bathroom, pushing the heavy door open and going inside. When I saw myself in the mirror, I laughed: my hair was wild and tangled, my lips swollen from kissing, the straps of my dress tied crookedly, one higher than the other. As I reached up, trying to smooth my hair, a small piece of grass dislodged itself from somewhere, falling into the sink in front of me. I reached down, picking it up, then turned it in my fingers slowly one way, then another. This is what it will feel like when he's gone, I told myself, but the thought was too big. Not yet.

Back out in the lobby, Jongsuk was standing by the front doors, a duffel bag at his feet. He'd tucked in his shirt and splashed some cold water on his face: his skin was cool as he kissed me, a check brushing my own. "Found your phone," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket and handing it to me. "You're going to need it."

"Are you saying you're going to call?"

"Probably before we even leave the lot."

I smiled. "Then you'll need my number."

He pulled out his phone, swiping to the contacts, and handed it over. I could feel him watching me, so close, as I typed in my name and the digits, then hit SAVE. "There. Done."

He took it back, then sighed. "I don't want to be done."

"Me neither."

A car pulled up outside, just past the overhang of the hotel. I could tell by Jongsuk's face that it was his father. The car did look new, and expensive, low to the ground and blue.

"Just stay," I said quietly, before I could stop myself.

"I wish I could," he replied, then pulled me closer, burying his face in my hair. Is this the end? I thought. Or would there be another kiss, another moment, more time, just like I wanted? But then he was pulling back from me, still holding my hand. "I got to go, though. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I managed to say. "I'll be there for limeade before you know it."

"I'm holding you to that." Then he did kiss me again, one hand touching my face, lingering there even as he finally pulled away. "This isn't over, Su. It's only the beginning. Right?"

"The beginning," I repeated. "Okay."

I saw him draw in a deep breath, then let it out before he turned, walking toward the revolving doors. When he was almost there, he turned, dropping the bag before jogging back over to me. As soon as he was close enough, I had my arms around him.

"I love you," he said, close to my ear.

"I love you, too," I replied. Then I kissed him, trying to put everything I felt and into his last bit of contact. When he pulled away, it was all I could do not to cry.

And then was walking back over to the doors, pushing through them and outside. I got only the briefest glance of his father, also tall and dark-haired, watching him approach from over the roof of the car. He popped the trunk, and Jongsuk dropped his bag in, then walked back to the passenger door to climb inside. I knew I'd already gotten my good-bye, several of them, but I still couldn't make myself move as his father got behind the wheel, starting the car. Just as they pulled away, two women approached from outside, pushing the doors into motion. My last glimpse of Jongsuk was this combination of the doors turning and the car moving, in a prism of motion and spinning that left me dizzy and yearning. As if the whole world itself tilted, not just my own.