Suddenly there was a reason to get up in the morning and go to the same beach every day. It meant seeing Handong, and as they were stuck at the resort 24 hours a day, it was possible to spend the days together.

The entire day.

Yoobin was looking forward to seeing Handong and her various outfits; sometimes she wore floral dresses, other times she wore large t-shirts with high-waisted shorts but most of the time she was in swimsuits.

Yoobin tried to fight it, but her mind would often end up wondering despite her efforts. She was thinking about slipping her arms around Handong’s slim waist, holding her close while watching the sunset on the all too familiar beach. Leaning in, stealing a kiss; Handong would smile, perhaps even giggle.

But Yoobin never said or tried anything, she didn’t have the confidence. On one hand she was being pressed by the limited time they would have together while on the other she didn’t want to push things exactly for that reason.

She convinced herself that she was content the way things were.

Handong and Yoobin spending days together inseparably didn’t go unnoticed. Her parents were asking about the blonde girl their daughter didn’t seem to leave alone.

“It’s a good thing, you’ve finally found a friend.”

Yoobin ignored them. She ignore all and any remarks made about Handong until their two families actually started to hang out.

It was a horrifying morning. She got out of bed a bit later than usual and walked onto the pavilion, looking around to find her parents.

She spotted them by Handong and her family’s table, chatting happily. Yoobin was mortified. It took her a second to respond to being beckoned, to take a place by the table and put on a smile as if she was happy this was happening.

She hated it. She’d wanted Handong all to herself but now their friendship has become just a tourist attraction for both their families.

She knew what was about to come; group activities, constant questions of what they’d be doing next, if the others can join…

No. No, no, no, no.

As everyone around her buzzed in a light morning conversation, Yoobin locked eyes with Handong. She seemed to be the only one who could notice Yoobin’s distress, her terrified gaze and the tremble of her lip.

Handong was like an angel. She was quick to react, telling everyone at the table that her and Yoobin would go swimming, grabbed her hand and dragged her outside.

They didn’t go swimming.

Handong took her to a secluded era behind the dining pavilion, which was further from the one used for breakfast.

They sat on a low concrete step where Yoobin curled up and hugged her knees.

“What’s wrong?”

Yoobin didn’t answer.

Handong nudged her. “Hey. You’re pouting so something’s wrong.”

Yoobin shook her head and pressed her forehead to her knees. She didn’t know how to tell Handong what was wrong without sounding like a possessive psycho.

Handong turned towards Yoobin, tucking her ankle under her thigh to be more comfortable. “Okay, we can do it like this. You can talk to me and I’ll do my best to help, or we can forget completely about the whole thing and try to have fun.”

“Ignoring issues never really works. It’s just being delusional,” Yoobin muttered. It was ironic really, that being said by someone who’d dedicated a lot of time to ignoring her issues in hopes of becoming numb to them.

Handong pursed her lips in thought. “That’s true but I can’t force you to face the issue.”

Yoobin flicked her gaze to Handong and shrunk into herself even more. “It’s not a real issue. I liked being friends with you without others interfering.”

It took Handong a moment to understand the true meaning of Yoobin’s words since she’d presented her feelings in a very mild manner, lessening the impact. But Handong wasn’t blind like so many; she could see that Yoobin was truly upset.

“Oh.” She paused. “I promise I won’t stop paying attention to you,” she blurted out. “We have a lot of time to spend together, so don’t worry! You’ll always have me.”

As much as Yoobin wanted to find this reassuring, she also knew that the truth was bit different. They didn’t have that much time. And as poetic as Handong’s “always” sounded, it was meaningless. They wouldn’t have an “always.”