Looking out at the blending of sea and sky, and the breeze was so relaxing. A light smile lays on my face gently as we exchange stories from over the past few months about how things are at home and BTS. But I can feel a tinge of sadness and pain in my chest. I just miss him so much. Hoseok rolls over on his side facing me, propping himself with his elbow. "What's with the serious face?"

"What serious face?"

"This one." He pokes at my forehead, "The one that's going to give you wrinkles."

"I don't have wrinkles—"

"You will if you keep making a face like that." He stated. "Here just smile— like this." Before I can respond he squishes my cheeks, pushing them back, while he smiles obnoxiously wide himself. 

"Stop it," I giggle, swatting his hands away.

"See you can do it." 

Hoseok stares at me for a few moments curiously then brought his hand to my face moving a hair behind my ear. Leaving his hand there he began to caress my cheek and comes forward resting his forehead against mine.  

"I know you're proud," he softly spoke, "but you know you don't have to put on a brave face in front of me." 

I furrow my brows taken back. "I'm not." That came out a little too defensively. 

He raised an eyebrow obviously not believing me— Hoseok could always read me like a book, but instead of arguing he gives me a sly smirk. "Whatever you say." 

He folds his hands behind his head lazily. "Hm, this is pretty nice— you know, to hear someone go on praising me...about my skills..about how successful and wonderful I am— "

"Just get to the point." I cross my arms over my chest, getting irritated. "And I do not."

"Yeah, yeah," he waves his hand at me chuckling. "Okay, now its my turn. Why don't you tell me about you? About school? You finally made it— how's the art?" I go quiet. Bringing my arms to my sides, I start fumbling with the sand trying to distract myself from answering his question. 

"Well?" he nudges me.

I shrug, "It's okay, I guess." 

"Just okay?" he looked at me with a curious face. 

I thought about my father and what he told me— about what everyone has ever told me. "It's nothing really." His eyebrows furrow with confusion. "Just a waste of time," I said in a soft voice. 

"What are you talking about?"

"It's stupid. I'm going to drop the class next semester," I stammer and start chewing the inside of my lip nervously. 

"What? Ollie, you can't do that," he gaped.

I wanted to change the subject— I wanted to scream— but I couldn't find the right words. "Art is your life. You've been working at getting into an art school for years. You came here because of an art program." I press my lips into a thin line and stay quiet. "What happened?" 

"It's just an art program— no internship. No job." I gulped nervously and kept my gaze at the sky, refusing to look at him.

"What happened?" he repeated more demandingly. I finally found my voice, "Nothing, I just..." I start to trail off, "woke up."

"Woke up? From what?"

"From fantasy," I spat. "My little dream world."

He scoffs, "Ollie, there's nothing wrong with having a passion or dream—"

"You're right, there's not," I sat up and glared at him with a grim face. "But there is with being a fantasizer." I state. The expression on his face was even more flabbergasted, "And what made you wake up exactly? Your dad?" He snapped back. 

I peer into his eyes. "Reality."

The waves were crashing into the shore harder as if they were in sync with my emotions. "I was simply reminded how art isn't a real career. I will struggle miserably for the rest of my life. It's just a ho-hobby," I stutter. A small tear fell, I quickly wipe it away.

"Besides, I was never good enough anyway," I mumbled, mostly to myself. 

Hoseok let out an iritated sigh, "Tch. Save it for the dramas." There was a long pause between us. Without noticing, another tear escapes down my cheek, he wipes it away with his thumb and took my face in between his large warm hands. "Olivia, look at me." My eyes slightly widen; he never uses my real name.

"You are talented and have so much potential— so much passion," he said. "Always drawing— you carry a pencil and that sketchbook of yours around, literally, everywhere you go. Doodling or sketching, and practicing different techniques. Your nose is always in that book." I could barely look at him while he spoke. This topic always turns into a fight. I felt my chin slightly tremble— I'm emotional enough. I don't need to hear this— I fought it off and try to calm myself down.

"You were the one who talked me into auditioning to become an idol in the first place. You believed in me when no one else did," Hoseok continued. "Look at me now. I have a career in the arts. You always told me to follow my dreams and do what I love— to never give up." I blink back a couple of tears. "Follow your own advice for once." 

"This isnt something I can just audition for. Things work differently with this department, okay? Now drop it." I said sharply as I began to get up, but he grabs my arm. 

"No." 

He pulls me back down next to him, forcing me to look at him again. 

"You were there for me while I was going through my ty trainee years— even while you were back in the U.S. you still texted me, you skyped me to check up on me." 

We stay silent, staring at each other, for what felt like an eternity. Hoseok let out a deep sigh, breaking the silence. "Look, I'm not around that much anymore," he finally spoke, "and we don't have as much time together as we want, but I refuse to let you give up like this."

Silent tears fell down my cheeks. He pulls me into a hug. "Don't cry, Ollie. It's okay, shhh, I'm here," he coos trying to calm me down. "I'm sorry."

"Why is he apologizing?" I thought, as he kept going. "I should have been there for you, like you were for me. I could have helped you, protected yo—"

I placed a hand over his mouth. "Shut up," I mumble, "and don't apologize, dummy."

Hoseok didn't say anything for a while. As he stares deeper and deeper into my eyes. I began to lose myself in his gaze.  "You got sand in my mouth," he muffled.

"Oh— oh, uh, oops," I quickly remove my hand. 

He starts spitting out the little bit of sand. "Aigoo. Little punk." Hoseok chuckles with a mischievous glare. "You're such a pain. But you can be cute," he pokes my cheek. "Sometimes."

"So I've been told," I smirk. "Now cut it out." I swipe his hand away. Hoseok still held me in his arms looking deep into my eyes as he wipes away the last of my tears, "Better?"

I give him a shy grin. "Yeah," I whisper and breathe out a light chuckle. "A little ball of sunshine brightened my day." He raises an eyebrow, but his lips still curled into a nice bright smile at my words.

His face was so close, only a few inches away, I could almost feel his breath on my skin. He started to come closer. I couldn't move, captured by his eyes; beautiful dark brown, so full of laughter and happiness. Our lips were only a breath away from each other. 

"Eh! There you guys are!"

*moment ruined again* 

Jimin calls from behind us down the beach. "C'mon lovebirds, we're starting the fire!"

"Okay! We're coming!" Hoseok hollers back, not taking his eyes off me. We stayed there for a couple moments just staring at each other. He gives me a shy smile and got up offering me his hand. For a split second I'm hesitant but happily take it.