“Time’s ticking, Mr Choi. Get going. Chop chop.”

Lea’s voice echoed in Minho’s mind even after she walked out of the hallway. The words repeated themselves like a broken tape, creeping tight past the sealed slits of his skull to knock in some senses into the malfunctioning brain. Minho knew he was running out of time - more so as he decided to spend a few moments reminiscing about the silly kisses he’d shared with Taemin earlier. He’d wasted plenty of it while reading the article about chemistry on a spiritual plane, too. Was he willing to sacrifice more?

There was, for sure, trepidation in change. That Minho knew best. It carried this strong undercurrent of baleful miseries, of forthcoming ambivalence and uncertainties. Just like how it was going to end for him and Taemin. In their (and every other) case, action will always yield two outcomes: good and bad. And for the scale to be balanced? Wishful thinking is what it is.

A change. Kept or forgotten.

That was what Minho feared the most. The change. In case anything would change between them if his shot was misplaced this time. But again, it was Taemin’s last day being a guest there, sleeping in that suite, ambling around the resort. If at all anything was bound to happen, it would be Minho’s last day fretting about what the future might hold.

“Okay. Enough of being a ,” Minho muttered angrily under his breath before racing out and straight into his personal pad to change out of the three-piece suit. Now clad in casual clothes, he raced back into the lift and fixed his hair, checking himself out on the mirror-like wall. “Whatever happens on the hallway, stays on the hallway. If he wants to decline my offer, that’s okay. Rejection is normal. It’s fine. At least I know that I’ve tried. It’s the effort that counts. But if he accepts me, then plan B, that is.”

One shaky press on the doorbell and Minho let out a long-drawn exhale, once again succumbing to the excruciating pain of waiting. 

“Yes, who is it?”

Except it didn’t take very long this time. Soon enough, the blond head popped out behind the door and a pair of round, big eyes met Minho’s unblinking ones. The sight of clueless Taemin was so adorable that it enhanced the fluttery nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach, so Minho rubbed his jaw to wipe away the foolish smile.

“You again,” Taemin squinted his eyes, voice soft and tiny as ever. Still so mischievous, though. He tried to close the door on Minho but the older man was quick enough to stop his movement.

“Wait! Wait. Firstly, I have a name, you know,” Minho started while trying to keep the door open as wide as possible by pushing against Taemin’s resistance gently. “Secondly, we need to talk.”

Taemin checked his wristwatch and puckered his lips. “Not yet 24 hours, unfortunately.”

“I know,” Minho said again. He said this line often. “I know you wanted to make me wait for the whole night and to be honest with you? I bloody agree. I deserve the punishment for assuming the worst of you when you were kind enough to meet me in the games room. I was stupid.”

A bit surprised, but Taemin seemed content by the lengthy admittance, so he loosened the grip on the door and stood firmer on the ground. It must be the ‘I deserve’ line that hooked him into giving in, Minho thought. Or the ‘I was stupid’ one. Nonetheless, he should’ve seen it coming. The rush of smugness was predictable. It was Lee Taemin.

Minho continued anyway. “But I can’t wait for 24 hours, Taemin. You areㅡwait, Jesus, stop teasing me by closing the door while I speak!”

“Whoops,” Taemin grinned maliciously.

Minho grunted, his right foot was used as the door stopper. “I was saying that you’re going to leave tomorrow. In less than 24 hours, if you’re not getting your own memo. So, no. I’m not going to wait the whole night and miss the chance of getting to know the answer.”

“Persistent. That’s y,” Taemin said matter-of-factly. If Minho was the slightest bit drunk, he might’ve interpreted the compliment as an invitation. Or perhaps it was. Nobody knew.

“Thank you. And please keep it in your pants for the time being. Now answer me. The day you were robbed, right.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Did you get to walk along the beach?” Minho raised an eyebrow, the inflexion of his tone leaned more towards the dubious one as he pressed an open palm on the surface of the door. “Like, the proper kind?”

Say no.

Please say no.

“Nope,” Taemin replied, lips smacking annoyingly loud to emphasise his response. “Because I went for a dip, ended up getting robbed, came back to the resort and one jackㅡ”

“Yes, one jackass told you to wear your mask and made you stand in the lobby in nothing but your thin swimming shorts. Dammit, you will never let me live.”

Taemin laughed again, full and unrestrained and thoroughly satisfied. It made Minho smile slightly. “Smart.”

“Yeah, so do you want to go for a night walk with me?”

Minho needed to hear the answer immediately. Whether his sense of nervousness was real or imagined, it was the reality of his experience that he had to deal with, and he needed Taemin to make it quick with his answer. He needed Taemin to cut the thinking part short and decided right away. 

The boy was doing it on purpose, after all. He was aware that he had Minho wrapped around his tiny, stinkingly cute little finger. 

“Sounds good,” Taemin hummed in assent as Minho finally let go of the door, probably biting back a triumphant cry. “Give me two minutes and we can proceed. Stop staring at my legs.”

“Are you kidding? If only you don’t expose them unnecessarily.”

“Unnecessarily? I thought you wanted to see more,” Taemin stuck his tongue out cheekily then slammed the door shut, only coming out a while later with a cardigan hugging his slim frame warmly. 

He looked petite, and Minho clenched his jaw tight, fingers already itching to hold Taemin’s hand as they walked down to the beach. The night breeze was chilly against their bones, so sharp and fierce that mild cold was a comfort. The two of them walked side-by-side, trying so hard not to brush arms while searching for a safe spot and an interesting topic to indulge in.

“So…” Taemin intended to break the silence, moving his eyes to look at the darkening sky and tried not to pull a muscle each time he felt the heat coming from Minho’s skin hitting his own. “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Minho replied, stretching his arms high before clasping both hands on his nape, chest broadening to draw in a long breath. He exhaled, then continued speaking. “The beach is more beautiful than ever tonight. For some reason.”

Even amid the moving, rowdy crowd - individuals, couples, families - on the loose-packed sand, Minho’s voice remained low, tone certain and undisguised; just full of raw honesty and crystal clear insinuations. He was right on all counts. Taemin felt it, too. That, indeed, the beach had gotten prettier that night. He didn’t know if it was what he imagined going out with the manager would be, but there was clearly something about their current situation that reminded Taemin of the traditional veneration of hopeless romantics. Night walk, casual clothes, the sound of the waves crashing the shore in unison before receding into the ocean in constant, purposeful undulation, the moonbeam in the sea, the floating lanterns, the running children, the stress-free life, and two awkward, very