“No, no. You can't pick black as your favorite color.” Luna sounded exasperated.

“And why not?” he replied.

“Because black isn't a color. It's all colors. Like white isn't a color. It's the absence of color. So, try again, Bae.”

He took his time before answering, which seemed to be his way. “Okay, okay. Um . . .blue, I think.”

They had been walking for over an hour at this point in thew evening. Neither of them were keeping track. YoungBae had turned his phone off after ignoring JiYong's tenth call. They spent the time asking and answering questions of each other. She demanded real answers out of him, not the company-approved-offend-no-one answers he would give on TV.

“What about you?” YoungBae asked.

“Red is my favorite color to wear, but green is my favorite to look at,” she explained.

He scoffed. “Cheater! That's two colors. You can't have two favorites, it defeats the purpose of being a favorite, Lu.”

She scoffed back. “Aren't you pushy?! Gosh. Okay, it's red, I guess.”

“Final answer? Are you sure?” YoungBae rubbed his shoulder against her. She laughed and pushed him back.

They found it so easy to laugh and talk together. Any one seeing them now would never believe that not long ago the same night, they didn't want to be on the same island together. They walked along the surf sharing tales and when they got to a dune, YoungBae reached for her hand to help her up. Once at the top, he could have let go, but didn't. He admitted to himself that it felt good to hold her hand.

“Oh no, you're hands are freezing," he quickly shed his jacket and slipped her arms into it. He rubbed their hands together and breathed on them. It was too romantic, so Luna kicked him lightly in the shin and told him to stop trying to feel her up. It's not like she could admit to it feeling good to her as well.

“Jeez, where are we anyway?” She said, stepping back nervously.

“Jeju-do.”

Smart . “I mean in relation to the hotel, Bae.” She found herself rolling her eyes more times that night than ever before. He was just so cheesy.

“Well, it's an island. Eventually, we'll get back to it.”

She stared at him blankly, rolled her eyes yet again and started back the way they came. An island it may be, but her feet were starting to kill her from walking on the uneven and shifting sand. After about ten minutes they saw the lone, lounging beach chair with a towel still on it that they had passed previously. She suggested they rest for a few minutes.

They started off sitting side by side, but then when they realized they couldn't look at each other comfortably, they turned towards one another. Somehow they ended up holding hands again. This time, neither one pul