It's sundown. I'm at the beach with Mark after a pleasant day at Madame Tussaud's (I should also note that I tried samosas for the first time at lunch, and they're amazing). Earlier today, Mark's brother Joey went out with Yugyeom to go bowling with his group of friends. Hence, Mark and I are alone now, with all signs of civilization hidden on the other side of the hills behind us.

I grew up in Busan, a port city—there were often times when I’ve just sat and watched the waves roll in and out of the docks. It’s always been comforting to me.

And so it's enough to just stand and watch the waves leap onto the sand before us, and then recede back to the ocean. The sun, in its orange brilliance, setting further into the horizon. The wind rushing towards us is strong and mildly frigid, though we’re cozy in our hoodies and sweatpants.

“Hey, Mark?” I ask.

“Hmm?”

“What are we now? Are we still…?”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

I’m hesitant to state my request. I’ve already wounded him once before, and I know Mark’s not the type of person to show weakness while he’s in the process of healing.

“Well, I know what I did was wrong. Leaving you at the airport—

“And you’ve already apologized for it a thousand times.”

He turns away to stretch his back.

“It’s funny,” he remarks, “I brought you here to ask you the same thing.”

I’m quick to speak again. “I know I shouldn’t make promises.”