YeongMi scrunched her eyes shut tightly, fighting against Namjoon, who was rudely shaking his shoulder up and down. His shoulder, the shoulder that she was currently using as a pillow.

Whoever thought that sleeping on shoulders were a good idea, they were wrong. People move too much.

"Namjoon, stop."

He didn't stop.

"Namjoon, please, stay still...."

She tightened her grip on his arm, which was hugged to her chest, as if that could convince him to stop moving so much.

It didn't.

"Just open your eyes."

"That defeats the whole purpose of sleeping."

"It's worth it, trust me."

He was right about that, as much as she didn't want to admit it.

Splashes of yellow and red doused the horizon, chasing each other in swirls of pinks and oranges, interrupting the pale blue of the early morning sky.

The sky just barely peeked over the water, not wanting to interrupt their moment.

Their moment? Don't make it sound so special, please. It's just a sunrise with a friend on the beach.

She shifted her body over Namjoon's outstretched legs, settling herself in between them so that she could lay her head back on his chest.

He was less likely to shake her in this position.

She heard the soft exhale of a nervous laugh, but his arms quickly found their way into her lap, lightly resting on top of hers.

"I mean, I guess it's kind of.... nice."

Her head jerked forward at Namjoon's sudden laugh, and she sighed; she could never win, she'd be better off laying on the sand.

She didn't make a move to leave his arms.

"You're such a liar. I saw your face, admit it, you love it. I did good."

YeongMi rolled her eyes, fighting the smile that was creeping onto her face.

"Why were you looking at me instead of the sunset?"

"Because you're prettier."

She was grateful for the hesitant Sun, as her blush wasn't as visible in the darkness.

Curse her, she never liked cheesy remarks before.

"Do those cheesy remarks usually work on girls?"

"Only the ones that don't matter."

So then, she mattered?

Shut up, don't fool yourself.

Besides, it almost worked.

He just didn't know.

She calmed her crazed heartbeat, pushing away all the excited thoughts.

It was just harmless flirting. It doesn't mean anything.

"Fine."

Another laugh, and YeongMi groaned, sitting forward and lying her head on her knees.

"I did good."

He repeated himself proudly, and YeongMi smiled slightly.

And Namjoon's hands were lightly brushing against her back before he was standing in front of her, one hand out.

Well, it wasn't like she was actually going to get any sleep anyways.

She took his hand and let him pull her up.

She didn't complain when he started pulling her along, until the water eagerly lapped at their feet.

Nor did she complain at the fact that his hand had never left hers, even after she was steady on the ground.

She didn't complain at the feeling it gave her; the warm flow of feelings up her arm, coating her entire body.

She didn't complain about the fact that the others would soon be up and they would have to go back.

No, she just enjoyed the feeling of his hand in hers, the feeling of the cold water mixing with the warm sand under her, and the salty breeze tugging at her hair and sending cool chills across her heated skin.

"What do you think love is?"

YeongMi wasn't sure why he was asking, but she didn't like the spike in her heart rate when he uttered that taboo word.

Love.

She hated it.

"Love is frail. Love is, it's a means of getting what you want. It doesn't really mean anything special."

It was a lie. All of it.

Anyone who had ever 'loved' her, had always had a benefit from it.

Loving her to get to her money, her family, her contacts, her title. It was always for themselves, never for her.

Love wasn't something to state, exclaim. It was something that should be shown, not said.

Saying it was easy; it wasn't true.

The people who said it always said it only because they wanted something from the other person. After they got what they wanted, the love that they had 'felt' was gone.

Namjoon's hand hesitated against hers, though she was too busy angrily remembering all of those who'd 'loved' her to notice it.

His heart felt heavy at her words, and the meaning behind them. He was busy wondering if she was always going to be this bitter person with no desire of getting better.

He wanted to help, he wanted so badly to help. But it was like she would never let him.

Why wouldn't she let him?!

He wasn't sure what to say anymore, and his hand felt heavy in hers now, as if it wasn't meant to be there.

He pulled it away lightly, pressing it to his chest awkwardly.

He never knew what he was doing when it came to her.

She was crazy to figure out, and it always felt like he was trapped on a rickety, unsteady bridge with her. Behind him was how it used to be, and up ahead she was standing there, holding a pair of scissors.

And he could never understand if she was waiting for him to come to her, reach safety beside her, or if she was only going to send him falling into the unknown darkness below.

He couldn't go back to the way it was.

But he didn't know if he could move forward to her either.

So he would stay on this precarious bridge for now.

"Yeah, it's frail."