I set my fork down, unable to hide my smile. "You're joking."

"I'm not," he insisted, leaning forward again. "I think that's what marriage is about. Building a team. If both people are out working all the time, who's looking after the family? If someone has to give up their career to make it work, I'd want it to be me."

His words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I just stared at him, unsure how to respond.

"That's... surprisingly progressive of you," I said finally.

He grinned, reaching across the table to flick a crumb off my sleeve. "What can I say? I'm full of surprises."

I shook my head, laughing softly. "You're something else, Jinyoung."

"And you love it," he said, his voice low and teasing as he leaned closer, his fingers brushing lightly against mine.

I didn't pull away, but I met his gaze with a smirk. "Keep dreaming, househusband."

"Oh, I will," he said, his smile slow and deliberate. "But don't be surprised if you end up in those dreams, too."

The butterflies in my stomach went into overdrive, but I refused to let him see how much he was getting to me. Instead, I picked up my glass, raising it in a mock toast.

"To your delusions," I said, my voice steady despite the chaos in my chest.

He clinked his glass against mine, his eyes never leaving mine as he said, "To our future."

The bathroom light cast a soft glow over the marble counter as I perched on the edge of the sink, legs dangling on either side of Jinyoung. He stood between them, his broad shoulders framed by the mirror behind him, his big hands resting lightly on my waist.

"Hold still," I murmured, holding a cotton pad soaked with toner up to his face. "Your skin's crying for help, and I'm here to rescue it."

He smirked, the dimple in his cheek making a brief appearance as he looked down at me. "I didn't realize I needed saving."

"Everyone needs saving," I said lightly, tilting his chin up with my fingers. "Especially when they've been slacking on their skincare routine."

He chuckled, his thumbs brushing absentmindedly against my waist through the thin fabric of my shirt. The small, lazy circles he traced sent tiny sparks up my spine, but I kept my focus on his face.

"You really like bossing me around, don't you?" he teased, his voice low and warm.

"Someone has to," I shot back, dabbing the toner across his forehead. "Now stop moving or I'll accidentally poke you in the eye."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with mock seriousness, his gaze flicking between my eyes and lips.

For a moment, the room was quiet, the soft sounds of my products clinking against the counter filling the space. It was the kind of silence that felt comfortable—intimate, even.

I reached for the serum, squirting a few drops onto my fingertips. As I smoothed it over his cheeks, his hands tightened slightly on my waist, pulling me just a fraction closer.

"Alright, let's make this interesting," he said suddenly, his tone playful but curious. "What's the silliest thing you've ever done to impress someone?"

I paused mid-motion, my fingers stilling against his jaw. "Oh, we're getting deep now, are we?"

He shrugged, his thumb brushing over the hem of my shirt. "Just thought I'd get to know the real Yoori. You can handle that, can't you?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, though I couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips. "Fine. Let me think..."

As I rubbed the serum into his skin, the memory came to me, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Okay, this is embarrassing, but when I was in high school, there was this guy I liked who was obsessed with basketball. I knew absolutely nothing about it, but I decided to fake my way through a conversation with him. I spent an entire weekend binge-watching games and memorizing random stats. It worked—he thought I was a fan."

Jinyoung grinned, his thumb pausing its movement on my waist. "Did it get you anywhere?"

"Oh, absolutely not," I said with a dramatic sigh. "He ended up dating someone else. But hey, I can still impress people with my random basketball trivia, so it wasn't a total waste."

He laughed, the sound rich and warm as he looked at me like I was the most fascinating thing in the room. "You? Pretending to care about basketball? That's hard to picture."

I smirked, reaching for the moisturizer. "What about you? What's the dumbest thing you've done to impress someone?"

He tilted his head, his gaze dropping to my hands as I scooped out a small amount of cream. "You're not gonna let me get away without answering, are you?"

"Not a chance," I said, patting the moisturizer onto his face. "Spill."

He hesitated for a moment, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Alright. Back in high school, there was this girl who was obsessed with poetry. So, naturally, I decided to write her a poem."

I paused, raising an eyebrow. "That doesn't sound dumb."

"Wait for it," he said, his grin widening. "I spent hours trying to come up with something profound and romantic. And then, when I finally showed it to her, she said, 'That's nice. Did you copy it from a book?'"

I burst out laughing, nearly dropping the moisturizer. "No! She didn't!"

"Oh, she did," he said, laughing along with me. "And the worst part is, I was so offended I spent the rest of the semester trying to prove I was actually creative."

I shook my head, wiping my hands on a towel. "That's tragic, but I have to admit, I'm impressed by your commitment."

He smiled, his hands sliding just a little higher on my waist, his fingers brushing against the bare skin where my shirt had ridden up. "What can I say? When I care about something—or someone—I don't do it halfway."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat.

"Good to know," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze dropped to my lips, and I could feel the heat of him, the way his presence seemed to fill every corner with the room.

"Are we done?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

"With your skin?" I murmured, brushing my fingers lightly over his cheek. "For now."

"Good," he said, leaning in just slightly, his forehead almost touching mine. "Because I think it's my turn to take care of you."

And just like that, the butterflies in my stomach turned into a full-blown hurricane.

The hotel suite was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional crackle of the candle Jinyoung had lit earlier. We were curled up on the massive sectional sofa, a blanket draped lazily over my legs. I sat cross-legged at one end, nursing a cup of tea, while Jinyoung stretched out at the other, one arm thrown casually along the back of the sofa.

It was comfortable, almost too comfortable, but the weight of the moment pressed down on me. This was our last solo date. In two days, the show would end, and with it, this little bubble of reality we'd created.

I broke the silence first, though my voice came out softer than usual. "It's weird, isn't it? Knowing this is the last time we'll do this. Just... us."

He tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "What, sit on a couch together?" he teased, but there was something gentle in his tone.

I rolled my eyes. "You know what I mean, Jinyoung."

He smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. It is weird. Feels like we just started."

I looked down at my tea, swirling the liquid absently. "You ever wish things could last longer?"

"Of course," he said without hesitation. He shifted, leaning forward so his elbows rested on his knees. "But sometimes, the fact that it doesn't last is what makes it special."

I glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "That's oddly philosophical for you."

"Don't act so surprised," he said, grinning now. "I have layers, Yoori. Like an onion. Or a really handsome cake."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Of course you'd compare yourself to cake."

"What can I say?" he said, leaning back again and spreading his arms. "I'm irresistible."

"You're ridiculous," I muttered, but I couldn't stop the smile tugging at my lips.

For a moment, we sat in silence again, the weight of our impending goodbye hanging in the air like an unspoken truth. His voice broke the stillness, low and warm.

"Yoori," he said, and my name on his lips made me look up. His gaze was steady, disarmingly serious. "What's something you'll miss about this?"

I hesitated, caught off guard by the question. But then I shrugged, leaning back against the armrest and meeting his gaze. "I'll miss how easy this was. No pressure, no expectations. Just... us being us."

He nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah. Me too."

He reached out then, his hand brushing against my knee beneath the blanket. It wasn't anything overt, just a small touch, but it sent a wave of warmth through me.

"What about you?" I asked, my voice softer now. "What will you miss?"

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he shifted closer, the blanket sliding between us as he rested his arm on the back of the sofa, his hand brushing against my shoulder.

"I'll miss your sass," he said finally, his lips curving into a small smile. "And the way you call me out on my crap."

I raised an eyebrow. "You'll miss me being mean to you?"

"Absolutely," he said, his grin widening. "It's endearing."

I shook my head, laughing softly. "You're impossible."

"And you're unforgettable," he said, his voice dropping just a fraction.

The butterflies in my stomach went into overdrive, but I didn't let it show. Instead, I tilted my head, smirking at him. "Careful, Jinyoung. Someone might think you're catching feelings."

"Someone?" he repeated, his hand brushing against my shoulder again, his thumb tracing idle patterns. "I think that someone knows exactly how I feel."

My breath caught for just a moment, but I masked it with a casual shrug. "Well, that's their problem, isn't it?"

He laughed softly, the sound warm and intimate in the quiet room. "Yoori," he said, leaning in slightly, his gaze unwavering. "Do you ever wonder what this would've been like if it wasn't on a show? If it was just... real life?"

I looked at him, really looked at him, and for once, I didn't have a quick comeback.

"Sometimes," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softened, and he reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Me too."

The room was still, save for the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. I didn't dare break eye contact, even though the weight of his stare made me want to look away. There was something about the way he was looking at me—like he was memorizing every detail, every feature, every moment.

"Do you think..." I started, my voice catching in my throat. I took a breath, steadying myself. "Do you think this—us—would work outside of here?"

He didn't answer right away, his thumb still brushing along the edge of my jaw. "I've been wondering the same thing," he said finally, his voice soft but steady.

I raised an eyebrow, trying to mask the nervous flutter in my chest. "And what's your conclusion, Mr. Philosopher?"

He chuckled lightly, but the sound didn't carry its usual teasing edge. "Honestly? I don't know. Part of me thinks it could. Part of me thinks we'd crash and burn the second we're back in Seoul, living our regular lives."

I leaned back slightly, crossing my arms over my chest in a mock defensive posture. "Crash and burn, huh? That's a bit dramatic, even for you."

He smiled faintly, but his expression remained thoughtful. "Think about it, Yoori. Here, everything's easy. No deadlines, no real-world distractions. It's like... a bubble. But back there..." He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the blanket between us. "Things get complicated. People get complicated."

I studied him for a moment, his words sinking in. He wasn't wrong. Here, in this strange, temporary reality, it was easy to imagine a world where we fit seamlessly into each other's lives. But once we stepped back into the chaos of Seoul, where routines and responsibilities ruled, could we really hold onto this?

"So you're saying it's just a summer fling?" I asked, my tone light but laced with something heavier.

His head snapped up, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I didn't say that."

"You implied it," I countered, raising an eyebrow.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "If I thought this was just a fling, Yoori, I wouldn't be here right now, having this conversation with you."

The intensity in his tone sent a shiver down my spine, but I refused to let him see how much his words affected me. Instead, I tilted my head, my lips curling into a small smirk. "So what are you saying, then?"

"I'm saying," he began, his hand finding its way to my knee beneath the blanket, "that I don't know what this is. But I know it's not nothing."

I felt my breath hitch, but I masked it with a laugh. "Wow, way to dodge the question."

He grinned, the playful glint returning to his eyes. "I'm being honest. Isn't that what you want?"

"Honesty's overrated," I quipped, but the softness in my tone betrayed me.

He chuckled, leaning back against the sofa and running a hand through his hair. "Okay, then let me ask you something."

I raised an eyebrow, gesturing for him to continue.

"Do you think it would work? Us, outside of this?"

The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, I didn't know how to answer. I looked down at my tea, swirling the liquid absently as I gathered my thoughts.

"I think..." I started, my voice quieter than I intended. "I think it depends."

"On what?" he pressed, leaning forward slightly.

"On whether we're brave enough to try," I said simply, meeting his gaze.

His lips curved into a slow, thoughtful smile. "Brave, huh? I like the sound of that."

"Don't get too excited," I warned, though my smile betrayed me. "I didn't say we'd succeed. Just that we'd have to try."

"And what if we fail?" he asked, his tone serious again.

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Then we fail. At least we'd know, right?"

He nodded, his gaze steady. "Right."

For a moment, we just looked at each other, the weight of the conversation settling between us. It wasn't a resolution, not really, but it was something. A mutual acknowledgment that whatever this was, it wasn't something either of us wanted to let go of easily.

"Yoori," he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?"

He leaned in, his face inches from mine, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "For the record, I think we'd make it."

I felt the butterflies in my stomach erupt into a full-blown riot, but I kept my composure, leaning back with a smirk. "Cocky as ever, I see."

"Just confident," he corrected, his grin widening.

I laughed softly, shaking my head. "You're impossible."

"And you love it," he shot back, his tone light but his eyes holding something deeper.

I didn't answer, but the smile that lingered on my lips said it all.

The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden glow over the ocean as we made our way toward the island. The air was cool, the kind that woke you up gently, and the faint sound of waves lapping against the shore provided the perfect backdrop to the quiet morning.

Jinyoung walked beside me, his hand gripping not only his bag but mine as well. I had protested, of course—my feminist principles demanding equality—but he'd shut me down with that infuriatingly charming smirk of his and a simple, "I like being useful."

Seulki and Jongwoo were walking just ahead of us, their laughter breaking through the morning stillness. Yeongjae and Soeun trailed behind, their conversation low and intimate. We were a group, but it felt like each couple was in their own little world, their own bubble of connection and shared memories.

"You know I could've carried that, right?" I said, glancing at Jinyoung as we stepped over a patch of uneven sand.

"Of course, you could've," he replied, his tone teasing. "But why would I let you when I can do it for you?"

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't help the smile tugging at my lips. "What a gentleman."

"Exactly," he said with a wink, adjusting the straps of the bags on his shoulder. "I'm the definition of chivalry."

"More like the definition of stubborn," I muttered, though there was no heat behind my words.

He chuckled, his gaze dropping to me. "You're welcome, by the way."

"For what?"

"For making your morning easier," he said simply.

I scoffed, but my smile gave me away. "You're impossible."

"And you're predictable," he shot back, his grin widening.

As we approached the tents, Hanbin's voice rang out, his ever-cheerful tone breaking the morning stillness. "They're back!"

"Hi!" Soeun and I chimed in unison, glancing at each other and laughing at the coincidence.

The boys set down our bags in front of the tents, Jinyoung's movements as effortless as ever. He smiled at me as he placed my bag down, his expression full of that signature mix of teasing and warmth.

"Don't get too used to me carrying your stuff, Yoori," he quipped as he turned to head toward his tent with the other guys.

I tilted my head, smirking. "Who said I was getting used to it? Maybe I'm just letting you build some muscle."

He chuckled, glancing over his shoulder. "You're lucky you're cute."

"And you're lucky I'm patient," I shot back, enjoying the way his laughter lingered in the air as he walked away.

Shaking my head, I followed Seulki into the tent, where the rest of the girls were already gathered. The vibe was relaxed, but there was an unmistakable excitement as we all settled in, the soft rustle of fabric and muffled voices from outside filling the space.

"So," Sejeong said, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. "How were the dates?"

Seulki spoke first, her face lighting up as she recounted her time with Joongwoo. "It was so fun," she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I finally got to know him better, and honestly, I'm really glad I did. He's such a sweet guy."

Soeun nodded, chiming in with her own story. "Yeongjae was so easy to talk to. It felt really comfortable with him, like I didn't have to try so hard. And he's funny too! It was super fun."

All eyes turned to me then, and Soeun's curious smile grew. "How was the second round with Jinyoung?"

I leaned back, crossing my legs as I let a smirk play on my lips. "Oh, you know," I said casually, shrugging a