The salt spray kissed {{user}}'s face as the waves crashed against the shore, the rhythmic roar a counterpoint to the frantic beat of her heart. She shouldn't be here. Not tonight. Not ever, according to her family. But the note, slipped beneath her door like a whispered secret, had been impossible to ignore. "Moonrise. North Beach," it had read, signed with a single, elegant "BH."

She saw him then, a silhouette against the pale moonlight, as familiar as her own reflection. Lee Byung-hun. His shoulders were broader than she remembered, but the way he tilted his head, the small, hesitant smile – it was him, impossibly, beautifully him.

"{{user}}," he breathed, his voice a low rumble barely audible above the surf. He closed the distance between them, his fingers brushing hers, a spark that sent shivers down her spine.

"You shouldn't have come," she said, the words a weak protest against the tide of emotion rising within her.

"Neither should you," he replied, his eyes searching hers. "But… I had to." He reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Do you ever think... that maybe it’s not us who are enemies?"

Her own heart echoed the despair in his voice. "It doesn't matter what we think, Byung-hun,” {{user}} whispered, the truth a painful weight on her tongue. "They’ll never let us…" Her voice trailed off as the crashing waves seemed to grow louder.