Chapter 2.3: Testing the Heart
1992 Words
"What I mean is... look around us. There are so many guys staring our way," Marco quickly covered up, gesturing toward the surrounding beach.
Pita and I looked around and realized Marco wasn't lying; several male tourists were indeed casting admiring glances in our direction.
"Let's go play in the water instead," I suggested, grabbing Pita's hand. We eagerly dashed off toward the waves, not even waiting for the boys to finish their drinks.
I was wearing a modest beach outfit: a pair of crisp white shorts paired with a delicate white tank top, covered by a sheer, light white button-up shirt. My brother had issued a strict, non-negotiable decree forbidding me from wearing a bikini into the water. Pita had willingly coordinated her outfit to match mine—a direct order from Devi so I wouldn't feel awkward or out of place dressed differently from everyone else.
"Catch me if you can! Hahaha!"
Our melodic, ringing laughter echoed through the air as we splashed around in the shallows. Our joyous voices easily reached Al and Marco, who were leisurely strolling down the beach toward us.
"Huh? Why on earth are they wearing full clothes to swim?" Marco wondered aloud, glancing around the beach where European-style tourists lounging in bikinis was the standard norm.
"Personally, I think it's much better this way," Al countered, though his expression was laced with a hint of possessiveness as he kept his eyes locked on me. "Look at her... even fully dressed, she's still devastatingly sexy."
In reality, he was fighting the urge to drag me straight back to dry land; my sheer shirt became practically see-through the moment it got wet.
"But look over there, those other girls are barely wearing anything at all. Now that is a beautiful view," Marco teased, nudging Al to look at a group of European women who were staring at them.
"Not beautiful at all. Hideous, actually," Al shot down coldly.
"Hanni, what on earth is that thin rag you're covering yourself with?" Al suddenly growled, marching straight into the water toward me. It seemed seeing the male swimmers nearby staring intently at me without blinking had triggered an uncontrollable wave of jealousy in him.
"Oh, Al! You're finally here... Take this!" I chirped, completely oblivious to his sour mood. With a bright, melodic laugh, I scooped up a handful of water and splashed it directly at him. As I leaned forward, my wet shirt clung tightly to my skin, offering him a brief, tantalizing glimpse.
"What... what do you think you're doing?!" Al sputtered, his face flushing instantly. He ripped off his own outer shirt and draped it securely over my shoulders.
Pita and I blinked in absolute shock, completely stunned by Al's sudden, aggressive outburst. I stood frozen, my mouth hanging slightly open as Al firmly bundled me up in his warm shirt. A few feet away, Marco watched the entire scene play out with a highly amused, thoroughly satisfied smirk.
"Do you have absolutely no awareness of how incredibly provocative you look right now?" Al scolded me, his protective instincts entirely overriding his filter.
"But look at everyone else!" I protested, gesturing wildly around the beach. "They're dressed way more provocatively than I am!"
Al glanced around, suddenly realizing he had completely overreacted and exposed his jealousy a bit too obviously.
"That doesn't matter. Look at your clothes—they're completely soaked and see-through! Wearing this is practically no different from wearing a bikini," he argued stubbornly.
"Then go scold Pita too! She's dressed exactly the same way as me," I countered, pointing at my friend.
Al shifted his gaze to Pita, who was standing right next to us. Yet, curiously to him, when he looked at Pita, her wet clothes didn't look a single bit as mesmerizing or alluring as mine did to his eyes.
"That's because... because I didn't see Pita earlier," Al stammered out a lame excuse.
"Wow, that is the most pathetic excuse I've ever heard in my life, Al," Marco chimed in, thoroughly enjoying poking fun at his friend's expense.
"Alright, let's just keep playing in the water. We were having so much fun," Pita quickly intervened, trying to diffuse the tension. However, I could see a small seed of suspicion about Al's behavior had officially been planted in her mind as well.
"How about we play tag?" Marco suggested, coming up with a game to break the ice. "We'll do a round of rock-paper-scissors. Whoever loses has to be 'it' and chase the winners."
"Oh, tag sounds perfect!" I agreed.
Unluckily for me, I lost the first round and became 'it.' I spent the next ten minutes running through the water, exhausting myself trying to catch them, until Al purposely slowed down and let himself get caught so he could take over. As the game progressed, however, Al's chasing became highly selective—he exclusively pursued me. Whenever he caught me, he would playfully let me break free just to chase me again. To Pita and Marco, it didn't look like regular tag at all... it looked remarkably like he was just finding excuses to wrap his arms around me.
Pita and Marco exchanged a knowing glance, silently reaching an agreement. They quietly waded out of the water and headed back to the shore, leaving the two of us to chase each other across the surf.
Al kept pursuing me until we had drifted a considerable distance away from our friends. He playfully guided me toward a slightly deeper section of the water, knowing the resistance of the waves would naturally slow me down, making it effortless for him to catch me and keep me steady.
"Stop... stop it, Al! I'm so tired, I can't run anymore," I panted, throwing my hands up in surrender as Al closed the distance.
"We can't stop just yet, we're right in the middle of the fun," Al teased. He stepped closer, smoothly reaching out to capture my wrists, before sliding his hands down to securely lock them around my slender waist.
"I'm seriously exhausted, Al. I don't have a single ounce of strength left to run. Let's stop playing, please?"
"Alright, we can stop playing tag."
"Then let go of me."
Al, however, showed absolutely no intention of releasing his grip on my waist. Instead, he pulled me a fraction closer, holding me gently.
"We can stop playing in the water, but we can play something else," Al murmured, a playful, roguish smirk spreading across his handsome face.
"Play what?" I asked, my large eyes widening in confusion.
"Al!" I shrieked in utter shock as he suddenly pulled me down into the water, plunging both of them beneath the gentle waves.
"Al! I don't know how to dive!" The moment we resurfaced, I frantically wrapped my arms tightly around Al's neck, clinging to him like a koala. My soft body was pressed flush against his chest in an intimacy we had never shared before.
"Well, how was it? Was it fun?" Al chuckled warmly, effortlessly lifting me up so my lower half was completely clear of the water. He smiled with absolute satisfaction, enjoying how tightly I was holding onto him.
"It wasn't fun at all, Al! Take me back to the shore right now!"
"And what if I don't want to?"
"Then I am going to report you to Brother Vi!" I threatened, terrified he would dunk me underwater again, using my ultimate weapon against him.
"Alright, alright. I'll take you back, just please don't tell your brother," Al relented with a laugh. It wasn't because he actually feared Devi's wrath, but rather because he noticed my petite frame was starting to shiver slightly from the chilly water.
The moment my feet touched dry land, I bolted straight toward the beach umbrella where Pita and Marco were waiting.
"Good grief, look at you... you look exactly like a drowned puppy," Pita joked, rising from her chair to hand me a fresh, dry cover-up.
"It's all Al's fault! He completely bullied me!" I whined.
"Ha! Didn't you confidently claim that playing with him was the best thing ever? You honestly got what you deserved," Marco teased, showing absolutely zero sympathy and intentionally rubbing salt into my wound.
"..." I pouted, unable to offer a comeback. It was true that I had been having too much fun and had completely let my guard down.
"Look, Pita! Al is coming over right now. Go teach him a lesson for me!" I huffed, still furious with Al but not daring to retaliate myself, terrified he would toss me back into the ocean.
"Did you really have to push Hanni that far?" Pita demanded, stepping forward to confront him. Al, however, completely ignored her question, smoothly walking right past her to reach me.
"I'm incredibly sorry, Hanni. I was really just playing around with you," Al said softly, gently reaching out to touch my arm. He knew I was genuinely upset, so he wasted no time turning on his charms to appease me.
"Hmph!" I scoffed, tossing my head to the side. Did he honestly think a simple apology would instantly cure my anger?
"Come on, forgive me, Hanni. I'm really sorry," Al pleaded, instinctively reaching out to pull me into a comforting embrace, but I quickly slapped his hands away.
"Save it!" I huffed, turning my entire body away, refusing to even grant him a glance.
"But I already said I'm sorry."
"You scared me half to death, and you think a pathetic little apology is going to fix that?!"
"Exactly! Hanni, whatever you do, do not forgive Al so easily," Pita chimed in, gleefully joining the assault to get revenge for how Al had ignored her earlier.
"Mind your own business, Pita," Al snapped, glaring at her.
"Actually, she's right, Al," Marco chimed in with a wicked grin. "You seriously need to pay compensation for the emotional damage you caused all of us."
"Compensation? What on earth did I even do to you?!" Al asked, throwing his hands up in utter bewilderment. He couldn't understand how a private moment between us had suddenly turned into a three-on-one ambush against him.
"You made us worry sick about Hanni's safety, right, Pita?" Marco asked, casting a subtle, conspiratorial wink at Pita.
"Exactly, Marco! Hanni, what do you say?"
"Well, Al? Are you going to give in to their terms? Because if you don't, I am never going to stop being mad at you," I threatened, instantly feeling empowered. Now that I had Pita and Marco fiercely backing me up, I held all the cards. Poor Al stood completely isolated on the defensive, facing our sharp glares.
"Fine... I surrender to you guys," Al grumbled in defeat.
"In that case, let's head over to that boutique over there. You're paying for everything," Marco commanded, pointing a finger toward a stylish clothing stall set up near the beachfront.
"Since when did you get the authority to order me around?!" Al barked.
"Hey, don't look at me. Ask Hanni."
"Just do what Marco said," I chimed in, completely ignoring Al's protests as I linked my arm through Pita's, leading the way toward the boutique.
"I'm taking this green shirt first!" Marco declared, being the first to grab an item from the rack.
"Oh, this is gorgeous! I'm going to take the exact same color. Hanni, do you want to match with us?" Pita asked, holding up a beautiful green dress with an identical pattern for me to see.
- Writer
