"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, a hint of self-consciousness in her voice.
"Am I looking at you in some special way?" he replied, sounding genuinely puzzled.
"Yes, you are. It's so intense. It's making me feel a bit uneasy."
He was much taller than her and looked down with a gaze that fought to suppress an involuntary smile.
"Look, I told you, stop staring at me. It's awkward, okay?" Her voice rose slightly as she gave him a playful little shove.
"What's the big deal?" he said, catching her by the hand. "I'm just admiring your beauty. Surely you don't mind that?"
"No, of course I don't mind. You can admire all you want," she replied flirtatiously, blowing him an elegant kiss.
"Fine, then I'll just admire," he grumbled with mock offense, though he turned his head away.
In truth, he was dreaming of a passionate kiss, and the suggestion to "just admire" was hardly enough for him. But he couldn't bring himself to make a bold move—he was shy by nature. Besides, she had stated clearly that she only wanted to go for a walk. Perhaps any woman in her position might say that, given that a woman's "no" often means "yes." Yet, judging by the firm confidence in her tone, she really meant no; there was no doubt about it.
And so they walked, without any romantic overtures. The entire evening passed in friendly conversation about life. She told him about herself, and he listened with genuine interest, feeling a sense of lightness in his soul.
"Listen, I can't take this anymore. You're literally drilling holes in me with your eyes," she said, getting flustered again. "Please, don't look at me like that. Please."
Pretending to be annoyed, she gave his shoulder a playful swat. He laughed, deftly caught her hand, and tried to press it to his cheek.
"Let go! Let go this instant!" she snapped, genuinely angry this time, which left her admirer feeling stung and embarrassed.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, it just happened."
"Fine. Let's keep going. Let's walk a bit more."
They walked in total silence for about ten minutes. He stared absently into the distance, still feeling the lingering warmth of her fragile, delicate palm.
"Lost in thought?" she asked curiously.
"Did you say something?" he asked, snapping out of it.
"I asked what you were thinking about."
"Nothing much, honestly. Just that the weather is nice, I guess."
"That's it?" she asked, her voice trailing off in disappointment.
"Yeah, that's it."
"I don't believe you. You know, I can read minds, so you'd better watch out," she said, wagging a slender finger at him sternly.
He lowered his eyes and spoke timidly.
"I told you, I'm thinking about the weather."
"Oh, come on," she said with a sly smile. "I can feel it—you want to kiss me. That's exactly what's on your mind. But you can't. You understand, right? We're just friends, and it's better not to change anything."
Their leisurely stroll continued. She went back to her stories—telling him about her childhood, her teenage years, her kids, and her relatives near and far. He listened intently, cherishing every word.
"She really is so sweet," he thought. "I've gone and fallen for her, and now I don't know what to do!"
***
Their meeting had been purely accidental. He hadn't intended to socialize with anyone during his vacation. On the contrary, he loved solitude and had dreamed of sitting peacefully by the ocean. One evening, he had settled comfortably on the shore, admiring the blue horizon. The atmosphere was dreamlike and stirred up a stream of memories. Once, a long time ago, he had been madly in love with a classmate—a cheerful girl named Libby. She used to wear her hair in cute pigtails with big, bright bows. And when she smiled, dimples appeared in her cheeks.
"Where are you now, my love? The girl with the wonderful smile?" he murmured to himself.
As it turned out, he had been thinking out loud, and the phrase came out quite clearly.
"I beg your pardon? What 'love'? The nerve!" an indignant female voice exclaimed.
He started and turned to his right. Not far away sat a pretty young woman with a look of pure astonishment on her face.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't talking to you," he stammered, embarrassed.
"Well, there's no one else around," she replied, her surprise growing.
"I'm just strange like that. I got lost in thought and started talking to myself."
"It's alright, it happens," the girl replied conciliatingly, a faint smile touching her lips. "My name is Libby. And yours?"
"No way, Libby!" he cried out in amazement, forgetting to give his own name. "That was the name of my first love—the one I was just remembering. Can you believe it?"
"What a lovely coincidence," Libby said with a smile. "But we've only introduced ourselves halfway. Should we finish the job?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, flustered.
"Well, I've introduced myself, but you haven't," she explained with a laugh. "What did you think I meant?"
"Oh, I didn't think anything," he began to defend himself. "My name is Victor."
"Victor, then. Well, finally, I know your name. Maybe it's time we switched to first names?"
Victor chuckled, nodded, and noted to himself that Libby was a very attractive woman. Talking to her was fun, easy, and incredibly engaging.
"So, Victor, are you staying at the resort?"
"Yes. I assume you are, too?"
"I am. It's a wonder we haven't run into each other at the dances."
"To be honest, Libby, I don't really go to the dances. I'd rather sit out in nature, wouldn't you?"
"It is beautiful here by the water, I agree," Libby replied enthusiastically. "But I love dancing, too. In fact, they're starting just about now. So, you're coming with me."
"No, I'm not going anywhere. Let's just take a walk instead."
"But I'm inviting you. It's rude to decline," Libby insisted.
"Well, I'm inviting you, too—on a romantic walk," the shy Victor countered. "The thing is, I can't dance at all. People will laugh."
"There's nothing to it! Come on, I'll show you. And after the dancing, I'll go for that walk with you."
"Won't it be too late by then?"
"It's never too late on vacation. You can sleep in tomorrow," the girl said decisively, leaving him with no more arguments.
His fear of the club was misplaced. Dancing to modern music turned out to be quite easy. Everyone just does their own thing. The main thing is to keep moving. Victor shuffled rhythmically, swayed to the beat, and occasionally hopped or waved his arms. However, he didn't feel any real pleasure. "I don't see what people find in this. The music is deafening, there's a crowd everywhere. It's stress, not a vacation."
Libby, however, was having the time of her life. She twirled, swayed, and moved with total abandon, closing her eyes in bliss. There was nothing but the music; everything else was irrelevant. Despite the irritating noise, Victor smiled happily. Watching her dance so freely, he realized he was starting to fall in love.
Finally, the thumping electronic beat gave way to a slow song, and a romantic Victor approached his companion. The sweet scent of her perfume made his head spin. He gently took her by the waist, and a slow dance began. It felt as if the people around them had vanished, leaving just the two of them in the room. They looked into each other's eyes and smiled. It was exquisite! For the first time, she was so close that Victor could feel her breath on his face and could almost accidentally brush against her soft cheek. His heart pounded wildly, and his mind drifted into fantasies. If only he could find the courage to give her a passionate kiss. But something held him back. He didn't want to seem too bold or risk offending her. And she, so close yet so far away, looked into his eyes and smiled temptingly.
But all good things must come to an end. After a few minutes, the romantic music faded, and the crowd headed for the exit. Realizing the dance was over, Victor sighed heavily and reluctantly let go.
"Well then. Will you go for that walk with me now?"
"You haven't changed your mind?" she asked slyly.
"No, I haven't," he replied so passionately and quickly that she could hardly suppress a giggle.
"Alright, a walk before bed is good for you. Let's go for a bit," Libby said in a serious tone, though a mischievous spark danced in her eyes. "Just wait for me a moment, okay? It's gotten a bit chilly out; I'm going to go to my room and grab something warmer."
***
The fresh evening air had an intoxicating effect on them. The two young people laughed, talked animatedly, teased each other harmlessly, and gazed at the starry sky. All the other guests had long since gone to bed, leaving them to wander alone. No matter what Libby talked about, he listened with rapt attention. Then, to his surprise, he realized he could be open and candid himself. Usually, he was very reserved, and conversations often stalled. That was why he preferred being alone. But with Libby, he was different—lighthearted, talkative, and fun. He found interesting things to talk about easily, understood her jokes instantly, and replied with quick wit.
Victor's head was spinning from the joy of her company, and he didn't want to think about the fact that they would soon have to part. He watched her without looking away and tried, as if by accident, to touch her hand. Libby, of course, understood everything, but she pretended not to notice. He tried to catch even the slightest hint in her behavior that she approved of his advances. Finally, unable to contain himself, he pulled her close. But Libby firmly broke away, gave him a stern look, and then gracefully wagged her finger.
"Don't forget, we're just friends."
There was a barely perceptible note of regret in her voice, and Victor's heart sank. He didn't say anything; he just walked on in silence. Then they turned toward the calm nighttime sea and spent a long time admiring its mysterious black expanse. They started skipping stones, laughing loudly and cheering at every successful throw.
"Look, look how far that one went!" Libby cried, clapping her hands.
"Mine went even further!" Victor declared proudly. "So I win!"
But, alas, there were failures too. And if a stone sank immediately, they were sincerely disappointed, just like children.
"Oh, that's too bad! Why did it sink so fast? I tried so hard!"
"It's okay, you can't win them all. I'll give you one more try."
The moon looked down pensively from the sky, bathing them in its soft, romantic light.
"You know, Victor, it's time for us to head back. I have to get up early tomorrow."
"What do you mean, get up early?" Victor asked, puzzled. "You said yourself that you don't need to get up early on vacation."
"You don't. But I'm leaving. I want to take my time packing so I don't forget anything," Libby explained sadly.
"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving so soon?"
"Well, you never asked. And I didn't want to upset you ahead of time. We had a wonderful time together, but what can you do? The fairy tale is over. Tomorrow I leave, and life goes back to normal. Back to the daily grind."
Victor didn't know what to say. The news of Libby's imminent departure caught him completely off guard. His heart began to race, and tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn't hold back his feelings anymore. Surprising even himself with his boldness, Victor did exactly what he had been dreaming of all evening. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her passionately on the lips. The sudden kiss left her stunned. She pulled away sharply, looked at Victor intently, and whispered in a low, trembling voice:
"Please, Victor, don't."
"Why are you doing this? I can feel it—you like me. Or am I wrong?"
"No, Victor, you're not wrong. I really do like you. I wouldn't have gone for a walk with you otherwise. But you see, I just can't. I'm not used to you yet; I don't really know you. Please understand and forgive me, but I need time. We barely know each other. Yes, I need time. And we don't have any."
"You know, I'm really sorry. But that's your decision, and I won't hold it against you."
"Thank you for understanding," Libby replied with a sad smile. "I'm also very sorry that fate didn't give us more time. But don't be sad; things will work out somehow. Everything will be fine for both you and me. Oh, why do you look so miserable, like you're about to cry? Please, smile. It'll make me feel a little better, too."
Victor gave a reluctant smile and then sighed heavily.
"Don't worry, it's fine. It's just, you know, I really like you. I've never felt so good with anyone before. We've barely met, but it feels like I've known you my whole life. To be honest—I'm crazy about you. You're the most beautiful, wonderful, and interesting woman in the world. I understand everything. I just want you to know."
Finishing his impassioned speech, Victor sighed again, lifted her hand to his lips, and kissed it gently.
"And now, let's go," he said, struggling to hold back his tears.
"Yes, Victor, let's go. I really need to get to bed," the girl replied sadly, gently stroking his hair. "I'm sorry, you're a very good man. But there really is no time."
***
That night, an agitated Victor couldn't sleep at all. He sat on the balcony until morning, feeling sad and staring at the moon. And the moon seemed to say:
"Why did you let yourself dream like that?"
Indeed, why? But he couldn't stop thinking about her. He kept replaying the beautiful moments of the evening in his mind, imagining they were together again.
In the morning, he went out to say goodbye. He helped load her suitcases into the taxi, then caught her by the hand, and they stood still, looking into each other's eyes. The taxi driver, watching the scene, cleared his throat awkwardly and said:
"We're out of time; the train leaves soon."
"Oh, right," Libby said, snapping back to reality.
"Well then, goodbye," Victor whispered, barely audible.
"You're a very good man, Victor, but I have to go."
"And I'll be all alone…"
Libby brushed away a tear, placed her hands on his shoulders, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him gently on the cheek.
"You're a very, very good man," she said again and, looking sad, walked toward the car.
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