He pulled back from the kiss, as slowly as if time itself had slowed with him. His forehead rested against hers, and his eyes glistened with a softness Rosy hadn’t seen in years.
“Saranghae,” he whispered, the word trembling off his lips in his own language.
Rosy’s lips curved into a small smile.
“Sarang…hae.” She repeated carefully, her voice low and tender, before hugging him again, her arms winding around him telling him she’d never let go.
Orion closed his eyes and smiled, wrapping his arms tightly around her. His chest swelled with pride, she had finally mastered his language. She had tried before, stumbling over the syllables, laughing in frustration, but hearing it now from her, it felt like music to his ears.
He was half-Korean, half-Parisian. His mother was from Paris, his fa
