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After his fitting, we went for lunch in a Korean-French fusion restaurant with a private dining area.

All of that was great – the food and the fashion – but the way we spent the rest of the day was my favourite part.

We went back to our hotel, ordered a whole tray of miniature desserts from room service and had a movie marathon. I fell asleep with my head in Jihoon’s lap as he ran his fingers through my hair, only stirring when he carried me to bed and curled around me.

Perfect.

October 2nd

I woke up and stretched, star-fishing across the soft sheets.

A deep, sleepy groan made me grin as my foot made contact with a muscled thigh. My lazy smile transformed into a yelp as two hands wrapped around my ankle and I was pulled across the bed into the warmth of Jihoon’s body. His arms closed around me, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck, nuzzling me and humming against my skin.

“Good morning to you, too,” I sighed happily.

It felt impossible that this might ever be something I got used to. That there would ever be a day where this felt normal, and not a pocket of stolen time where we hid from the world.

My throat felt tight even as the rest of my body felt warm and languorous in the circle of his arms, and I shuffled further back to feel the warmth of his skin against my own.

“Jagiya?” he asked quietly, brushing his lips along the nape of my neck. “Are you okay?”

I took a deep breath, remembering what my mum had said once.

Sometimes we don’t get the time we think we will.

I didn’t want to hide anymore. I shifted until I was on my back, looking up at him. His eyes were warm in the gentle morning light as they held mine.

“I love you.”

His brows furrowed for just a moment before his expression morphed into something new. His eyes shone, and I marvelled at the way the gold in his irises seemed to flicker.

“Say that again,” he said roughly.

“I love you.”

He exhaled shakily, blinking a few times before he pressed his forehead to mine.

“Again.”

I raised my hands to wrap around his waist, running my fingers up his sides to his back.

“I love you, Baek Jihoon.”

He cupped my jaw, angling my face so he could capture my lips with his. They were warm, and so soft as they moved against mine.

“I love you, Kaiya,” he murmured. “I will always love you.”

“Come what may?” I grinned as he pressed kisses to the corner of my lips, my jaw, down the column of my throat.

Lower.

“I will love you,” he promised against my skin, and in my head, I heard the song echoing, a memory of watching Moulin Rouge from a hotel room in Paris.

Considering how busy Jihoon’s schedule was, it was miraculous that we got nearly the whole morning to just exist. He was going to Lee’s hotel to get ready with him to keep up the pretence that he was also staying there, but his team wasn’t due to arrive until twelve. We spent the morning in bed, and then ate breakfast in front of the open balcony doors. It was frankly a little cold to have them open, but we were in Paris with the Eiffel Tower down the road. We kept them open.

He left just after eleven, but not before kissing me deeply while I reclined on the sofa, slipping his hands inside my robe, and then groaning as he had to tear himself away.

“I love you,” I said in between kisses, apparently unable to go a full hour without saying it, now that I’d said it once.