Chapter 119.2

Chapter 119.2

To: andre@h0tmail.com
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Passed!

I’ve wanted to ask for a long time… of all the photos you could’ve chosen, why did you carry that one around? You’re not still carrying it, are you?

I’m embarrassed. I shouldn’t have sent it. Can’t you carry a different picture instead?

– Miran

—

To: miran@h0tmail.com
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Passed!

I’m still carrying it. Because it’s funny.

If you don’t like that, take another one and send it to me.

Now tell me you love me.

– André

—

To: andre@h0tmail.com
Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Passed!

Honestly. Do I really have to say it out loud?

– Miran

PS. I love you. Is that enough?

—

To: miran@h0tmail.com
Subject: Kang Miran

I’m crazy about you and you’ll never know how much. Love you. (You’ll never know how crazy I am about you for the rest of your life. I love you.)

– André

—

1996. December 23, Monday.

Miran stepped out of the arrivals hall at JFK with her suitcase packed full of summer clothes, a swimsuit, and André’s birthday present.

She spotted a man standing with his arms crossed, scanning the crowd with only his eyes moving, his face expressionless and carrying that familiar intimidating aura. Miran beamed and waved at him.

A faint smile flickered in the man’s eyes above the heads around him, loosening the strict line of his mouth.

“André!”

Her steps quickened until she practically ran, throwing herself into his arms. Even in the middle of a noisy airport, she could hear the strong, steady thump of his heartbeat in her ears.

André cupped her face in both hands, tilted her chin up, and lowered his head. The kiss he gave her was soft and lingering. When he finally drew back, Miran’s cheeks were burning.

Kissing in public.

Something she’d only seen in movies, never experienced herself.

André seemed completely unconcerned with the people around them, looking down at her with a heated gaze. Maybe he really hadn’t been avoiding public dates after all.

“How was your flight?”

The ticket he had given her was first class. At first she’d wondered if she should even accept something like that, but she had decided it was time to get used to the things he offered out of affection. When she hesitated over the first class ticket before leaving Korea, Juran had given her advice.

“Don’t overthink it. When you love someone, wanting to give them the best you have is instinct. Maybe not for us, but for someone like André it is. Refusing pure kindness just because it’s too nice is the real foolishness. You two have to meet in the middle, you know that better than anyone else.”

Miran smiled.

“It was wonderful. So good that I was sad the flight ended. Thank you, André.”

André returned her smile, showing his straight white teeth. Miran clutched her chest dramatically and groaned.

“Oh no. Smiling like that should be illegal. Don’t ever smile like that in front of anyone else.”

He laughed out loud and squeezed her in a tight hug. Then, letting her go, he took her hand and led her toward departures.

Before she’d even set foot properly on New York soil, they were already boarding a flight to San Juan, Puerto Rico.

He’d told her to bring summer clothes, so she suspected they were going somewhere warm. But being whisked away straight from the airport like a kidnap victim was unexpected. Luckily she had been able to rest comfortably in first class; otherwise the schedule would’ve been brutal.

After a four hour flight, they switched to a small plane and flew another hour until they arrived at Virgin Gorda, one of the British Virgin Islands, by late afternoon.

A man with warm brown skin and gentle eyes greeted them at the airport, introducing himself as Sammy, their butler.

He drove them for ten minutes in a limousine. They arrived at a resort entrance marked by a guard post built in a Caribbean-style roof surrounded by dense tropical greenery.

Once the gate lifted and they passed through, clusters of villas with sharp traditional roofs appeared like a small fishing village. The limousine stopped in front of one of the larger buildings topped with multiple roofs.

Following Sammy, they transferred to a golf cart. Miran leaned back comfortably, stealing a side glance at André as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders from behind.

He had rolled up the sleeves of a crisp white linen shirt that suited the summer weather, pairing it with pale blue pants the color of the sea.

Every time the salty breeze brushed past, the loose fringe on his forehead fluttered lightly, teasing her with glimpses of his perfect profile.

Seeing André so relaxed, in a way she rarely ever saw, was unbearably sexy. It was already hot, but Miran felt her heart pump heated blood through every limb.

She wondered how André would react if she grabbed his shirt tight enough to wrinkle it, yanked him closer, and kissed him.

A tremor ran through her. A slow, warm pressure tightened in her lower belly. Then a sign flashed past at the edge of her vision, making her tilt her head.

This time she was sure she hadn’t imagined it. Miran tugged on André’s sleeve and whispered into his ear.

“André, I… I think I just saw something strange.”

“Hm?”