#Moon Ok Gyeong X Seo Hye Rang

[riecurrents]

finally revised it after watching ep 10 aka okgyeong's unhinged real face reveal:P

Can you do a moon okgyeong x hyerang fic because I can't see them parting ways😭😭😭 I want them to be together!!!! Can you do a little smut with them please or just happy times🥺🥺

Then, let me offer you a short fanfic I've made about them not long ago (aka right after the legendaric forehead bump scene oh my fucking gosh). This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now because I can't seem to get satisfied with it. I hope you like it though!

REKINDLING

MOON OKGYEONG x SEO HYERANG

WORDS: 1.5k

SYNOPSIS: After years apart, former lovers and Maeran Gukgeuk Troupe stars Okgyeong and Hyerang reunite by chance, confronting past mistakes and rekindling a love they thought was lost forever.

Okgyeong doesn’t know what came to her mind when she drove her car all the way here.

Perhaps it was out of habit? Okgyeong shakes her head in dismay as she tries to convince herself that she just misses the good old days. After all, she has been pursuing her new life in the movie career for years now. She couldn’t be happier, she doesn’t feel sick of it all, and most of all, she doesn’t feel collared in the chains of Hyerang’s obsession over their roles as Maeran Gukgeuk Trope’s prince and princess, as well as her lack of responsibility and aversion to confrontations.

So why is she here, then? This is the cafe Hyerang and Okgyeong used to go to when they were still dating. 

Albeit confused by herself, Okgyeong gets out of the car. She will just see how much the place has changed. And perhaps order a drink along the way.

However, memories start flooding back as soon as she sets her feet inside. For instance, the dim lights Hyerang used to complain about, the smell of roasted beans that had always made Hyerang inhale deeply out of habit as soon as they entered—it was like no time had passed.

I just want to see how much the place has changed, or so Okgyeong says, because all she thinks of right now is Hyerang. Hyerang’s habits. Hyerang’s mannerisms. Hyerang’s laugh. Hyerang, Hyerang, Hyerang.

She lets out an exhausted sigh, mood already sour. Maybe she’ll just take out the drink and leave for good. “One iced americano, please.” Until she realizes she did so out of habit. Why would she say that, when she barely drinks iced americano in the first place?

It is until she realizes; this is Hyerang’s favorite. Back in the day, she orders it so Hyerang could have seconds whenever they hang out together. Oh god, she whispers to herself.

“Yes? Did you change your mind?” the waiter asks. Okgyeong, not realizing she had expressed her dismay out loud, shakes her head and mouths the waiter sorry.

As if the matter at hand can't get worse, a familiar face catches her attention.

There goes Hyerang—with her posture as graceful as ever yet now quieter in presence—standing at the counter and waiting for her order. Her hair is shorter now, albeit still curled nicely (Okgyeong almost chuckles upon remembering that she used to scold Hyerang for taking three good hours preparing her hair, almost getting them late during practices) and her clothes are casual—no sign of the fierce, ambitious actress who had once been the Troupe’s princess. Okgyeong’s heart skips and she almost gets the urge to storm away without waiting for her order, but she knows this moment has to come eventually.

Okgyeong then walks, takes a deep breath, and calls the familiar name out softly—for years-long of keeping it in, “Hyerang.”

Hyerang’s shoulders tense, eyes widening as she turns to see Okgyeong’s face. It’s hard to read her reaction—a mix of longing, guilt, and something else… fear? Are you scared? Why are you scared? Okgyeong almost asks.

Hyerang’s voice is barely a whisper when she utters, “O-Okyeong…?”

“It’s been a while,” Okgyeong smiles, her tone cordial, but there’s a warmth in her eyes that’s just hard to ignore—a warmth that had always sent Hyerang’s heart into oblivion. “Mind if I join you?”

Hyerang blinked, taken aback. “I—no, I just… I—wait what?”

“I asked if I could join you.” If not for consideration for this poor abashed woman, Okgyeong would’ve laughed.

“Of course you could!” Hyerang panicky replies out loud, her usual cadence and confidence thrown off somewhere else as her demeanor screams sheer surprise. Isn’t Okgyeong angry at me? She could only ask herself.

They found a table by the window. Hyerang can't settle on her seat as the silence stretches out like a thin wire. Okgyeong catches the girl fidgeting with her coffee cup, fingers tracing the rim anxiously. Strange, she almost blurts out. The Hyerang she remembered had always been confident, composed, unyielding—especially when it came to them—to the roles they played both on and off stage.

“I—uh—didn’t expect to see you here,” Hyerang finally manages to speak, her voice brittle. “You seem to be doing so well. I’m glad.”

Okgyeong smiles, small but appreciative. “I needed the change. But I missed the theater. I miss a lot of things from back then.”

Hyerang’s gaze drops at the mention of their former career, her fingers tightening around the cup. “You’ve moved on. That’s good. You deserve it.”

Okgyeong waits—five minutes or so, just until the waiter delivers her and Hyerang’s drink—until she admits, “I wouldn’t find myself here in this coffee shop had I genuinely moved on. Now that we talk about it, I wonder if I really deserve the change.”

Hyerang’s breath hitches, her face a mix of surprise and regret. “Okgyeong, I’m so—” but she cuts herself midway. After everything she had done, apologies are beyond enough, just as Okgyeong had told her back then at the height of her anger. She purses her lips and stays silent.

“But I’m not angry, not anymore, especially not at you,” Okgyeong’s poignant gaze is at the window as she adds, “I realized long ago that I can’t stay angry at you.”

“But Okgyeong, after all that I have done? Please, can you just—”

“Let’s not pretend it was easy for either of us,” Okgyeong interrupts, her voice gentle but firm as she stares at Hyerang. “I know what happened—why you were that way. I can see now how much we hurt each other, but I can also see how much we loved.”

Hyerang shakes her head, closing her eyes briefly. “I was terrible to you, to everyone. I was obsessed with keeping you close, with making sure we stayed at the top. I hurt people to protect us, but in the end, I just pushed you away. I can’t make up for that.”

Okgyeong reaches out, covering Hyerang’s hand with her own. “And you need to recognize that it wasn't just your fault. I was just as bad as you.”

“Stop trying to comfort me.”

“I know what you had been doing behind the curtains just to hide my past, just for my career to flourish. And yet I wasn't decent enough to call you out for it,” Okgyeong finally drops the very much-needed bomb. “I wasn't decent enough to give you the closure you deserve after all your efforts.” Then the memories of Director Kang's words strike her, making her chuckle defeatedly. “The night I left Maeran, the director told me I have no sense of responsibility, and those words couldn't be truer. I left not because of what you did, but because I needed to find myself outside the roles we were trapped in.”

The confession hung between them, raw and honest. Hyerang bites her trembling lips, hands still under Okgyeong’s.

She had missed the feeling of her skin so much. Oh, the countless nights she bawled her eyes out, wanting to feel her again—raw and whole, without any interruptions, without guilt and regrets.

“All this time, I thought you still hate me,” she admits, her voice breaking. “I mean, I wouldn’t forgive me either.” 

“There’s nothing to be forgiven if it’s you we’re talking about.”

Hyerang tries to chuckle—futilely so—because her eyes tearing up can easily show Okgyeong how she really feels. “Y-you deserve to find yourself, though. And all the things that came with that. All of it.”

“But that never made me miss you less.”

Hyerang’s eyes widen. The corner of her lips shakes. Still, she tries to change the topic instead of giving in to the urge. “I…I saw your latest movie. It was very wonderful.”

“Really? You know, I’ve heard the Director had asked you to mentor the Maeran kids when you two patched things up. They’ve improved a lot.” Okgyeong’s fingers rub Hyerang’s in circular motions, a habit she had when they were still together. And yet, Hyerang couldn’t gather the urge to point it out. She couldn’t collect the gall to say that Okgyeong should stop doing it because they’d broken up so long ago. “They seem to carry your cadence on stage now.”

“Oh, you—” Hyerang could only chuckle. Such a high praise from Maeran’s former prince. “They wouldn’t reach where they are now had it not been for your mentoring when they were trainees. It was you who have seen their potential.”

Silence envelops their spot, but Okgyeong’s hands still can’t leave Hyerang’s. It’s still rubbing circular motions on her pinky. And Hyerang still couldn’t garner the needed urge to shove them away.

How could Hyerang, when she had yearned for it for years?

“Do you… do you want to try again?” Okgyeong starts.

The question—which Okgyeong deems shameless beyond repair—flinches Hyeran in surprise. She has to withdraw one hand from Okgyeong’s hold just to pinch her legs under the table—a habit to check if she was dreaming.

“Let’s take it slow, without the roles, without the theater. Just us—” she pauses, seemingly forgetting something, “—and Eun Jae, our lovely girl, all grown-up now. I’ve read her letters. She misses me so much.”

“Okgyeong, are you sure?” Hyerang’s eyes dart everywhere but Okgyeong’s, panic seemingly wrapping up her nerves. “I’m wicked, rotten to my core. I am not even sure if I’ve changed. And I—”

“And I’m willing to stand beside you as you fix your ways, only if you’d be willing to point out mine when I stray away,” Okgyeong promises. “Remember the good old days, when we point out each other’s mistakes during practice?”

Hyerang shakes her head in frustration, clearly thinking she’s undeserving of any of that. “Moon Okgyeong, you need to remember how I hurt you.”

“And yet all I could remember is how much I’ve missed holding you in my arms as we sleep.” 

Lament fills Okgyeong’s voice and face, thinking how Hyerang is talking as if she’s the only one at fault. As much as she wants to reiterate that it’s not the case, it only goes to show how badly she fumbled back then. She certainly did not love Hyerang the way she deserved. What made her gather the gall to even go here, let alone ask for the princess’ love again? 

She gulps the lump forming up in her throat as she realizes; it must be the desperation. As much as she’s guilty, Okgyeong is first and foremost, a shameless woman who cannot live without the things she deems dear to her. Only when she and Hyerang part ways did she realize that the latter is just as important—no, Hyerang is and will always be the most important part of her life, the only person who unknowingly could tone down the voices in her head, the only thing she could love amidst everything in this world that easily makes her sick, and most of all, the only person who could love her for the brazen, empty shell that she is.

“All I could think of right now is how much I want to hold you in my arms again tonight. And the nights after that,” she reiterates, “You might’ve hurt me, but not as much as I’ve hurt you. I should be more than ashamed to wish for it—that much I know—but I’ve been nothing but an empty shell who’s been impudent ever since.”

That’s more than enough to render Hyerang into silence, her negotiations long gone and futile. Okgyeong misses her. Her dearest Okgyeong had missed her the same way she did. 

How could she let Okgyeong feel that way? is all she could think of at this moment.

“I’ll understand if you don’t want me anymore. I wouldn’t want me either. But Hyerang, if you ought to, just please reject me properly,” Okgyeong scoots nearer, her eyes unrelenting to let the point register to the teary-eyed girl. “Reject me because I’m a shameless prick who never deserved you, not because you think lowly of yourself to receive my love.”

Finally, Hyerang’s composure finally breaks. She starts crying—weakly so—and Okgyeong does what she does best—quietly wiping Hyerang’s tears away.

“Could you do that for me, princess?”

“How could I push you away, when all I’ve wanted is for you to hold me like this?”

An inexplicable warmth wraps Okgyeong’s constantly empty heart. Why had she not realized it before? The emptiness she was running away from all this time has always been easily filled with Hyerang’s unconditional love. Only if she didn’t take it for granted, her princess wouldn’t be weeping this much in front of her.

“And I will do just that,” Okgyeong cups her cheeks. “I will hold you as long as you want me to, at least until you’re sick of me.”

“I could never,” Hyerang chuckles amidst her tears. “You know me that much.”

Okgyeong closes the distance even more, her fingers playing around Hyerang’s cheeks as if testing the waters. Then she tilts her head slightly with her knowing, shameless smile, “Then it’s all good, don’t you think?” Her lips meet hers gently, the first touch tentative, the next one more fervent. Her other hand moves up to cup Hyerang’s other cheek, steadying her as the kiss deepens, slow and tender, just as they had both waited for it. When they finally pull back, their foreheads touch, breaths and smiles mingling in the glow of the moment. They sit there, the years of heartbreak and worries long gone down the drain as they finally find their way back to each other.

“Have this fool stick around you for the rest of your days then.”

[teafiend]

*fangirl screech* ✨😳❤️‍🔥

[fairweathermyth]

You can’t do this! Who do you think saved you from your opium addiction? I even had Mr. Ko bribe the press with money from the troupe! --- Goodbye, Princess.

JEONGNYEON: THE STAR IS BORN Episode Ten

[riecurrents]

i should've waited for episode 10 first before making an okgyeong x hyerang fic because what the hell

the dynamics and narrative i could've added had i known this would be how their divorce would go. the fruity fact that it wasn't just hyerang who was a red flag all this time and okgyeong isn't as pure as we thought she was. please please pleaseeee the toxic doomed yurism. the crisp. the flavor. dear god

[riecurrents]

and they were so right

[teafiend]

[teafiend]

[teafiend]

Edits credited to @verchae_89 (Twitter/X)

[teafiend]

[fairweathermyth]

~ Ok-gyeong needs to remain a prince forever. ~

JEONGNYEON: THE STAR IS BORN Episode Seven

[riecurrents]

Can you do a moon okgyeong x hyerang fic because I can't see them parting ways😭😭😭 I want them to be together!!!! Can you do a little smut with them please or just happy times🥺🥺

Then, let me offer you a short fanfic I've made about them not long ago (aka right after the legendaric forehead bump scene oh my fucking gosh). This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now because I can't seem to get satisfied with it. I hope you like it though!

REKINDLING

MOON OKGYEONG x SEO HYERANG

WORDS: 1.5k

SYNOPSIS: After years apart, former lovers and Maeran Gukgeuk Troupe stars Okgyeong and Hyerang reunite by chance, confronting past mistakes and rekindling a love they thought was lost forever.

Okgyeong doesn’t know what came to her mind when she drove her car all the way here.

Perhaps it was out of habit? Okgyeong shakes her head in dismay as she tries to convince herself that she just misses the good old days. After all, she has been pursuing her new life in the movie career for years now. She couldn’t be happier, she doesn’t feel sick of it all, and most of all, she doesn’t feel collared in the chains of Hyerang’s obsession over their roles as Maeran Gukgeuk Trope’s prince and princess, as well as her lack of responsibility and aversion to confrontations.

So why is she here, then? This is the cafe Hyerang and Okgyeong used to go to when they were still dating. 

Albeit confused by herself, Okgyeong gets out of the car. She will just see how much the place has changed. And perhaps order a drink along the way.

However, memories start flooding back as soon as she sets her feet inside. For instance, the dim lights Hyerang used to complain about, the smell of roasted beans that had always made Hyerang inhale deeply out of habit as soon as they entered—it was like no time had passed.

I just want to see how much the place has changed, or so Okgyeong says, because all she thinks of right now is Hyerang. Hyerang’s habits. Hyerang’s mannerisms. Hyerang’s laugh. Hyerang, Hyerang, Hyerang.

She lets out an exhausted sigh, mood already sour. Maybe she’ll just take out the drink and leave for good. “One iced americano, please.” Until she realizes she did so out of habit. Why would she say that, when she barely drinks iced americano in the first place?

It is until she realizes; this is Hyerang’s favorite. Back in the day, she orders it so Hyerang could have seconds whenever they hang out together. Oh god, she whispers to herself.

“Yes? Did you change your mind?” the waiter asks. Okgyeong, not realizing she had expressed her dismay out loud, shakes her head and mouths the waiter sorry.

As if the matter at hand can't get worse, a familiar face catches her attention.

There goes Hyerang—with her posture as graceful as ever yet now quieter in presence—standing at the counter and waiting for her order. Her hair is shorter now, albeit still curled nicely (Okgyeong almost chuckles upon remembering that she used to scold Hyerang for taking three good hours preparing her hair, almost getting them late during practices) and her clothes are casual—no sign of the fierce, ambitious actress who had once been the Troupe’s princess. Okgyeong’s heart skips and she almost gets the urge to storm away without waiting for her order, but she knows this moment has to come eventually.

Okgyeong then walks, takes a deep breath, and calls the familiar name out softly—for years-long of keeping it in, “Hyerang.”

Hyerang’s shoulders tense, eyes widening as she turns to see Okgyeong’s face. It’s hard to read her reaction—a mix of longing, guilt, and something else… fear? Are you scared? Why are you scared? Okgyeong almost asks.

Hyerang’s voice is barely a whisper when she utters, “O-Okyeong…?”

“It’s been a while,” Okgyeong smiles, her tone cordial, but there’s a warmth in her eyes that’s just hard to ignore—a warmth that had always sent Hyerang’s heart into oblivion. “Mind if I join you?”

Hyerang blinked, taken aback. “I—no, I just… I—wait what?”

“I asked if I could join you.” If not for consideration for this poor abashed woman, Okgyeong would’ve laughed.

“Of course you could!” Hyerang panicky replies out loud, her usual cadence and confidence thrown off somewhere else as her demeanor screams sheer surprise. Isn’t Okgyeong angry at me? She could only ask herself.

They found a table by the window. Hyerang can't settle on her seat as the silence stretches out like a thin wire. Okgyeong catches the girl fidgeting with her coffee cup, fingers tracing the rim anxiously. Strange, she almost blurts out. The Hyerang she remembered had always been confident, composed, unyielding—especially when it came to them—to the roles they played both on and off stage.

“I—uh—didn’t expect to see you here,” Hyerang finally manages to speak, her voice brittle. “You seem to be doing so well. I’m glad.”

Okgyeong smiles, small but appreciative. “I needed the change. But I missed the theater. I miss a lot of things from back then.”

Hyerang’s gaze drops at the mention of their former career, her fingers tightening around the cup. “You’ve moved on. That’s good. You deserve it.”

Okgyeong waits—five minutes or so, just until the waiter delivers her and Hyerang’s drink—until she admits, “I wouldn’t find myself here in this coffee shop had I genuinely moved on. Now that we talk about it, I wonder if I really deserve the change.”

Hyerang’s breath hitches, her face a mix of surprise and regret. “Okgyeong, I’m so—” but she cuts herself midway. After everything she had done, apologies are beyond enough, just as Okgyeong had told her back then at the height of her anger. She purses her lips and stays silent.

“But I’m not angry, not anymore, especially not at you,” Okgyeong’s poignant gaze is at the window as she adds, “I realized long ago that I can’t stay angry at you.”

“But Okgyeong, after all that I have done? Please, can you just—”

“Let’s not pretend it was easy for either of us,” Okgyeong interrupts, her voice gentle but firm as she stares at Hyerang. “I know what happened—why you were that way. I can see now how much we hurt each other, but I can also see how much we loved.”

Hyerang shakes her head, closing her eyes briefly. “I was terrible to you, to everyone. I was obsessed with keeping you close, with making sure we stayed at the top. I hurt people to protect us, but in the end, I just pushed you away. I can’t make up for that.”

Okgyeong reaches out, covering Hyerang’s hand with her own. “And you need to recognize that it wasn't just your fault. I was just as bad as you.”

“Stop trying to comfort me.”

“I know what you had been doing behind the curtains just to hide my past, just for my career to flourish. And yet I wasn't decent enough to call you out for it,” Okgyeong finally drops the very much-needed bomb. “I wasn't decent enough to give you the closure you deserve after all your efforts.” Then the memories of Director Kang's words strike her, making her chuckle defeatedly. “The night I left Maeran, the director told me I have no sense of responsibility, and those words couldn't be truer. I left not because of what you did, but because I needed to find myself outside the roles we were trapped in.”

The confession hung between them, raw and honest. Hyerang bites her trembling lips, hands still under Okgyeong’s.

She had missed the feeling of her skin so much. Oh, the countless nights she bawled her eyes out, wanting to feel her again—raw and whole, without any interruptions, without guilt and regrets.

“All this time, I thought you still hate me,” she admits, her voice breaking. “I mean, I wouldn’t forgive me either.” 

“There’s nothing to be forgiven if it’s you we’re talking about.”

Hyerang tries to chuckle—futilely so—because her eyes tearing up can easily show Okgyeong how she really feels. “Y-you deserve to find yourself, though. And all the things that came with that. All of it.”

“But that never made me miss you less.”

Hyerang’s eyes widen. The corner of her lips shakes. Still, she tries to change the topic instead of giving in to the urge. “I…I saw your latest movie. It was very wonderful.”

“Really? You know, I’ve heard the Director had asked you to mentor the Maeran kids when you two patched things up. They’ve improved a lot.” Okgyeong’s fingers rub Hyerang’s in circular motions, a habit she had when they were still together. And yet, Hyerang couldn’t gather the urge to point it out. She couldn’t collect the gall to say that Okgyeong should stop doing it because they’d broken up so long ago. “They seem to carry your cadence on stage now.”

“Oh, you—” Hyerang could only chuckle. Such a high praise from Maeran’s former prince. “They wouldn’t reach where they are now had it not been for your mentoring when they were trainees. It was you who have seen their potential.”

Silence envelops their spot, but Okgyeong’s hands still can’t leave Hyerang’s. It’s still rubbing circular motions on her pinky. And Hyerang still couldn’t garner the needed urge to shove them away.

How could Hyerang, when she had yearned for it for years?

“Do you… do you want to try again?” Okgyeong starts.

The question—which Okgyeong deems shameless beyond repair—flinches Hyeran in surprise. She has to withdraw one hand from Okgyeong’s hold just to pinch her legs under the table—a habit to check if she was dreaming.

“Let’s take it slow, without the roles, without the theater. Just us—” she pauses, seemingly forgetting something, “—and Eun Jae, our lovely girl, all grown-up now. I’ve read her letters. She misses me so much.”

“Okgyeong, are you sure?” Hyerang’s eyes dart everywhere but Okgyeong’s, panic seemingly wrapping up her nerves. “I’m wicked, rotten to my core. I am not even sure if I’ve changed. And I—”

“And I’m willing to stand beside you as you fix your ways, only if you’d be willing to point out mine when I stray away,” Okgyeong promises. “Remember the good old days, when we point out each other’s mistakes during practice?”

Hyerang shakes her head in frustration, clearly thinking she’s undeserving of any of that. “Moon Okgyeong, you need to remember how I hurt you.”

“And yet all I could remember is how much I’ve missed holding you in my arms as we sleep.” 

Lament fills Okgyeong’s voice and face, thinking how Hyerang is talking as if she’s the only one at fault. As much as she wants to reiterate that it’s not the case, it only goes to show how badly she fumbled back then. She certainly did not love Hyerang the way she deserved. What made her gather the gall to even go here, let alone ask for the princess’ love again? 

She gulps the lump forming up in her throat as she realizes; it must be the desperation. As much as she’s guilty, Okgyeong is first and foremost, a shameless woman who cannot live without the things she deems dear to her. Only when she and Hyerang part ways did she realize that the latter is just as important—no, Hyerang is and will always be the most important part of her life, the only person who unknowingly could tone down the voices in her head, the only thing she could love amidst everything in this world that easily makes her sick, and most of all, the only person who could love her for the brazen, empty shell that she is.

“All I could think of right now is how much I want to hold you in my arms again tonight. And the nights after that,” she reiterates, “You might’ve hurt me, but not as much as I’ve hurt you. I should be more than ashamed to wish for it—that much I know—but I’ve been nothing but an empty shell who’s been impudent ever since.”

That’s more than enough to render Hyerang into silence, her negotiations long gone and futile. Okgyeong misses her. Her dearest Okgyeong had missed her the same way she did. 

How could she let Okgyeong feel that way? is all she could think of at this moment.

“I’ll understand if you don’t want me anymore. I wouldn’t want me either. But Hyerang, if you ought to, just please reject me properly,” Okgyeong scoots nearer, her eyes unrelenting to let the point register to the teary-eyed girl. “Reject me because I’m a shameless prick who never deserved you, not because you think lowly of yourself to receive my love.”

Finally, Hyerang’s composure finally breaks. She starts crying—weakly so—and Okgyeong does what she does best—quietly wiping Hyerang’s tears away.

“Could you do that for me, princess?”

“How could I push you away, when all I’ve wanted is for you to hold me like this?”

An inexplicable warmth wraps Okgyeong’s constantly empty heart. Why had she not realized it before? The emptiness she was running away from all this time has always been easily filled with Hyerang’s unconditional love. Only if she didn’t take it for granted, her princess wouldn’t be weeping this much in front of her.

“And I will do just that,” Okgyeong cups her cheeks. “I will hold you as long as you want me to, at least until you’re sick of me.”

“I could never,” Hyerang chuckles amidst her tears. “You know me that much.”

Okgyeong closes the distance even more, her fingers playing around Hyerang’s cheeks as if testing the waters. Then she tilts her head slightly with her knowing, shameless smile, “Then it’s all good, don’t you think?” Her lips meet hers gently, the first touch tentative, the next one more fervent. Her other hand moves up to cup Hyerang’s other cheek, steadying her as the kiss deepens, slow and tender, just as they had both waited for it. When they finally pull back, their foreheads touch, breaths and smiles mingling in the glow of the moment. They sit there, the years of heartbreak and worries long gone down the drain as they finally find their way back to each other.

“Have this fool stick around you for the rest of your days then.”