"Fool," he hisses. "I'm devastated."
Her lips part to a shattered exhale.
"Seo..."
His hand trails across her cheek and fingers wave through her hair. His forehead rests against hers.
"Let me steal a moment, just one." he mutters. "I need to pick pieces of myself."
Seo had that tall, lean built of a Kang that even when he bows before her, Seol has to tip her head upwards to touch his forehead with hers. The movement displaces her winter hat; it catches the breeze and sweeps off – flapping the veil with it. Seol cares none. Instead, she raises a hand to cradle his face. Seo startles at the touch but her fingers threading into his hair holds him in place.
