The car ride back to the penthouse felt longer than usual. Maybe because every second I wasn’t with her had stretched into a quiet kind of longing. The kind that plays between breaths. The kind that waits.
My phone buzzed just as we passed the Namsan Tower.
Dora: Can I call you, or are the Kings too royal for that now?
I smiled and tapped Call. She answered almost immediately.
“Hey,” she said, her voice like the hush of an art gallery—soft, but full of color.
“Hey, sunshine,” I murmured, slumping a little deeper into my seat. “You okay?”
“I am now,” she said, with that gentle half-laugh that always made my chest tighten. “I just wanted to hear your voice before you got all swallowed up by cameras and fans again.”
“I was already swallowed,” I joked. “Barely escaped with my dignity intact. You should see me out there”
She giggled.
“Okay ‘Superstar’. How was your day?” she asked.
I let out a long breath and watched the skyline blur past the window.