Things get better--hurt less--over time. If you let them.

You can be Han Solo," he said, kissing her throat. "And I'll be Boba Fett. I'll cross the sky for you.

His parents never talked about how they met, but when Park was younger, he used to try to imagine it. He loved how much they loved each other. It was the thing he thought about when he woke up scared in the middle of the night. Not that they loved him--they were his parents, they had to love him. That they loved each other. They didn't have to do that.

She didn't want to run, period. It made her breasts feel like they were going to detach from her body.

Don't make me angry-kiss you.

It was the best kind of November day. Cold and crisp, but not quite freezing, not icy. Just cold enough that she could justifiably wear all her favorite clothes—cardigans and tights and leg warmers.

And when Eleanor smiled, something broke inside of him. Something always did.