Qingran's eyes softened, her throat tightening at the tenderness in his voice. She pressed the phone closer, as if doing so would bring him nearer. "You say the sappiest things when you're not around," she whispered, blinking back the sting in her eyes.
"I'll say them every day if it means you'll smile like that," Feng Yizhou said, his tone warm and breathless. "Tu es mon amour. Mon monde. Without you, the days have no light."
Qingran let out a quiet laugh. "French now?"
"I've been studying," he said proudly. "Te quiero, Qingran. Eres mi corazón."
"You've been studying that much?"
"I want to tell you I love you in every language I can find. Wo ai ni. Saranghae. Aishiteru. You are—my whole world."
She exhaled shakily, heart full. "Yizhou…"
"Qingran," he murmured. "You're everything to me. Everything. If I could trade places with you right now, I would. Just to hold your hand again. To make you rest. You always carry everything alone."
