Chris paused mid-sip, eyes narrowing over the rim of the cup. My heart. Little moon. All morning, even last night, he'd been using those words. Not just once, but over and over. Not teasing nicknames nor random sahan phrases, but the kind of words that meant something when said in sahan.
He lowered the cup slowly. "You keep calling me that," he said. "Heart. Moon. All those things. Do you talk to everyone like that?"
Dax's tablet slid down onto his knee. He didn't look away from Chris, but his posture stayed relaxed, one ankle resting on the opposite knee as though they were still in the villa instead of on a jet hurdling toward a capital about to catch fire. "Do you think I waste sahan words like that on everyone?" he asked mildly.
Chris shifted in the seat. "Well, I wouldn't know."
"No," Dax said, tone even. "I don't. They're only for you."
