Dawn at Han River Park found them wrapped in a shared blanket, thermos of hot chocolate passing between them as the sky blushed pink. Iris's head lolled against Luke's shoulder, her breathing easier today than it had been in weeks. The medication pump in her backpack hummed softly, a constant reminder of the clock ticking down.
"Next stop," she announced, pointing to a folded napkin where she'd scrawled their itinerary in looping handwriting. "Noryangjin Fish Market for breakfast. Then the cable cars at Namsan."
Luke pressed a kiss to her temple, breathing in the scent of her shampoo - vanilla and something uniquely Iris that no illness could erase. "You realize most people put 'see the pyramids' or 'skydive' on their bucket lists, right?"
Iris grinned, the expression transforming her gaunt face into something approaching her old vibrancy. "We can bungee jump after the street food tour in Myeongdong."
Their day unfolded in a series of stolen moments - feeding each other still-wriggling octopus at the fish market, Iris's delighted shriek as the cable car lurched into motion, the quiet awe on her face when they reached the mountain's summit and Seoul spread out beneath them in all its chaotic glory.
Luke committed each second to memory: the way sunlight caught in her lashes when she laughed, the determined set of her jaw as she powered through another wave of pain without complaint, the warmth of her hand in his as they navigated the crowded streets.
At sunset, they found themselves at their favorite hole-in-the-wall barbecue joint, the owner nodding in recognition as he brought their usual order without being asked. Iris managed three bites before pushing her plate away, but her eyes sparkled as she stole kimchi from Luke's bowl.
"Remember our first date here?" she asked, swiping a dab of sauce from his chin with her thumb.
Luke caught her wrist, pressing a kiss to her pulse point. "You spent twenty minutes arguing about carburetor mechanics with the chef."
"And you fell in love with me right then." Her smirk was familiar, but the words sent his heart stuttering against his ribs.
"Yeah," he admitted softly, twining their fingers together on the sticky tabletop. "I really did."
The walk home was slow, Iris leaning heavily on his arm as fatigue set in. Halfway across the pedestrian bridge, she stopped abruptly, her grip tightening. "Luke. Look."
A meteor streaked across the night sky, then another - a surprise shower the weather report hadn't predicted. Iris tilted her face upward, the celestial light painting her features in ethereal silver. In that moment, she looked both heartbreakingly fragile and utterly timeless, a figure carved from stardust and stubbornness.
Luke pulled her close, memorizing the weight of her against his side, the rhythm of her breathing, the way she still fit perfectly under his arm. The meteors burned themselves out one by one, but he kept his eyes fixed on the woman beside him - his own personal supernova, brilliant and fleeting against the infinite dark.