"Rukh," she says, and taps my chest. Then she taps hers. "Har-loh." She gestures at the two of us. "Together." Her meaning is clear. We are a pair, meant to be one. "To-geddur," I agree, and am rewarded with a happy smile. Har-loh is mine, and I am Har-loh's. We are togeddur. In this moment, and in everything.
