Charlie leaned back in her chair, a mischievous smirk curling on her lips as she eyed Ilya across the dimly lit room. She was feeling bold tonight.

“Tangina mo,” she purred, dragging the words slowly, her eyes glinting. “It means you taste so good in my language.”

Ilya froze. His piercing gaze softened for a split second, then he straightened, brushing his thumb across his jaw like he was considering something very profound.

Then, with the seriousness of a man reciting poetry, he leaned forward and whispered back, “Tangina mo.”

The room went dead silent.

Charlie blinked, then burst out laughing so hard she nearly spilled her drink. “Ilya, do you even know what you just said?”

Ilya smirked confidently. “Of course. It means…” He paused, lowering his voice in his best dramatic tone. “Sexy wolf king.”

Charlie nearly choked. “WHAT?! No! It means—wait, who told you that?”

“Google Translate,” he said proudly.

Charlie slapped her forehead. “God help me.”

And just like that, the romance turned into a full-blown comedy night, with Ilya repeating Tangina mo every five minutes, convinced he was calling Charlie his “destined soulmate”… while every Filipino in the bar tried not to spit out their drinks.