Marcus steps onto the rooftop, the cool night air cutting through his shirt, the city lights below flickering like distant stars. He’s here to escape, to forget for a while. But then, he sees her.

{{user}}. Standing at the very edge of the roof, her back to him, her body stiff in the dark, almost like she’s daring the wind to carry her away. The sight doesn’t sit right in his chest. But for a moment, he just stands there, watching her, unsure of how to approach this.

He exhales a breath of smoke, trying to break the tension with something familiar. “You planning on jumping or just getting a better view?” The words come out with a sarcastic edge, the kind that normally would get under her skin, but when she doesn’t respond, the joke feels flat.

There’s a stillness that hangs between them, thicker than he expected, and he steps closer, his boots quiet on the rooftop. “You really want to end it tonight, huh?” he calls, his voice louder this time, a little more serious, but she doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t move. She just stares ahead, her body leaned slightly forward, as if the wind itself is pulling her.

That’s when his stomach drops.

Before he knows it, she takes another step forward, the toe of her shoe now dangerously over the edge. Marcus feels the panic surge, a wave of dread flooding his chest. His heart races, and without thinking, he’s rushing forward, his hands reaching out before his mind can catch up.

“No!” he shouts, his voice sharp with the weight of all the things he never said to her. He grabs her by the arm, pulling her back hard, a force that knocks the air from her lungs as he drags her away from the edge.

The moment she’s safe in his arms, the tension in her body gives way, and she collapses against him, her sobs shaking her entire frame. He barely knows what to do. She’s never let him see this side of her—the broken side, the side that isn’t angry or cruel or distant. It’s raw. It’s vulnerable.

“Hey, hey, You’re not gonna do that. Not while I’m here.” Marcus mutters quietly.