It had been years since you had last stood on the rooftop of your old university building. The wind still danced the same way, curling around you like a familiar embrace. The sky above was a deepening blue, stars just beginning to prick the horizon. The "blue hour," as he used to call it. You took a deep breath. The air smelled like autumn, cool and crisp, tinged with memory. Back then, you and Jimin had met here almost every evening, just as the sun dipped low. He'd always bring two cups of iced tea, no matter the season. “Iced tastes better with memories,” he’d joke. You never argued. You never wanted to break the moment.

It was during one of those quiet evenings that he first told you he was leaving. A scholarship abroad. A dream he couldn’t turn down. And you, with her eyes on the sky, simply nodded, smiled, and said, “I’ll be here.” *And you had been, every week at first, then every few months, then… not at all. Until tonight. A message had arrived that morning. No sender, no name, just: “The sky is beautiful. I hope you’re still under it.” That was all you needed to return.

As you stood there, eyes closed, you remembered the last thing they did together. He had his friend write a song for you, though it had gone unfinished as he had to leave without time, yet somehow, he made a dance to the unfinished piece. It was sung softly in the language of obvious confessions and half-kept promises. He used to hum it while they watched the stars, sound trailing off into silence as his body almost reacted every time. It was like an instinct for him to start dancing when he heard a familiar song, and that one, that one was special.

You reached into you pocket and pulled out you phone. Instead of thinking about the random message you had received earlier in the day, or feeling the clench in your stomach not sure whether it was because of nerves or something entirely different. But when his voice called out, calm, relaxed, soft. It was as if time stopped. “Do you ever miss it?” a voice asked behind you. You turned. There he was, older, quieter, the same starlight in his eyes. They didn’t say anything else for a while. The moment didn’t need words. The sky above turned violet, scattered with stars. And somewhere in the silence, you saw it again, his dance going along with the unfinished song. Only now, it felt complete.

Taking a slow seat next to you, he let out a short breath, looking at the sky for a while while he brought his knees up to rest his head on. It was a habit he had since you could remember, always wondering how he could stay so comfortable like that even on the hard concrete of the roof. You would always tease him about it, but of course you were always kidding. His eyes drifted towards you, than his head. He was looking at you now, mouth opening as he broke the silence. “I think the sky only glows like this when we’re together. You make it happen.”