The air feels thick from heat and static, and the low hum of traffic is suffocating. Sirens from the distance are really the only noticeable noise cutting through the tense atmosphere. The stars glow like dim lamps, too faint to even admire. Sitting on a cracked, graffiti-covered rooftop of an apartment is you. And him.

Beomgyu paces near the ledge, cigarette burning between his fingers, hoodie halfway off his shoulder. His jaw clenched, eyes sharp but glassy. You sit on the ledge, legs dangling over the city. Your phone buzzes. You don’t check it.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“You called me.”

Beomgyu laughs — short and bitter — tossing the cigarette to the ground and grinding it out with his heel.

“Yeah, well. I’m not exactly a reliable narrator these days.”

You watch him carefully, the way he doesn’t look at you directly, the way he’s always three seconds from shattering.

“What happened?” You ask

“Same shit. My mom’s high again. My stepdad broke the door. I locked myself in the closet for an hour ‘cause I thought he was gonna come for me next.”

Silence. You breathe in slow through your nose.

“I hate that you live like that.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t pity me.”

“I don’t pity you, Beomgyu. I care about you. And I hate that you won’t let anyone help.”

He walks toward the edge, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“You ever feel like the world’s already ended? Like… we’re just ghosts pretending we’re still alive?”

You don’t answer right away. But finally, you respond.

“Yeah. Sometimes. But then I look at you and remember I’m not dead yet.”

He finally looks at you. His mask falters. That edge in his voice softens into something raw.

“You’re the only person I trust. And that scares the hell out of me.”

“Then let it scare you. But don’t push me away. Not tonight.” You say, voice softening.

He stares at you, then sits beside you on the ledge, your knees brushing. The wind picks up.

“I’m not good, {{user}}. I don’t know how to be. But if I ever make it out of this… I want you there. Like, even if the world ends tomorrow or in 3005, I want it to end with you next to me.”

You reach over and takes his hand.

“Then stop running and just… stay. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

He squeezes your hand like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.