There's a ghost living across Minhee's window. He's like a constellation, stars embedded in his bones. Beauty and faint pasts lie deep in his translucent skin. He is more handsome than the Disney Princes in the movies that she is allowed to watch, realistic, mysterious, breathing and exhaling as though he is human, but she doubts it, he's much too fragile to be considered human. His broken bones can be stitched back together like red threads that she uses to heal others.  The boy, Hanyoung, is the only human that she likes. The humans around her, whip her and tell her that she is nothing more than dust, worse than villains, she is nothing more than an useless character in a book. Parents, they are supposed to be called such things, but she doesn't believe they deserve such a title. 

Minhee believes Hanyoung is the embodiment of perfection and tainted beauty. That he is like Prometheus and steals fire from the Gods. Perhaps there is glitter upon his eyelids for her to even believe there is such beauty. 

And yet she stares out the window, white particles upon the ground, dancing, moving about, confusing her idea of weather and winter. If she wanted to play with him, she would have to face the consequences of disobeying the adults and leaving her punishment, her bedroom that has trapped her, never allowing her to wander into the outside world. But the snow is haunting and beautiful, innocent and kind, there is nothing more than the need to leave the tower and linger with the ghost of her present.

In amazement of the weather, she leaves the tower. She opens the window, figure hesitating, waiting for them to come in and screech their anger. She is not to be in the outside world with other human beings, they might ridicule her bearing figures because she is their daughter. But the twelve year old jumps into the snow, her bare feet finally meeting the sensation of pure innocence and dancing in the cold. Climbing trees and tiles, she would meet the boy in the looking glass. Her eyes peer into the window, waiting, hoping that he's there. So she sits outside his window, basking in the beauty of the snow and the winter, wondering if Snow White is truly as white as the first snow. The sound of the open looking glass makes her peer back at him once more.

He stares at her with those inky eyes. His soul seems to be plagued by a demon that she can't quite understand, her body inches towards him, a cold finger presses upon his cheek. He is plagued by demons. She is only amused by such wonders and her eyes smile once more, he reeks of sweet writing and roses.

"Do you want to build a snowman?" she asks with a soft smile. His eyes are heartless, cold, almost broken, apathetic. He is a ghost, she will come to the conclusion multiple times in the future. But she is still breathless when he is around, his face lacks emotion and she wonders if his eyes ever light up. She has never seen a human this close before. Hanyoung, Hanyoung would be the first one. She wonders if this is what all humans look like. A shadow, someone who lingers where everyone else lingers. No one and someone. 

The tint in his eyes appears, a gold that she would have to perserve. His eyes crinkle a little, a tiny bit, extremely small amount, and he smiles, an almost smile. "Okay, Minhee," he says.

His voice reminds her of chocolate. 

He is liquid salvation. A litany that she would like to recite over and over again during the nights where the stars do not leave their slumber. One could fill her glass with words and compliments, but she would never be able to accept the words, and yet he has the ability for this to happen, acceptance, reassurance, something. So ill-fated and broken that she can only ask why this happens.

The ghost looks over to her once more, and she only smiles, amazed by her surroundings. She ignores the temptations of warmth and ignores that someone will screech at her for being outside with a neighbor. 

She only wants to play with Hanyoung.

And it's only a few nights later when the village is in high spirits that she will be able to play with Hanyoung once more. He appears at her window at three in the morning when the sky is too dark to be morning but too early to be called night. Throwing stones at her window, he wakes the girl from her nightmares, steals her from the Harpies and keeps her safe. Pulling her backpack from underneath the bed, she puts her teddy bear in her backpack. The looking glass is opened once more. The wait is finally over. Minhee carefully opens the window, takes the twelve year old's hand and smiles once again.

He is no prince. But he has taken her away from the tower. Steals her from the Harpies in the castle and he takes her to his own kingdom. A kingdom where they will never find them again, the circus. 

It's an amazement to her. The bright lights in the tent, the amazing actors and performers, her eyes are focused on the fire breathers who have their own interest in a girl of her sorts. Hanyoung is creating his own conversation with the manager of it all, and so she cautiously joins the man with the sticks and oils. 

"You are a dragon?" she asks, tilting her head to the side. She can't comprehend men breathing fire, she is only used to Prince Phillip attacking dragons with his sword and the Dragon is Malecificent, a fairy not a human. There is a nod from his head. She finds it all attractive, amusing, and amazing. The desire to play pretend runs through her veins once more, one day she will breathe like dragons.

"I can tell fortunes," she can hear Hanyoung explain calmly to the manager, she doesn't listen to the rest of the conversation because the man is busily explaining the procedures to her. But she imagines Hanyoung telling fortunes through tea leaves. She imagines his lithe fingers pointing out tarot cards and in his enchanting voice, replaying again and again. He could be a mermaid if this is the case. But her eyes focus on the trapeze artists before joining them on the platform, eyes ready to fly like the ones before. They stare at her lunacy. Her ill-mannered thoughts catchces them off course. The bars are in her grasps and she swings back and forth, knowing that the females are quite confused by her sudden appearance. Giggling, she lifts her knees onto the bars, arms underneath her and flips into the sky, pretending to be a fairy like in the movies and falls onto safety net in smiles. 

"She can fly," she hears him say. She gets off the safety net, running towards Hanyoung before, attaching herself onto his arms. Because she doesn't know anyone else but Hanyoung, afraid of the world around them, Hanyoung is the only she can trust. Like those silly myths about damsels in distress. But the older man nods his head, gives her a smile and ushers them to the others. She looks up to the man with a cowardice she is used to. He doesn't assure her anything, but she feels at peace when he looks back at her. It's something that only Hanyoung can do for her, assure her with only a glance. A comfort that she only seeks in Hanyoung.

It's when she's sixteen do the trapeze artists decide to question her relationship with Hanyoung that she feels the cowardice once again. They sit backstage, applying make-up withe bright vanity mirrors as their aide that they ask. Minhee is quietly applying the trapeze make up that the others teach her on the ground with a sliver of a full body mirror. 

"Are you and that fortune teller going out?" she asks quickly, spinning her chair to face the now firey brunette Minhee. Going out? What is this concept? She doesn't understand the colloquialism that they speak of and she doesn't understand what poisons she must drink to understand the nonsense that they chittered about. The trapeze artist rolls her eyes, understanding that this girl is obviously left out of the human world, that these words make no utter sense to her. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?" 

Minhee stares at her blankly. A boyfriend, a friend that is a boy, no? Then why would one ask if they are friends? "We are friends," she answers, leaving the trapeze artist in laughter. There is the mirror once again, poised and promising, only beauty can be shown, applying mascara, she stares at the hideous girl in the mirror, there is no beauty in this mirror, she would never be the fairest of them all. An eyelash falling upon her face, she quickly pressed it to her thumb before wishing that Hanyoung and her would be 'boyfriend and girlfriend' forever. 

"Like Princess Ariel and Prince Eric," she finally states in a way that Minhee would understand its actual meaning.

The girl stares at her with wide eyes, so this is what 'going out' is. Shaking her head, she finishes her make up and laughs. Hanyoung is an embodiment of perfection that she cannot retie the strings of fate with. If anything, she is taught that she is too lowly for anyone. Her wings would be sacrifice for the one Hanyoung would love with all his heart, if it is possible. Minhee doesn't believe he would even look at anyone in that particular way, he is a ghost and ghosts have no desire to fall in love. They are meant to wander about the earth, leaving no evidence of their life upon others' threads. If he is ever to kill himself though, she would stab herself with a knife because living without him meant living without half of her soul. 

"Ten minutes before showtime."

The circus tent is too much for her, there are too many phrases and words that she doesn't understand, humans become scarier and scarier, there are too many humans and panic rushes to her fingertips as she continues to race in the dark, bare-footed to Hanyoung's stall that attracts others. There he sits, his tattoo showing, she stands in front of the table and her heart pauses, slows downs and the thoughts leave her lips in a matter of minutes. 

"Am I to die tonight?" Minhee asks, knowing exactly what he will say. It is not the words he utters that keeps her calm, but the sound of his voice before the performance. How alluring it is to her ears like those who play the harp, it appeases her nerves and the thoughts that creep upon her spinal cord waiting for her to crumble. 

"Yes," he says before looking up from his cards. A silence enters. The heart speeding slows. She nods her head, disappears again and sits on the platform believing those words. Words that involve her death and the sacrifice of her body for a performance. Or how the lights in the circus remind her of the lights in blanket forts and mugs of tea. She watches as the ones that gossip around her brightly smile, dancing upon bars, pretending that tomorrow's worries will never appear. Tomorrow, tomorrow, everything could break and crumble. The performance is nothing more than an act of rehearsed skills and empty smiles. But the word yes appears in her mind, again and again. 

Yes, she will die tonight, as her hands reach for the bar. Yes, tonight she will slip on the bars as the catcher says listo. Yes, tonight, Hanyoung will disappear with some other person. Yes, tonight, she will forget. 

(She completes her routine flawlessly while the others stumble upon their own tricks and spins.)

The endings are always the same. Their bodies are always in the same tent, she takes out her teddy bear, the only possession she would want to keep under her wings and the only material object she needs. They share mugs of tea of any kind, though most days it's green tea because she knows Hanyoung likes green tea, and they watch the same movies like days before. Sometimes, she wonders if Hanyoung is like the prince in the movie or if he'll read her a fairy tale before they go to bed because she can't sleep. Which he would, if she ever has trouble falling into a slumber. 

It's at seventeen when there's an accident with Hanyoung. It's nothing extreme or scary, but it's enough to cause him to rest for awhile. She presumes it's his violent disposition. The side of him that she rarely sees or knows of, mostly due to the fact if there are soul eaters who would like to take her soul, the color red blinds him and it causes Pandora's Box to open, chaos, cacophony, a mess of things that she doesn't know how to contain. 

They sit in the same room, her fingers delicately pull at the threads of his shirt, bruises of red and yellow, blue and purple are evident on his back, sides, everywhere. While to others this might be a shocking discovery, her hands are busying themselves, tending to wounds that could be healed in a short amount of time, never uttering a word or so, laces of misery and sorrow are captured under the ceiling, stealing any amount of happiness that bubbled in the bright room.

"I know," Minhee answers before anything can escape his lips. "It's all in the past now," she continues. Dabbing alcohol on cuts and trying to bite her lips so that the pain disappears, he is hurt. He is hurt, it echoes into a crescendo and her heart stutters as she continues to stitch the burns away. 

"Let's watch a movie in the theaters soon, I have money," Minhee says, he turns his body to face her and she only smiles. The edges of his lips curve, the glint of gold enter his eyes once again. Rare, everything about him seems rare to her tiny being. 

"Tangled."

She smiles wide, hugs him, and there is warmth in a room once sad. Because he knows her like the back of a hand, the keeper of her soul, he has half of her heart and she has the other half. He is truly a prince at times like these when his eyes light up more than half of the circus and he smiles that soft smile at her.

He is more than a ghost, he is more than constellations in the sky, he could be Flynn Ryder while she is merely the chameleon of the group. He is like the paper lanterns that light up the sky, they float and fly for him so someone else can find him in the darkness. But then he looks at her once more, no emotion and no words leaving his lips. There is no more words to be said and she doesn't quite mind, she doesn't need to mind. He is her friend forever, and there's nothing more to know. 

It's only when she approaches his booth once more to see someone else there. Someone beautiful, someone that is worth sacrificing her wings for. Fragile hands are approaching the unknown girl's hands and she crumbles, her heart breaks. Again and again, she would have to give up everything because Hanyoung finds Snow White, he finds her. Someone who is more worthy of her place than the other person. 

(Minhee slips and falls on the safety net for once in her life.) 

"Tiffany," he tells Minhee. And she swallows the name into her blood, she'll offer the wings to someone else, bloody her hands and screaming in pain because they break and they are flimsy. Hanyoung looks into her eyes, and she tries to pretend that it doesn't sting her body when he rubs circles into her back. Or how her anxiety reaches a peak as she waits for him to rip her wings out. "Is everything alright, Minhee?" he asks with that voice of his again. 

Minhee doesn't want to give the girl an apple that would cause her to sleep forever, she doesn't want to press her fingers into the back of the girl's nape and rip every inch of her body with her own nails. No, she is not that petty, not yet, not ever. A disturbance to his new friendship would break her body. 

"Yes," she lies. He pulls her closer to him, he changes the movie to "Beauty and the Beast" before calming the girl's nerves with his endless stories about history, people who have made an impact in Seoul's history, another rendition of Sleeping Beauty, and she clings onto him, her heart calming, slowing down in his embrace. Even if she has to break her wings, she still relies on him, his smile, his everything. And yet she can hear the tears on her heart in her sleep. 

She stays away from Hanyoung. She has to prepare herself for a heart wrenching goodbye. She slips away from him during practice, her mind becomes too preoccupied and broken to tell him that Snow White will take him away from her. How it aches to even drink tea again. Fake smiles and masks become her resources. He deserves a better friend, someone who is a princess. Not some fairy that has broken wings and a bitter heart. 

She stays away and finds herself playing around with the Beast. The boy who she watches from afar at performances, how his eyes lack in sympathy or empathy, how he speaks to others with that sweet alcohol, a broken heart. And she sits there, mending his heart, it becomes her daily task, the heart that no one has dared touched since someone else took it from him. There is an ice box where the heart is. She finds herself thinking about him more and more, how if he leaves, there would be a bigger hole in her heart and that - 

He kisses her. Her heart almost utterly breaks in a matter of minutes. A display of affection, she likes him, she likes him, but kissing is not in her functions, smiling, embracing, holding hands, that as far as she could understand. She only stares at him, she shatters and it's not as though she doesn't love him or she doesn't like him. It is care, it's cautious and kind, but kissing reminded her of the adults that captured her in the bedroom, how they kissed in front of her and know they were doing so well with a wreck like her. The bitter taste is left in when he kisses her, but she pretends because she is becoming wonderful at this masquerade. No one will ever understand the emotions that her heart is aching at, how much it hurts to be away from someone like Hanyoung or how she wants to die because the fly bars only remind her that she cannot fly anymore.

And she escapes once more. Just once more, into the room where her teddy bear is, where the old Disney movies are, how her heart is completely and utterly exhausted. How someone steals her soul for the night. The screech of the flowers surround her, demons take her mind and mold it into their own beings. She doesn't mind anymore. Becoming dull and numb is only evident. No one enters the room anymore, she sits there, reminiscing and holding breaths that aren't meant to be held. 

Hanyoung appears by her side once more, appearing like those in the movies, like every little prince she sees on the screen. But her eyes are still blinded by the demons that know her weakness to notice him, and that her heart burns like the dragon's breath, how if she breathes fire, it would cause intoxication of the sadness. She sobs into his shoulder because she knows this is the ending, the breaking point, her soul has been completely and utterly broken by too many souls, that someone else has her soul and put it in a jar of dust and empty clouds. 

He only holds her close, rambles on about The Little Mermaid, how her feet bleed and how she loses her voice to a sea witch. She looks up to see the stardust in his eyes, the gold glint in his lips and the quiet happiness he has for her. And he squeezes her hand. 

"You are my soulmate." 

Hanyoung has constellations embedded in his bones. There are words and phrases that she thinks fit him perfectly, but there are too many to repeat. He is hers. And wherever he goes, she follows quietly because though he is not a Beast or Prince, he is a ghost that has his strings tied to the end of hers, her heart is with his and she only has him. Hanyoung is ghost, but he is a ghost that reads her fairy tales, makes snowmen with, a boyfriend per to say and the sweet boy who steals the girl from the tower. 

Hanyoung is Minhee's soulmate.