Its 12:34 in the morning, the sky is dark.

                She leaned against her veranda, nicotine stick between fingers. If you could even call it a veranda in the first place. A one foot space jutting out of a studio apartment could hardly be called ‘extra space’.

                She huffed smoke into the cool midnight air, white wisps seemingly disturbing the atmosphere. A wrinkle on an otherwise perfect blanket. The singularity in an infinite line.

                She likes it. Chaos, it seems.

                “Sooner or later those are going to kill you, you know.”

                Her head snaps at the sound, eyes squinting from behind her glasses. She could make out his boxers and white shirt clad figure, ever so slightly leaning his back against the railings of his own veranda, not unlike the one Amber has. She smirked at the beer bottle in his hands.

                “Says the one who can’t even go to sleep without alcohol.”

                “Chainsmoker.”

                “Alcoholic.”

                They share a smile amidst the insults, and she huffs and he sips, and the night closes in silence.

--

                Its 6:00 in the morning, there is a rapping in her door.

                “I left my keys in my room, I’m locked out.” Was what greets her when she opens the door, small brooding eyes, leather jacket, ripped jeans and all. She gapes in her what-the-actual--its-6-freaking-am state, hair still messy and glasses askew.

                “It’s the middle of summer and you’re wearing a leather jacket?”

                He scoffed. “Just let me in so I could sleep.”

                She let him in though, dragging her feet across her messy floor. Her neighbor followed suit as his socked feet kicked a few clothes out of the way.

                “This is getting more frequent, dude.” She said. “If I don’t know any better I’d think you’re purposely doing this just to get into my apartment.”

                He answers with a chuckle, climbing out of her balcony and jumping into his, a move perfected by practice. When he was safely back in his own space, he looked back at her with a smirk.

                “Don’t get your head all wrapped up, neighbor. I don’t even know your name.”

--

                Its 12 noon, rain is falling.

                She stood in the bus station outside her apartment complex, hands tucked inside the pockets of her jean jacket. The thin scarf that she pulled out from the depths of her closet did nothing to diminish the red spot appearing in her nose.

                “.” She muttered as she shivered, her hair dripping with cold rainwater.

                “It’s rainy season in Seoul and you didn’t bring an umbrella?”

                It was the man in 503, transparent umbrella in his hand as he squinted at her amidst the pouring rain. He has a yellow raincoat on and plastic boots with little polka dots, and the theme song of a cheesy Korean drama starts playing inside her head.

                Stupid brain, she thought.

                “I’m from Los Angeles. I’m pre-disposed to not be prepared for rain.”

                “That’s no excuse.”

                “Stupid Canadian.”

                He laughed at her, pink lips stretched wide.

                “Come on, let’s get you back inside.”

                The umbrella that he has turned out to be too small for two people, and they had to press together in order to not get her any wetter than she already was. She could feel his biceps against her back, and it’s pleasant in the warm kind of sense.

                “If I don’t hold you, we’re going to get drenched.”

                “Finding excuses to hold me? How quaint.”

                When he rests his hand on her shoulders though, she couldn’t find it in herself to protest.

                They arrived at their doors relatively unscathed, with pink cheeks that may or may not have been from the cold shower.

“Thanks, by the way.”

                “For the umbrella or the physical contact?”

                “Jerk.”

                She goes into her living room with a lopsided grin, heart racing and the unbelievably warm chest of her next-door neighbor tingling against her skin.

--

                Its 4:03 in the afternoon, the trees are colored orange.

                Krystal propped her legs on her couch, munching the last of her hot Cheetos. She reminded herself to steal some Lay’s when they hang out on Krystal’s place for a change. Trying her best to clean her balcony from the leaves that the wind has taken there, she shouts to her friend to help her.

                “That’s fruitless, just so you know.”

                “If you get your out of the couch, then maybe I won’t be having such a hard time.”

                “Just give up, bro.”
               

                She does do as Krystal says, and props the broom beside the sliding doors, sighing in exasperation. Her neighbor found that the perfect time to saunter out of his own room with nothing but his pajama bottoms.

                “Hey 504.” He calls.

                She tries not to stare at his nicely toned abdomen.

                “Dude you’re half- in the middle of autumn.”

                “I’m from Canada, remember? Anyway, here’s your soy sauce.”

                He tossed the bottle from across their balconies, and she tries to not make a fool of herself by catching it with slightly trembling fingers. Half- guys and her? Not really a good combination.

                “Did anyone say half-?” Krystal had finally decided that yep, guys could get her out of the couch, her head popping out from the door. She stared at Henry from head to toe, and shrugged in appreciation. Thankfully, he found it amusing and just chuckled.

                “Don’t mind her. Her boyfriend’s vacationing in Taiwan and she’s experiencing a drought.”

                He laughs some more, eyes squinting up in amusement. He throws his head back and her heart throws itself out of her chest and god Krystal hasn’t even stopped staring.

                “Oooh, is this the insomniac neighbor?”

                If she could dig her own grave she would right now.

                She waited for the awkward silence, or the chiding, but it didn’t come. Instead she opened her eyes to find her neighbor with a slight smile and eyes trained at her.

                “She talks about me?”

                “God yes. Like, a lot.”

                Earth, please. Just eat her. Eat her alive right now.

                “She tells us about this hot, insomniac neighbor who’s always awake at midnight. Seriously you’re the only one who matches her sleeping schedule.”

                His smile gets wider and her blush gets redder, and if she squints long enough she thinks she could see just the slightest blush in his cheeks too.

                “Well, I’m one lucky guy, aren’t I?”

--

                Its 11:34 p.m., it’s New Year’s Eve and she might be a little bit drunk.

                Her haphazardly worn coat clung to her shoulders and elbows, and she was very much aware of the smell of alcohol that reeked through her as she trudged through her apartment corridor. She tried to reach for keys inside her pocket, but the doubling vision and the impending urge to throw up are not helping.

                “.” She mutters when she lost control of her fingers and her keys fell out of her pocket and into the tiled floor.

                504’s door suddenly burst open, its inhabitant coming out with a garbage bag.

                “What are you doing?” he asked as he took in her crouched figure on the floor, fumbling for her keys.

                “I might have one too many tequila shots and dropped my keys and now I can’t find it.”

                After dropping his trash bag and getting her keys (that were literally right next to her) on his part, and a whole lot of fumbling and slurring from hers, he managed to get her into her apartment and safely tucked in her bed. She smiled up to his face that was illuminated by the outdoor lights coming from her window.

                “Happy New Year.” She whispered.

                He smiled. “Happy New Year.”

                It might have been the alcohol, or the fireworks, or the faint 5-4-3-2- countdown from the party upstairs.  But needless to say, she did it. She muttered ‘ it’ and pulled him by the shirt and kissed him.

                His lips were warm and soft and everything she has ever imagined. When they broke apart, she was catching her breath and the fireworks were casting colored lights upon his flawless face, and she couldn’t help but think about how beautiful it all was.

                “My name’s Henry, by the way.”

                “Amber.”

--

                Its 12:35 in the morning, the sky is dark.

                Room 504, situated in the middle of an apartment complex in the middle of Seoul. There is a living room, a couch, a kitchen, a bathroom. There is a bed big enough for two and a balcony that has a sweet view of the city, perfect for smoking in the middle of the night.

                Well, Amber hasn’t gone even close to a stick for years now so she wouldn’t really know.

                “There’s this law in physics.” Henry mutters, arms s to her middle as he held her close, close enough that she could feel the steady beating of his heart. There was a neighbor that lived in apartment 503 from right beside her, but now there is one unit, double the inhabitant and more warmth than Amber has ever felt.

                “It’s called the Law of Conservation of Energy. Everything in this universe is at a constant equilibrium, and energy is neither created nor destroyed. The world is basically a big recycle bin of energy, that the stars above the sky right now might have been the energy of a single flower a million years prior. A lot of things change, they come and go, and the universe is forever changing and expanding, but energy is constantly conserved.” He kisses the top of her head. “I think, that it also applies to our lives in general. The misfortune of one person is the luck of another, and the whole of us is standing on a balance of emotional give and take. Let’s say, you forgot to bring an umbrella and it started pouring, but on the other side of the universe, a man just won the lotto in response to your bad luck.”

                Amber chuckles and snuggles closer to him. “Why are you telling me this?”

                “Because I’d have to wonder.” He tucks his head in the space between her head and shoulders, inhaling her scent. “Who I’d have to thank for having you.”

                Its 12:37 in the morning, the sky is dark.

                She has never felt more in love.

---------------