Wheein's Pov

You remembered? I asked to myself.

Not bothering why I stayed silent, Yong moved closer to the painting and read the description right below it.

meeting an Angel

I fell hard and hurt myself on the process
But an angel came over saving me from the agonizing pain
I'm no masochist, but I'd fall and hurt myself all over again
If it means that I'll meet this angel 
That I'll get to see her, again, and again, and again

~ Flashback ~

Yongsun's PoV

"I have already arranged everything" Dad said over the phone.

"I still have to finish more than two years of my internship" I reminded him.

"I know" he simply said.

"Okay then" I said after a beat of silence, before hanging up and not bothering to say goodbye to my father.

I've been staying at the company's rooftop for a while now when I received my father's call. Most of my co-workers would immediately escape from this building the moment their shift ends. Me? I'd rather escape to this rooftop.

Compared to the other buildings in this block, this is the only rooftop that is covered with grass, plants, and flowers. The only thing that isn't green in this place, other than the vibrant flowers, are the grey pathways and a couple of benches.

I spend most of my time here. When I'm on break, you can find me on the rooftop. During lunch, I'm still at the rooftop. After my shift, still at the rooftop. There's something comforting and peaceful about being somewhere above while overlooking at things. There's something freeing about the illusion of being near to the clouds and sun while the wind brushed my dark brown hair. I'm free from everything and everyone else in this world, away from things I couldn't control. I love that.

The sun was already setting when I decided to go down from the rooftop. Crossing the street, I noticed familiar paintings through a glass window.

I haven't seen this place before. Has this been here ever since?

"Hello?" I said to no one as I slowly opened the door and made my way inside.

I stopped, concentrating so hard to listen if I'll ever get a response. The biggest painting hung across the door where I got in from. Beside it is another door. I could hear faint music coming from inside of it. On my right, there's a black leather couch sitting in between two ferns with a small coffee table in front of it. Across from it, there are three more paintings hanging on the wall.

The paintings are oddly familiar, especially the biggest one. I think I've seen them before.

Thinking that the owner might not hear me, I walked near the door where the music was coming from. With a slow knock, I asked again, "Uhm... Is it okay to come in? I just want to look at your paintings."

I still got no response.

I'm already here, might as well look around. 

I went to the biggest painting that has caught my attention outside.

You are oddly very familiar. 

I've been visiting galleries every now and then. If the rooftop would make me feel comfortable and at peace, paintings make me feel sensations. Whether it is the kind of emotion that paintings portray, what the artist convey, or even from my own interpretation, it's captivating when I find the right painting that awakens something inside me. The kind of painting that draws me to it and paralyses all muscle activities to pave way for an onslaught of emotions.

I've been staring at the painting for a few moments now, trying to place familiarity on it, when I heard someone shouting over the faint music from the other side of the door I just walked away from. 

"Ahh! Oh, no no! Please! Nooo!"

Someone must be in danger. 

I was already walking back to the door with my phone on hand in case the owner of the voice is in danger, ready to knock when I heard a loud thud, like something or someone fell, followed by a loud groan which is obviously from pain.

Logically, you shouldn't breach into someone's place, especially from a stranger. That's dangerous. What's more dangerous is when you ignore what's the logical thing to do and just breach into that stranger's place.

I'd rather try and see if that person is okay, logic be damned, than regret about this later when I didn't even try to extend help.

I should've knocked but that option was useless earlier so I immediately tried the doorknob instead. Luckily, it wasn't locked when I turned it and went inside.

Hope this won't go for nothing.

The first thing I noticed were canvases, various sizes of canvases. Some were blank while others were carefully leaning on the wall. Probably getting dried. There are lots of art supplies on the table near to where I am currently standing. The faint music earlier sounded like some Celtic fantasy music. I'm not quite sure about it. It's unfamiliar yet oddly soothing.

I scanned the room hurriedly looking for that stranger. In the middle of the room, someone with a light brown hair was lying down, still groaning, in front of an easel that was holding a huge canvas. A few distance away from her feet, a chair can be seen lying down.

Okay, so that must be the cause of the fall.

I rushed to her and crouched down beside her. 

With her eyes shut closed from pain, I asked, "Hey, are you okay?" I touched her shoulder to grab her attention.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Tears were pooling from the corners of her eyes. "Why am I talking to an angel? Am I in heaven? Did I not survive the fall? Please bring me back. Just please let me finish the exhibit. You can get me back after that. Please..." she pleaded, her voice croaking a shy away from crying.

Now she's rambling, but in a cute way.

Her eyes were entrancing the moment I saw it. Such innocence and sincerity I can only see in there despite speaking n