The heavy metal door opened with a loud bang. It echoed above the city, over the quiet streets below. You had never intended to make so much noise. You were meant to be discreet, but you couldn't be bothered anymore. You were too focused on him. Your ears drowned in the sound of his little giggles, taking them in like a song. You looked back at him to find a toothy smile on his face, his crescent eyes meeting yours. The sight made your heart melt and your knees weak, and you found yourself giggling along with him.

"Are you sure we can be up here?" you whispered, though you were only half serious. "Because I'm pretty sure this is trespassing."

"Don't worry, I do this all the time," he answered, grinning wide. He lead you to the edge of the rooftop.

You were almost certain that you were both breaking a few laws, but you trusted him. You trusted him, despite only meeting him a mere eleven hours ago. Strangely, he gave you a sense of comfort, a sense of security. There was something that attracted you to him, something that went beyond looks. It had pulled you to him when you spotted him across the room at your friend's party earlier, standing by himself on the sidelines of the crowd. You'd kept your eye on him for a few minutes before deciding to approach him. He had introduced himself as Mingi. You had spoken to each other—maybe flirted a little—and next thing you knew, you were leaving the place together. The decision was unlike you, but once you had ditched the place, you would not regret it.

Mingi had guided you on a spontaneous trip around the city to explore its evening beauty. It was wholesome and completely unexpected, though you weren't sure what you had expected when you had left with him. Hours of strolling up and down streets, of talking about anything and everything, of stealing shy glances at each other had went by in the blink of an eye, much faster than you would have liked. You both had wanted to do one more thing together before parting ways, which led you to this rooftop.

"Look, we made it just in time," Mingi said, pointing towards the sun that slowly began to rise behind the concrete buildings. It was only then that you realized the night sky beginning to change: midnight blue turned light, and soft yellows and oranges tinted the sky.

"It's beautiful," you mumble, not taking your eyes off the picture perfect view. You leaned against the rooftop railing, immersed in the show of colours.

Mingi hummed in response. He turned to you after a moment. You looked back at him. The morning rays made his skin glow. Shadows were cast on his face, defining his features. His gaze was soft and a little lost, his eyes a little glassy. They looked straight into yours. "Beautiful," he repeated.

Despite the cheesiness of his timing, you couldn't help but blush. A small smile curled the corners of your lips, and you looked down in an attempt to hide it. His hand lay near yours on the railing, and you had a strong urge to hold it. Mingi had respected your personal space the whole night, for which you were thankful, but suddenly you craved his touch.

"This may sound really stupid," you begin as you stepped closer to him; a bold move to make considering how nervous you were, "but I feel like I've known you my whole life." Your eyes averted his for a few more moments, deciding to focus on the necklace around his neck—an hourglass.

Mingi's other hand carefully moved up to your face, but stopped before his fingertips could graze your skin. His hand hovered; he was nervous too. On the railing, your hand inched closer to his. When your fingers touched and intertwined, Mingi let himself caress your cheek. His skin was soft but cold, almost icy. You leaned into his touch and looked up at him, meeting his gaze once more. He leaned down slowly, closing the space between you two. Your eyes fluttered close, awaiting the feeling of his lips on yours.

 

You think about that night often. Nine months have passed since then, and you have yet to see Mingi again. You never got his number so you couldn't call him. You asked your friends about him, looking for a way to get in contact with him after that night. But they didn't know of him. He disappeared, vanished. It's your very own Cinderella story, though instead of a glass slipper, all Mingi left behind were your memories of his smile and a lingering feeling of his touches on your skin.

Today in particular you're thinking about Mingi a lot. From the moment you woke up, you had him on your mind. The thought came with a strange feeling in your chest that you did not know how to interpret. The feeling poked at your heart the whole morning as you got ready to leave for school. Now as you stand at a crosswalk, waiting for the lights to change, the feeling travels up to your throat, forcing you to hold your breath.

You look across the street. Standing at the corner is Mingi. Your heart feels as if it's about to explode. You do a double take. You're not mistaken; it really is him. You spot a smile on his face as he looks your way—he notices you. When the traffic lights change, you cross the street, trying not to smile too wide, trying not to run towards him. He waits for you on the other side, and you find it harder to hold your excitement as you get closer.

"It's been a minute," you say when you stand directly before him. You fail to suppress your grin.

A small smile adorns his lips. "It has." The two of you stand still, silently staring into each other's eyes.

Although he seems taller than you remembered, Mingi hasn't changed much since you last saw him. His gaze is still gentle, and his voice still sends a slight tingle down the back of your neck. His features are simultaneously soft and hard, giving him an enigmatic attractiveness. The longer you stare at him, the more weak you feel in the knees.

Mingi is the first to break eye contact. He clears his throat as he looks around. You remember that you're both standing at the corner of an intersection. He rubs the back of his neck, his words coming out rushed. "I want to apologize for disappearing for so long. I don't know what I was thinking. I should have—"

You look at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish. He blinks before swallowing his words. He restarts, slower this time, "What I mean is... it would have been nice if we had crossed each other sooner. I really enjoyed myself last time we went out."

You smile and nod happily. "I'm glad life has allowed us to meet again." Mingi looks as if he wants to say something, but he just smiles. "If you aren't busy right now, would you like to go somewhere, maybe grab a coffee?" you suggest.

"Don't you have classes today?" he comments playfully.

You shrug. "It won't make much of a difference if I skip one day."

Mingi chuckles. "Alright, I'll take you up on that offer. But rather than getting coffee, I think I have something better in mind."

"Lead the way. I'm up for anything."

The two of you walk down the street. He lets you update him on your life. You tell him stories from the past nine months, ones that you planned to tell him when—if ever—you saw him again; ones that you've practically rehearsed in your head. He listens intently, gazing over to you with what, you believe, can only be adoration. It puts a permanent smile on your face, but you can't help but notice that he's acting a little different. It bothers you to your very core.

Mingi brings you into a building, taking you up a flight of stairs. You don't realize its familiarity until you reach the top. It makes you giggle.

"I still think this is trespassing," you joke, looking around the rooftop you still remember fondly. You come face to face with Mingi at the same spot you stood together months ago. His eyes look sad, you now notice. He stays close to you, his hand cupping your cheek. It's colder than you remember. You put your hand over his. "What's wrong, Mingi?"

He glances at your lips for a moment, but he takes a step back with a sigh. "It's difficult to explain."

"You can tell me. I wanna help you in any way I can."

Mingi doesn't look at you. You squeeze his arm to get his attention, but he doesn't budge. You fall silent. Only the faint sound of the traffic below echoes between you two. His mouth opens and closes a few times before he finally speaks. "Theoretically," he begins quietly, "if the sand flowing in an hourglass begins to run out, but someone turns the hourglass over before the last grains fall, what happens to the countdown?"

You take a second to answer, trying to understand his question. "Turning over the hourglass would simply allow the sand to flow back, so technically the timer would just continue," you answer slowly.

"And if that person were to continue to do this process," he adds, "but some of the sand spills out every time the hourglass is flipped over, what happens then?"

"Well, eventually there won't be any sand left. That's when the time runs out."

Mingi nods. He clears his throat to speak in a normal voice. "You know... my job is usually pretty simple. It's redundant and draining at times, but there's always something interesting happening."

When he says this, you realize that Mingi has never actually told you about his job. He lifts his head. His eyes are watery. "But I made a huge mistake. I messed up because I was selfish, and I just kept messing up and... and..."

You take hold of Mingi's hands. Your thumbs brush over his skin, trying to calm him. You wait for him to catch his breath. He calls your name softly. You hum in response.

"Do you remember when you were five, the day you were in that car accident?" he says suddenly, to your surprise. You don't remember telling Mingi about your accident.

"How... how do you know about that?"

"And when you were nine, you got really sick and you were stuck in the hospital for weeks," he continued softly. "And when you were thirteen you fell and hit your head—"

"Wait."

"—and at sixteen you fainted at school."

"How do you know about all that?" you repeat, your voice unstable. By now, you've taken a step back, letting go of Mingi's hands.

"I was there... I was there after your accident when you were five. I was there when you were nine, when you were thirteen, when you were sixteen, eighteen, twenty."

"I don't understand."

You're shaking.

"Nine months ago, on the night that you met me, your drink was heavily spiked. You overdosed. You... you weren't supposed to survive."

Something in Mingi's appearance changes before your eyes. There's a glow to him, like dark mist, and a thin black shadow extends behind him in the shape of an angular hook. The necklace around his neck becomes very apparent all of a sudden; an empty hourglass. You don't yet notice the tears on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes. There is so much pain in his voice; its sincerity breaks your heart. "I should've just done my job properly when you were younger. You could've been resting peacefully for years now. But instead I convinced myself that I was saving you. I kept coming back to you and I got attached to you... I loved you..."

Mingi approaches you. You're frozen in place. With his cold hands on your shoulders, he whispers, "I don't want to let you go, but I can't keep you alive anymore. I'm sorry."