SKYLINE
She leaves without a goodbye.
More of a ‘see you later’ than the ending page of their story, but it still feels good to end it on her own terms: spine straight, a hard glint to her eyes, and a firm refusal to the temptation of staying just a little while longer in his arms. Nothing like finality exists between her and Taeho, but this parting, at least, seems to promise something different. Something like an ending.
(Then she thinks: who is she kidding? It’s a pretty sentiment, but there’s no heart in it. She’d left that with him a long time ago.)
Nearing twenty hours and she doesn’t feel the need to sleep yet — the last dredges of a two six coursing through her blood, keeping her alert against natural rhythms and her manager’s orders to get a good night’s rest for once. Nevermind the fact that she’s far too awake right now; mind reeling, heart pounding. So many things to think about; mistakes that claw at the ends of her wits, taunting her to never abandon them else she wants their teeth in her neck. She’s never been someone to leave her guilt at the door, or between the sheets of a boy’s bed. It follows her, relentless in pursuit, as constant as the need to breathe.
Some say that guilt keeps you human — keeps you good — but she’s never seen the truth to that.
That the hotel’s rooftop terrace is closed is only a technicality, apparently; she finds the door to it unlocked and slips in quietly, heels barely making a sound on the pavement. In the dead of night, five-star amenities fall short of the brilliance of the sky and Santiago’s skyline — an almost comforting site, familiar in the way that all skylines are to her. Not like Seoul’s in the slightest, but beautiful all the same.
So absorbed she is that she barely sees the figure just feet away from her until his face catches the light. Recognition washes over: of all people, Jaehwan is not someone to waste away the hours waxing poetic over tall buildings and bright streetlights. Odd, but not entirely unwelcome; there are lesser people to share this view with than an old friend.
“You’re up late, Jae,” it’s said in lieu of a greeting, “can I sit?” And then does so anyway, without waiting for a response.
“Hope you had a better night than I did,” the grin she gives him is devoid of amusement, cheerful in the defeated sort of way. “At least now I get to spend it with good company.”
Though in hindsight, she supposes ‘good’ is a relative term.
Chile ‘19 — @idjaehwan