The rooftop

(1st Person POV – Yujin)

I’ve always been able to read Wonyoung.

Even when she tells the world she’s fine, I can hear the waver in her voice. Even when she smiles, I can see the way her fingers twitch slightly, as if holding herself together takes effort.

So when she didn't show up to class today, I knew.

Something was wrong.

The gut feeling gnawed at me, an unease so sharp it nearly made me sick. I tried calling her—no answer. Texting—left on read. Asking our friends—no one had seen her.

I ran.

I didn't know where. My feet just carried me, my chest tightening, lungs burning, until I saw it—

The rooftop.

And then, her.

Standing on the ledge, arms wrapped around herself as the wind howled.

No. No. No.

"Wonyoung!" I screamed.

She flinched but didn’t turn.

I ran towards her, heart slamming against my ribs. "Get down!"

She finally glanced back, eyes hollow, lips parted as if she didn’t expect to see me there. "Yujin…"

Her voice—barely above a whisper, so empty it sent shivers down my spine.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my voice to steady. "Come down. Please."

She turned away again. "Just go."

"Not happening." My hands trembled. "Wonyoung, this isn't you. Talk to me."

She laughed, but it sounded nothing like the laugh I loved. It was broken, hollow. "There's nothing to talk about."

The world blurred. My breathing grew rapid.

Then—

She stepped forward.

I lunged.

My fingers snatched her wrist.

Her weight nearly tore her from my grasp, but I gritted my teeth, every muscle in my body screaming as I held on.

She fought. God, she fought.

"Let me go!" She thrashed, trying to yank her hand away.

"Not a chance," I growled, sweat dripping down my temples.

I braced my foot against the concrete, pulling with everything I had.

Then—CRACK.

White-hot pain exploded through my shoulder. A sharp, sickening pop.

I nearly blacked out.

But I didn’t let go.

With one final heave, I yanked her back onto the rooftop. We collapsed onto the ground, my shoulder burning, throbbing, tearing itself apart—but I didn’t care.

She was safe.

I barely registered the slap until my head snapped to the side.

"You—" Wonyoung's voice cracked. "I hate you."

I blinked.

Her hands trembled at her sides. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. "I hate you, Yujin. Get out of my life."

I swallowed past the pain, my jaw tightening.

"Fine," I whispered.

She stiffened.

"I'll leave," I said, voice hoarse. "But you don't get to do this again. Ever."

I forced myself to my feet, biting down on a cry as agony tore through my shoulder. I took one last look at her—the girl I loved, the girl who wished I wasn’t here.

Then I left.

I didn’t see the way her face crumpled when I walked away.

Didn’t hear her whisper, "Why did you save me?"

I just walked.

Straight to the hospital.

Where they told me my shoulder would never be the same again.