❝𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐤❞

the guy walked into a lecture hall and half the girls in the room suddenly forgot how to breathe. he carried himself with this effortless, arrogant tilt of the head, completely aware of the eyes tracking his every move, his ego fed daily by whispered compliments and lingering stares. he was the university’s golden boy, untouchable, sharp, and brutally handsome

but to everyone's collective heartbreak, he belonged to you

​and god, you loved him so much it made your chest ache. you were the textbook definition of "girlier than most" you loved soft pastel cardigans, spent too long matching your ribbons to your tote bags. you were smart, a straight-A student doing a grueling dual-degree track, but you wore your emotions completely on your sleeve. a total crybaby, sunghoon used to tease, back when he used to press kisses into your hair to dry your tears

you’ve been together for two years. two whole years of being that couple. he had chased you first, pursuing you with a fierce, quiet intensity until you finally gave in. for twenty-four months, you were his world, and he was yours

​except, lately, the air between you had gone cold

​it started out small, a text left on read for six hours. the way he didn’t hold your hand in the car anymore because his fingers were glued to his screen, smiling at notifications he’d quickly lock away if you leaned in too close. you tried to tell yourself you were just being paranoid, that engineering was just getting stressful for him. but you weren't stupid, you could feel the space widening between you, a silent chasm growing larger with every passing day

​which brought you here. a chilly tuesday night, walking side by side through the campus park

the streetlamps threw long, warped shadows across the concrete. you shivered slightly, pulling your knit cardigan tighter around your shoulders, waiting for him to notice. usually, he’d grumble about you not wearing a proper coat and drape his oversized leather jacket over you. tonight, sunghoon just stared straight ahead, his hands shoved deep into his own pockets, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek

​"sunghoon," you said softly, your voice barely a breath in the cool night air. "are you okay? you've been really quiet tonight."

​he didn't stop walking, he didn't even look at you. "i'm fine, y/n. just thinking."

​you reached out, your fingers lightly brushing the sleeve of his jacket, desperate for any shred of the warmth you used to take for granted. "thinking about what?" you whispered

​finally, he stopped. they were right under the dim, buzzing glow of a streetlamp. when he turned to face you, there was no affection in his eyes. just a chilling, detached emptiness that made you want to turn around and run

​"we need to stop doing this," sunghoon said, his voice didn’t even shake. it was completely steady, cutting through the quiet night air like a blade

​you froze, your hand dropping from his sleeve. the cold air hit your bare skin instantly, but it was nothing compared to the ice suddenly flooding your veins. "stop doing what?" you asked

​sunghoon let out a short, sighing breath, tilting his head back to look at the dark sky before bringing his gaze right back to you. there wasn't a hint of hesitation in his eyes. "this, us. i’m tired of pretending, y/n."

​"pretending?" your voice cracked

"i like someone else," he said flatly. the world felt like it tilted on its axis

you stared at him, your chest heaving as the first tear spilled over, tracking down your cheek. "what... what do you mean? who?"

​"her name is sooha," he said, and for the first time all night, his expression shifted but it wasn't out of guilt. a tiny, almost imperceptible soften occurred around his eyes when he muttered her name, and it felt like a physical slap to your face. "we've been seeing each other for about two months now."

​two months, eight weeks and sixty days of him coming over to your apartment, kissing your forehead, letting you cook for him, all while he was coming from or going to someone else. the betrayal hit you like a physical blow, leaving you completely breathless. your knees felt weak, you couldn't stand straight

​you were sobbing now, big, quiet, trembling tears that shook your entire frame. you looked up at him through a wet blur, expecting to see a flicker of the boy who used to panic whenever you cried

​sunghoon just stood there, looking down at you and as he watched you fall apart, his posture actually straightened. seeing you completely wrecked over him didn't make him feel guilty, it fed his monstrous ego. he looked at your tears as proof of his power, a testament to how deeply he could affect someone

​"so that's it," he said, crossing his arms. "i'm not gonna lie to you anymore, it's over."

​"no," you gasped out, the word slipping past your trembling lips before you could stop it. you hated how desperate you sounded, but you were desperate. "no, sunghoon, please. just... give me one month."

​he frowned, his eyebrows snapping together in annoyance. "are you serious right now? y/n, i literally just told you i don't love you anymore. i’m with sooha."

​"i know!" you cried, burying your face in your hands for a second before looking back up, your eyes red and pleading. "i know. just... one month. don't break up with me until next month, please. after that, you can leave. you can do whatever you want, just give me thirty days."

​sunghoon scoffed, turning his face away in disgust. "this is pathetic. why would i do that? i want to be with her openly."

​"please, sunghoon," you begged, taking a step closer, your hands trembling by your sides

you didn't tell him why, you didn't tell him that in exactly thirty days, your flight out of the country was booked. you didn't remind him about the dual-degree program in Europe you'd gotten into. the one you'd excitedly babbled about two years ago when you first met, back when he actually listened to you. he obviously didn't remember it now

​he stared at you for a long, agonizing moment, weighing his options. "fine," he finally spat out, a harsh, arrogant smirk pulling at the corner of his lips

"one month. but let's get something straight, y/n. don't go demanding my time, don't text me asking where i am, and don't expect me to act like your perfect boyfriend. my affection is split now, and honestly? most of it is going to her. you don't get to protest, and you don't get to complain. take it or leave it."

​you swallowed the lump in your throat, wiped your wet cheeks with the sleeve of your pastel cardigan, and nodded. "okay," you whispered. "okay."

by the third day of the first week, any lingering hope you had left was completely dead

​the reality of the one month deal was so much uglier than you had anticipated. sunghoon didn't just split his affection, he completely turned it off. you were treated like an annoying ghost he couldn't wait to exorcise from his life

​it was a thursday afternoon when you saw a post on your feed about that new bakery cafe that just opened near the arts building, the one with the pastel blue storefront and the fluffy cloud pastries you’d been talking about wanting to try for months

normally, if you showed sunghoon a place like that, he’d roll his eyes, call it "too pink," but then immediately grab his car keys and pull his shoes on because he secretly loved indulging you​. so, swallowing your pride, you typed out a quick message

you: hey, do you want to check out that new cafe today? my classes finish at three

​hoon 🤍: can't. sooha wanted to go to that new pasta place downtown

​your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, a hot, familiar wave of frustration rushing up your throat. you wanted to throw your phone. you wanted to scream at him, to scream that you were still his girlfriend, that he promised you thirty days, that it wasn't fair

​but then you caught your reflection in the dark screen of your laptop. you saw your own tired eyes, and you remembered. thirty days. you only had to endure this for twenty-seven more days, and then you’d be on a flight across the world, leaving him behind forever. you couldn't ruin the plan

the next day: day four, started out weirdly different. you were sitting in your afternoon lecture, staring blankly at a slide about international trade laws, when your phone buzzed against your thigh. you figured it was yunjin asking what they should get for dinner, but when you unlocked it, your heart did a stupid, pathetic little flip

​hoon 🤍: i'll pick you up after your class. meet me by the outdoor basketball courts at 4:30

​it was the first time in a week he had texted you first. you hadn't even had to double-text him. a tiny, foolish part of you wondered if maybe he missed you, if maybe spending time with sooha made him realize what he was throwing away

​the only issue was the location. the outdoor basketball courts were on the complete opposite side of the campus, a massive trek from the humanities building. you’d have to walk down three long, winding corridors, and cut straight through the open park

​by the time the professor dismissed the class, it wasn't just raining it was pouring, a heavy, aggressive downpour that blurred the campus windows into gray sheets. you stood at the exit of the building, looking down at your canvas tote bag and your thin cardigan. you didn't have an umbrella. you’d forgotten it in the dorm

​but sunghoon was waiting, he was actually coming to get you

​so, taking a deep breath, you tucked your phone securely into the inner pocket of your cardigan and ran out into the rain

​the walk was brutal. within seconds, the freezing water soaked through your pastel clothes, making the fabric stick heavily to your skin. the wind was sharp, cutting right through you as you hurried down the empty walkways, the cold rain stinging your face and blurring your eyes. by the time you finally reached the outdoor basketball courts, you were completely drenched. your hair was matted to your neck, and your sneakers squelched miserably with every step

​the courts were completely empty, looking bleak and miserable under the heavy gray sky. there was a small metal bench under a half-broken plastic awning that barely did anything to block the wind

​you sat down, shivering violently, your teeth literally chattering as you pulled your knees to your chest to keep warm. you checked your phone. 4:35 PM

​you: i'm here!

you texted, your fingers shaking so badly you could barely hit the right letters​. you waited,ten minutes became thirty. thirty minutes became an hour. the sky started to turn a dark, bruised purple as the sun went down, the campus streetlamps flickering to life

the rain didn't slow down it just got colder, the damp chill seeping straight into your bones until you couldn't even feel your toes anymore

​by 6:00 PM, you had been sitting on that freezing metal bench for almost two full hours. your skin was pale, your lips felt blue, and a sharp, throbbing ache had started to form right behind your eyes. the tears that finally slipped down your face were warm against your freezing cheeks, but they were quickly washed away by the relentless rain

​you finally stood up, your legs shaking so badly you almost tripped over your own feet, and began the long, agonizing walk back to the dorms alone in the dark

the minute you walked through the door, giselle gasped, immediately dropping her laptop and rushing to the closet to pull out the thickest, most oversized blankets she could find. yunjin steered you straight into the bathroom, turning the shower on to a steaming, scalding hot temperature

​"get in there right now," yunjin ordered, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and fury. "don't come out until you can feel your skin again."

​it took an hour under the hot water just to stop shaking. when you finally crawled out, dressed in yunjin’s thickest sweatpants and wrapped in three blankets, your phone buzzed on the nightstand

​your throat felt raw, a harsh cough tearing through your chest as you reached out a trembling hand to pick it up

​hoon 🤍: shit, y/n, i forgot. sooha called me right after i texted you

hoon 🤍: she needed someone to drive her to that nail art place across town because it was raining

hoon 🤍: sorry, hope you didn't wait too long

​a harsh, bitter laugh escaped your lips, turning immediately into another painful cough. hope you didn't wait too long. two hours in the freezing rain, while he was sitting in a warm car, waiting for another girl to get her nails done

by the second day of the second week, your fever had finally broken, leaving you with nothing but a lingering cough and an incredibly heavy heart. you were sitting at the edge of your desk, mindlessly staring at the rain-streaked window, when your phone buzzed

​hoon 🤍: i’m outside, let’s go to campus together

​you stared at the screen for a full minute. your ego told you to ignore it, to walk to class in the damp air just to prove a point. but the truth was, you were just so tired. the anger from the basketball court had faded into a dull, numb acceptance. you missed him. you missed the routine of him. so, swallowing down the bitter taste of pride, you grabbed your tote bag and headed downstairs

​his sleek, expensive car was idling by the curb, the engine a low, wealthy hum against the morning quiet. you walked up to the passenger door, a tiny, fragile sense of normalcy settling into your chest. you reached for the handle, pulling it open with a soft, practiced smile

​"hey—"

​"don't sit there." the words were cold, cutting you off before you could even fully open the door. sunghoon didn't look at you. his hands were resting casually on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed forward

​you froze, the door halfway open, the cool morning breeze hitting your face. "what?" you whispered, your voice catching in your throat

​"go sit in the back," he said, his tone entirely casual, like he was asking you to pass the salt. "sooha’s joining us. she’s getting picked up down the street, and she likes the front seat."

​it felt like a physical punch to the stomach. the sheer humiliation of it settled deep under your skin, hot and prickly. you stood there on the pavement, the door handle still in your hand, your eyes stinging instantly

​with a trembling lip and a heavy, robotic movement, you gently clicked the passenger door shut. you walked to the rear, opened the back door, and slid onto the leather seat. sitting in the back of your own boyfriend's car felt like the ultimate demotion

​two minutes later, the car pulled up to the corner of the humanities building and there she was

​sooha looked perfect. her hair was done in soft, effortless waves, her lip gloss catching the gray morning light as she practically bounced toward the car. she pulled open the passenger door and slid in, completely filling the vehicle with the sweet, suffocating scent of a floral perfume that wasn't yours

​"hi, baby," she purred, leaning over the center console

​and right there, right in front of you in the rearview mirror, sunghoon did something he hadn't done for you in months. a soft, genuine smile broke across his face, the kind of smile that used to belong entirely to you. he leaned in, meeting her halfway, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss right against her lips. it was so natural, so domestic, that it looked like they had been doing it for years

​you choked on your own breath, quickly turning your face toward the side window, staring blindly at the passing campus buildings. your chest was heaving, a tight, suffocating sob building up in your throat, but you forced it down until your throat literally burned

​for the entire fifteen-minute drive, you didn't exist. they talked about their weekend plans, laughed at inside jokes you didn't understand, and sunghoon’s left hand rested firmly on her thigh the entire time. you just stared out at the gray concrete, a ghost trapped in the backseat of your own life

by the sixth day of that same week, the silence was driving you crazy. you needed to know if there was even a single piece of the old sunghoon left inside that arrogant shell. so, you decided to push

​you: can we do dinner tonight? just to talk

​you expected a rejection, or worse, to be completely ignored. but to your utter surprise, his bubble popped up almost instantly

​hoon 🤍: fine, i made a reservation at that Italian place near the square. 7:30 PM. don't be late

​a reservation, he actually made a reservation. for a split second, your naive, bleeding heart let out a breath of relief. maybe he wanted to apologize properly. maybe the guilt had finally caught up to him

​you spent two hours getting ready. you wore a soft, cream-colored dress he used to love, painstakingly styled your hair, and did your makeup with extra care to hide the dark circles under your eyes from all the sleepless nights. you wanted him to see you

​you arrived at the restaurant at 7:15 PM. the place was beautiful, dimly lit, warm, filled with the soft clink of wine glasses and the murmur of couples laughing. the hostess led you to a small, intimate booth in the corner

​"just waiting on one more," you told her with a small, hopeful smile.

​7:30 PM. you texted him

you: i'm here! table 14.

​8:00 PM. the waiter came by for the third time, offering a polite but pitying smile. "can I get you a starter while you wait, miss?"

"no, thank you," you murmured, your fingers tightly gripping your glass of water. "he should be here soon. he’s probably just caught in traffic."

​9:30 PM. the restaurant was starting to empty out. the warm, romantic atmosphere now felt like a mocking theater stage, and you were the main joke. your phone sat on the white tablecloth, dark and completely silent. you hadn't even gotten a read receipt

​by 11:15 PM, the staff was starting to flip the chairs onto the neighboring tables. the waiter came back, his expression entirely sympathetic. "i'm sorry, miss, but we're closing up the kitchen."

​you paid for the untouched bottle of water, stood up on trembling legs, and walked out into the cool night air. but this time, the sadness didn't come. for the first time in two weeks, the crushing weight in your chest didn't turn into soft, pitiful tears. it turned into hot, blinding, volatile rage

​you didn't go back to your dorm. instead, your feet marched blindly toward the boys' upperclassmen residence. toward sunghoon’s apartment

​you didn't even knock. you knew the keycode, he’d never bothered to change it. you punched the numbers in with an aggressive, shaking hand and yanked the heavy wooden door open

​the living room was quiet, lit only by a single desk lamp. sitting at the kitchen island was jake, sunghoon’s roommate. he was the textbook definition of a quiet genius, glasses perched on his nose, surrounded by thick textbooks, always a bit stiff and awkward around people, though he’d always been perfectly polite to you

​the second the door slammed against the wall, jake jumped, his pen slipping from his hand. his eyes went wide behind his lenses as he took in your appearance, the fancy dress, the smudged makeup, the absolute aura of fury radiating off you

​"y/n?" jake stammered, half-rising from his stool. "hey... what's going on? are you okay?"

​you didn't even answer him. you didn't have the breath for it. without a word, you stormed right past him, your heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor as you marched straight toward the closed door of sunghoon’s bedroom.

​"y/n, wait—" jake called out, his voice sharp with warning, but it was too late. you threw the bedroom door open

​the sight inside made the blood in your veins instantly boil. sunghoon was sitting on his bed, his laptop open on his lap, and curled up right next to him, her head resting lazily on his shoulder, was sooha. they were watching a movie, a bag of popcorn sitting between them, looking like the picture-perfect image of a cozy, happy couple

​both of them snapped their heads up. sooha gasped, instantly pulling away from him, her eyes wide with manufactured innocence

​sunghoon’s expression didn't even soften into guilt. instead, his eyebrows snapped together, his arrogant features hardening into pure, unadulterated annoyance. "what the hell do you think you're doing, y/n? do you know how to knock?"

​"four hours," you choked out, your voice shaking violently, the rage finally cracking to let the agony leak through. "i sat in that restaurant for four hours, sunghoon! you made the reservation! you told me to be there!"

​sunghoon let out a harsh, mocking scoff, closing his laptop with a loud snap. he stood up from the bed, towering over you, his ego flaring up at the confrontation. "and? something came up. sooha needed help with her study guide. are you seriously throwing a tantrum right now?"

​"something came up?!" you screamed, the tears finally bursting past your eyelids, hot and furious. "you left me there! you didn't even text me! i looked like a fucking idiot in front of the entire restaurant!"

​"then don't look like an idiot!" sunghoon shot back, his voice rising, completely unapologetic. he took a step closer, looking down at you with total disdain. "this is exactly what i told you, y/n. this is the risk you chose to take. you’re the one who begged for this stupid month. you’re the one who wouldn't just let me go! no one is forcing you to stay with me, if you can't handle how things are now, then leave! you look completely ridiculous right now."

​the cruelty of his words felt like a physical slap. he was standing there, defending his cheating, turning the blame entirely on you because you had loved him enough to ask for time

​you stared at him through your wet blur of vision. you looked at sooha, who was sitting quietly on the bed, watching the drama unfold with a tiny, satisfied smirk hidden behind her fingers

​"i hate you," you whispered, your voice cracking into a broken, jagged sound. "i actually hate you."

​you turned on your heel and bolted out of the room. jake was standing there, looking incredibly uncomfortable but deeply concerned. he stepped into your path, his hands slightly raised. "hey... y/n, wait. it's really late, let me drive you back to your dorm you shouldn't walk alone like this."

​"no!" you sobbed out, pushing past his shoulder, completely unable to accept kindness from anyone associated with sunghoon right now

ever since that massive fight between you and sunghoon, his phone has been a ghost town. you used to be the first person he texted when he woke up, the one he’d spam with random memes or complain to about his day. now? absolute silence not a single typing bubble, no read receipts

​because sunghoon completely checked out. he packed up all his attention, his time, and his energy, and handed it over to sooha

​today isn't any different. it’s a random afternoon, and his lock screen lights up with a message from her

sooha: hey, can we go out today? i really want to clear my mind

and just like that, sunghoon is already grabbing his keys. there’s no hesitation, no second thoughts about how he left things completely broken with you. he’s entirely focused on being sooha's knight in shining armor

​the air in his car smells faintly of his expensive cologne mixed with the stale warmth of the afternoon sun. he turns the ignition, the engine humming to life as he hooks his phone to the dashboard and sets the GPS for sooha’s apartment

​at first, everything is fine. it’s just a typical, mundane drive. the radio is playing some low, ambient indie track that he isn't really listening to

then, the traffic slows to a painful, agonizing crawl​. sunghoon sighs, drumming his fingers against the leather wheel. he glances at the clock on the dashboard. rolling down the window a crack, he lets the humid city air fill the car, hoping it’ll snap him out of his annoyed mood

​finally, the lane moves. the car in front of him advances, and sunghoon presses his foot onto the gas pedal, moving forward into the intersection

​he doesn't even have time to blink

​from the peripheral vision of his right eye, a blinding flash of silver streaks through the intersection. a car is speeding way too fast, completely ignoring the red light, barreling straight toward him from the side street

​the sound of tires screeching violently against asphalt echoes for a split second, tearing through the quiet afternoon. sunghoon’s instincts kick in too late. his hands jerk the steering wheel to the left, his heart dropping into his stomach, a cold wave of pure terror freezing the blood in his veins

​CRASH

​the impact is deafening. it’s a sickening, metallic crunch that shatters the windows instantly, raining thousands of tiny glass diamonds into the air. the sheer force of the collision sends sunghoon's car flying, spinning like a useless toy through the air before it slams violently onto the hard pavement, flipping onto its side

​inside the wreckage, everything happens in horrifying slow motion. sunghoon’s body is thrown violently against the door, his head cracking hard against the frame. the airbag deploys with a loud pop, but it does little to stop the devastating momentum

​and then, silence

​sunghoon is slumped over the shattered steering wheel, completely covered in dark, warm blood that drips down his forehead, matting his dark hair and pooling on the cracked dashboard. his breathing is shallow, ragged, and weak. within seconds, the overwhelming pain numbs into nothingness as his vision fades to pitch black. he loses consciousness entirely

​outside, the world erupts into absolute chaos

​"oh my god! someone call 911!"

"is he alive?! look at the car!"

"hey, can you hear me?! stay with us!"

​bystanders run over in a panic, shouting, waving their arms, hands trembling as they dial emergency numbers. the scene is a total nightmare smoke rising from the crushed hood, the smell of burnt rubber and gasoline filling the air

​then, a weird sensation washes over him​. sunghoon opens his eyes. the blinding headache is gone, the agonizing pressure in his chest vanished. he blinks, looking around, feeling strangely light. he looks down at his hands, they’re completely clean, no blood, no scratches

​"ugh... what the hell happened?" he mutters, groaning in sheer annoyance as he pushes himself up from the ground. he ruffles his hair, thoroughly pissed off that his drive got interrupted by some idiot driver

​he looks around to see a crowd of people huddled around a overturned, wrecked car

​"hey!" sunghoon calls out, stepping toward a guy who is frantically talking on his phone. "hey, man, did someone hit me? what’s going on?"

​the man doesn't even blink. he keeps talking into his phone, his voice shaking. "yes, an ambulance, quickly! there's a guy trapped inside, he's bleeding out really bad!"

​sunghoon frowns, confusion clouding his features. "dude? i'm right here, walkie-talkie guy, look at me!" he steps right into the man's line of sight, waving a hand directly in front of his eyes

​nothing. the man walks straight through sunghoon's shoulder to get a better look at the wreck​

sunghoon freezes. a cold shiver runs down his spine. he turns around slowly, his chest heaving with a panic he can’t quite explain. he approaches a woman who is crying, stepping right up to her face, mere inches away. "excuse me? can you hear me? look at me, please!"

​she looks right through him, her eyes fixed on the car. sunghoon slowly follows her gaze. he looks through the shattered windshield of the flipped vehicle

​and his heart stops

​there, trapped in the driver's seat, covered in blood and looking completely lifeless, is him, his own body

​"no... no, no, no, this is a joke," sunghoon whispers, stumbling backward. his hands grip his own hair, his breathing turns erratic. his soul, his actual spirit had completely detached from his physical body. he's dead or dying. he’s a ghost. "this can't be happening, this is insane!"

"wow, now that was an absolute cinema-level crash. pure epicness." a sharp, drippingly sarcastic voice cuts through sunghoon's spiraling panic

​sunghoon snaps his head around. a guy is leaning against a nearby lamppost, completely unfazed by the horrific scene. he looks around sunghoon’s age, rocking a look that screams effortless arrogance. his skin has a flawless, warm honey glow, and his jawline is so sharp it could genuinely cut glass. he’s wearing an outfit that feels a bit too sharp for a casual tuesday, and his lips are curled into a highly amused, thoroughly punchable smirk

​sunghoon stares at him, dumbfounded. "you... you're talking to me?"

​"obviously. unless you see another floating soul having a mid-life crisis right now," the guy scoffs, rolling his eyes

​"who the hell are you?" sunghoon demands, his temper flaring despite the terrifying situation. "and why can you see me when nobody else can?"

​the guy stands up straight, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off his jacket. he walks over to sunghoon with a slow, swaggering gait that matches sunghoon’s own usual arrogance. "i'm jongseong but you can call me jay and as for why i can see you..." jay flashes a sharp, knowing grin, his eyes gleaming with something ancient and dark. "i'm a grim reaper."

​sunghoon lets out a loud, mocking laugh, though it sounds a bit hollow. "a grim reaper? are you out of your mind? you're freaking delusional, dude. stop watching so many dramas."

​"oh, a skeptic. love to see it," jay chuckles, completely unbothered

​"i'm not dead," sunghoon snaps, turning his back on jay. "i just need to... i just need to get back in there. it’s a glitch, i'm going back."

sunghoon charges toward the wrecked car, determined to shove his spirit back into his bloody body. he lunges forward, trying to force himself through the shattered window, trying to merge back with his flesh and bones

​but he just passes right through it like smoke, stumbling out the other side of the car, landing awkwardly on the pavement. he tries again, more aggressively this time, grabbing at his own bloody shoulder, but his ghostly hands slide through his own skin like water

​from behind him, a loud, echoing burst of laughter breaks the air. jay is literally clutching his stomach, laughing so hard his eyes crinkle. "oh my god, please keep doing that. that is hilarious, you look like a bird flying straight into a glass window over and over again."

​"shut up!" sunghoon yells, spinning around, his face flushed with embarrassment and rage. "how do i get back in?! tell me!"

​jay wipes a tear of laughter from his eye, his expression suddenly shifting into something more professional, though the smug aura never truly leaves him. "look, buddy, here’s the deal. if that ambulance over there doesn't show up in time? i'm officially cutting your soul's silver cord and taking you upstairs or downstairs wherever you're headed."

​sunghoon’s face goes pale. "you're going to kill me?"

​"hey, don't blame the messenger," jay says, raising his hands in defense. "but lucky for you, your official death notice hasn't popped up on my phone yet. meaning, you're technically not scheduled to die today"

​sunghoon lets out a breath he doesn't even need to take, feeling a tiny sliver of hope. "okay, fine. then let me back in i need to go back to my life. i have things to do, i have to see sooha. i have to..." his voice trails off, his mind suddenly flashing to a memory of you, standing in the rain, crying during your fight

​"i want to go back," sunghoon insists, stepping closer to jay, his eyes dead serious. "make it happen."

​jay stops smirking. his eyes narrow into a sharp, piercing stare that makes sunghoon feel completely naked under his gaze. jay steps closer, tilted his head slightly, his tone dropping into something incredibly chilling

​"make it happen? wow, you really are an arrogant piece of work, aren't you?" jay whispers, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, but it’s entirely devoid of warmth. "you want to go back so badly... but you're conveniently forgetting something pretty major, park sunghoon."

​sunghoon blinks, a sudden wave of confusion washing over him. "forgetting what?"

​jay takes one more step forward, his shadow casting over sunghoon's spiritual form. "did you seriously forget? you forgot about the promise you made, didn't you?"

​sunghoon stands completely frozen, his mind racing as he stares into jay’s intense, unreadable eyes. a promise? what promise? he tries to rack his brain, searching through every memory, every corner of his mind, but nothing comes up. yet, looking at jay’s deadly serious face, a creeping sense of dread whispers that whatever he forgot. it was going to cost him everything

meanwhile, on the exact opposite side of the city,

​BANG

​the violent sound of your bedroom door slamming against the wall forcefully yanks you out of your deep slumber. your heart instantly leaps into your throat, your eyes flying open as you gasp for air, completely disoriented.

​"Y/N! WAKE UP! y/n, please, get up right now!" yunjin bursts into the room like a hurricane, her face completely pale, eyes wide with sheer, unadulterated panic

right behind her is giselle, who isn't even looking at you, she’s frantically scanning your room, grabbing your black denim jacket from the chair and throwing your wallet and phone into a canvas tote bag

​"w-what... what's happening?" you stammer, your voice thick and raspy from sleep. you try to sit up, but your brain is still foggy, sluggishly trying to process why your roommates look like the world is ending. "yunjin, you're scaring me, what—"

​"y/n, look at me. focus on me," yunjin interrupts, her voice trembling violently. she lunges onto the bed, her hands coming up to pat your cheeks with frantic, stinging slaps to force the sleep out of your system. "wake up, seriously, we need to go now."

​"yunjin, stop! why are you slapping me?!" you yell, pulling your head back, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird

​"it's sunghoon," yunjin says, the words tearing out of her throat in a broken sob. "he was in a car accident, y/n. a really, really bad one. he’s at the city hospital right now, we have to go."

​it feels like all the oxygen is suddenly sucked out of the room. the name sunghoon echoes in your mind, followed by accident, but your brain flat-out refuses to connect the two words. sunghoon? your sunghoon?

​"no," you whisper, your voice suddenly sounding miles away. "no, he’s... he’s fine. he’s with sooha. he—"

​"y/n, please, just put the jacket on!" giselle begs from the doorway, her voice cracking as she shoves the denim sleeves into your trembling hands

​the panic hits you all at once, a brutal, freezing wave that completely shatters your numbness

​the hospital smell hits you first, your sneakers squeak loudly against the polished white floors as you, yunjin, and giselle sprint toward the emergency waiting room. your eyes wild, scanning the rows of plastic chairs until you spot two familiar figures standing near the glass doors of the ICU

​it’s jake and heeseung. sunghoon's best friends look completely unrecognizable. jake is pacing a small strip of the floor, his skin a sickly, translucent white. his hands are shoved deep into his pockets, but you can see his entire frame shaking. he’s chewing on his bottom lip so hard it’s practically bleeding, his eyes staring blankly at the floor as he fights a losing battle against his own tears

next to him, heeseung is leaning heavily against the wall, his head tilted back, eyes tightly shut. his jaw is clenched so hard the muscles are jumping, his arms crossed over his chest like he’s trying to hold himself together

​the moment jake hears your frantic footsteps, he looks up. the absolute, raw devastation in his eyes tells you everything you never wanted to know.

​"y/n," jake chokes out, his voice dropping an octave, completely broken

​the tears you’ve been holding back for three weeks. the tears you swore you wouldn't cry today come crashing down like a collapsed dam. a loud, pathetic sob tears out of your throat, and your knees instantly give out. if it weren't for giselle catching you by your armpits, you would have collapsed right there on the dirty hospital floor

​"hey, hey, i’ve got you. breathe, y/n, please just breathe," giselle whispers frantically, wrapping her arms tightly around your shaking shoulders, pulling you into a plastic chair

but you can’t breathe. your chest is heaving, your vision completely blurred by a endless stream of hot, burning tears. you bury your face in your hands, your whole body convulsing with agonizing grief

​and then, through the blur of your tears, you see her. sooha is sitting just a few chairs down

​she’s completely neat, not a single hair out of place. her face is pale, and yeah, she looks kind of sad, maybe a little stressed by the sterile atmosphere but there isn't a single tear on her face. her eyes are completely dry. she’s just sitting there, hands neatly folded in her lap, watching the chaos

​yunjin marches straight up to sooha, her eyes blazing with pure fury. "what the hell are you even doing here?" she spits, her voice a lethal, venomous whisper that cuts through the waiting room. "he was on his way to you, this is your fault! get the hell out of here, you don't belong here."

​sooha shrinks back slightly, her bottom lip quivering in a perfectly practiced display of innocence. "i... i just wanted to make sure he was—"

​"i said leave!" yunjin barks, stepping closer, her hands curling into fists

​"yunjin, stop! don't do this here," giselle hissed, quickly letting go of you for a second to grab yunjin’s arm, physically pulling her back before a full-blown fistfight could break out in front of the nurses' station. "not right now."

​what none of them know is that they aren't alone

standing literally three inches away from jake, staring frantically into his pale face, is the spirit of park sunghoon

​"jake! jake, look at me, bro, i'm right here!" sunghoon yells, waving his hands wildly in front of his best friend’s face. "stop pacing, you're making me nervous! i'm fine! look at me!"

​jake just walks straight through sunghoon's chest to grab a paper cup of water from heeseung. sunghoon shudders as the cold sensation of jake’s physical body passes through his soul, leaving him feeling emptier than before

he spins around, looking at heeseung. "heeseung! please, tell me you can hear me. i'm not dead, okay? the doctors are tripping."

​heeseung just sighs, rubbing his tired eyes, completely ignoring the ghost screaming in his face

​"whew, rough crowd," jay's smooth, mocking voice floats from the corner of the room. the grim reaper is currently sitting casually on top of a vending machine, swinging his legs back and forth, holding a glowing digital ledger that looks like a sleek black smartphone. "told you, buddy. you're a radio station with no frequency right now they can't hear your broadcast."

​"shut up, jay!" sunghoon snaps, his frustration peaking

​just then, yunjin starts screaming at sooha. sunghoon’s eyes widen as he sees yunjin invading sooha’s personal space. a protective surge of anger flares in his chest. he charges over, throwing himself between them, trying to shove yunjin away

​"hey! back off her, you psycho!" sunghoon roars at yunjin, his face contorted with rage. "don't you dare touch her! she didn't do anything wrong! yunjin, i swear to god, if you don't get your hands off her—" his ghostly hands pass harmlessly through yunjin’s shoulders, leaving him panting with useless fury

​he turns to sooha, his voice softening into frantic desperation. "sooha, look at me. i'm right here. don't listen to her, okay? i'm fine." but sooha’s blank, tearless eyes are fixed entirely on the floor, not even glancing in his direction

​and then, sunghoon's gaze shifts. he looks over at the plastic chairs. he hears your broken, jagged breaths, sees the way your fingers are clutching your jacket like it’s a lifeline

​sunghoon lets out a heavy, irritated scoff, rolling his eyes so hard it looks painful.

​"oh, for god's sake, y/n," sunghoon grumbles, his voice dripping with an incredibly harsh, dismissive edge. "stop overreacting. seriously, you're making a whole scene for absolutely no reason. we aren't even speaking, why are you crying like someone died? it’s so dramatic, just go home."

​up on the vending machine, jay’s amused expression instantly vanishes. his eyebrows furrow as he looks down at sunghoon, slowly shaking his head in utter disbelief

​"wow," jay mutters under his breath, his sharp jaw tightening. "you really are a piece of work, aren't you? a complete and utter idiot."

hours bleed into one another. the sky outside the hospital windows turns from a hazy twilight to a deep, pitch-black night

​the red surgery light finally clicks off, and a tired doctor steps out, informing the group that sunghoon is stable. the impact was severe, but he managed to survive the worst of it. they’ve moved his physical body into a regular, private recovery room to monitor his comatose state

​the relief in the hallway is palpable, but the exhaustion is heavier. one by one, the group starts to thin out. sooha leaves first, offering a quiet, polite excuse about her ride being outside, which yunjin handles with a lethal glare

heeseung and jake stay for another hour, staring at sunghoon’s pale, machine-hooked body through the window before heeseung gently pats jake's shoulder, whispering that they need to get some rest and come back in the morning

​finally, it’s just you, yunjin, and giselle standing outside the quiet room.

​"y/n, come on. let’s go home," yunjin says softly, her voice completely spent from the day's anger. she places a gentle hand on your arm. "the doctor said he’s stable. he’s not going to wake up tonight. you need to sleep, you’re pale as a ghost."

​"yeah, let us take you back," giselle chimes in, her eyes pleading. "you've been crying for six hours straight, y/n. your body can't take this."

​you look through the glass pane of the door. sunghoon looks so small in that massive hospital bed, surrounded by beeping monitors and clear plastic tubes. the sight of him like that makes a fresh wave of quiet ache bloom in your chest

​you slowly pull your arm away from yunjin's grip, shaking your head. "no," you whisper, your voice barely audible, but completely unyielding. "i'm not leaving."

​"y/n, please don't be stubborn—" yunjin starts, but you cut her off, looking up with raw, sleep-deprived, swollen eyes

​"i'm staying, yunjin. please," you beg, your lower lip trembling. "just... let me stay with him, i can't leave him alone."

​yunjin and giselle exchange a long, heartbroken look. they know that tone. there is absolutely no changing your mind. with a heavy sigh, giselle hands you the tote bag with your wallet and phone

​"we'll come back first thing in the morning, okay? call us if anything changes. literally anything," giselle whispers, giving your shoulder a tight squeeze. yunjin gives you a sad, lingering look before the two of them turn around, their footsteps echoing down the long, empty corridor until the double doors click shut

days melt into each other until they completely lose all meaning

​you’ve basically moved into this sterile, cramped hospital room, transforming the hard plastic chair next to sunghoon’s bed into your temporary home. the heavy scent of antiseptic and bleach doesn't even make you gag anymore

​most of the time, you just sit there. you stare at his pale, unmoving face, tracing the sharp line of his jaw and the soft curve of his eyelids with your eyes, wishing with everything inside you that they would just flutter open. and then, without even realizing it, the hot tears start spilling over again, blurring your vision until you have to look away, wiping your face with the damp sleeve of your oversized hoodie

​when the guilt and the ache get too heavy to carry, you try to distract yourself. you pull out your laptop, spreading your college textbooks across the tiny rolling tray table, attempting to type out essays for classes you haven't attended in days. but your brain is completely fried. you’ll read the same sentence five times, blink, and realize you haven't absorbed a single word. eventually, exhaustion wins. your head drops onto the hard edge of his mattress, your fingers loosely curling near his cold, unmoving hand, and you drift into a light, uncomfortable sleep, woken up every hour by the rhythmic, taunting beep of the heart monitor

​and the entire time, sunghoon’s spirit is right there. he stands on the other side of the bed, crossing his arms, watching you throw your life away for him. it completely bewilders him

he watches you type, watches you cry, watches you slump over in deep exhaustion. why is she still here? he thinks, his chest tightening with a weird, suffocating mixture of irritation and something he refuses to acknowledge as guilt

we literally ended things on the worst possible terms. she should hate me, she should be at home, sleeping in her own bed, totally glad that i’m out of her hair. why doesn’t she just get bored and leave?

​by the time the fourth day rolls around, something shifts in you. the crying spells have finally run dry, leaving you with a strange, hollow sort of energy

​you pull your chair closer to his bed, resting your chin on the palm of your hand. you look at his quiet face, and for the first time in days, a tiny, sad smile touches your lips

​"you're missing so much, you know," you whisper, your voice a little raspy from the dry hospital air

​and then, you just start yapping. you talk because the silence in the room is too loud, and if you don't fill it with the sound of your own voice, you feel like you'll lose your mind

​"class was honestly so miserable today, sunghoon. professor lee was going on and on about the midterm, and honestly, i think even he was bored of his own lecture. yunjin literally fell asleep right next to me and started snoring. it was so embarrassing, i had to keep coughing to cover it up."

​you let out a soft, breathy chuckle, your eyes crinkling at the memory. sunghoon’s ghost stands right beside you, his head tilted as he stares down at you, completely transfixed by the sound of your voice.

​"oh, and after class, i went to that little cafe down the street," you continue, your fingers absentmindedly smoothing out a crease in his hospital blanket. "the one with the really good iced americanos? yeah, i went there by myself. it felt super weird ordering just one cup. the barista asked where my 'tall, grumpy shadow' was, and i didn't even know what to say. i just told her you were taking a very long nap."

​sunghoon's breath hitches. a tall, grumpy shadow. that's what the cafe staff used to call him because he'd always stand right behind you, looking thoroughly annoyed with the world until you handed him his drink

​"afterward, me and giselle found this super sketchy tarot reading app," you say, a genuine smile breaking through your exhausted face. "we played around with it for hours, doing all these ridiculous future predictions. it told giselle she was going to marry a billionaire, which, honestly? totally tracks for her. it was so fun, sunghoon. we laughed so much."

​your voice suddenly drops, the playful energy evaporating into thin air as you look at his closed eyes. your fingers twitch, desperately wanting to hold his hand, but you keep them to yourself

​"but... the entire time, i just kept thinking about you," you whisper, your throat tightening up again. "the app said my future was full of 'waiting.' and it's right, i'm just waiting for you. please, sunghoon. just wake up already."

​your eyelids grow incredibly heavy, the weight of the four-day burnout finally catching up to you. within minutes, your voice peters out, your head dropping onto your arms beside his hip, your breathing evening out into a deep, heavy slumber

​sunghoon stares down at your sleeping form. his physical ears couldn't hear a single syllable, but his soul heard every single word, every little shift in your tone, every quiet breath. his chest aches. it’s a phantom pain, but it hurts so bad he has to take a step back

​unable to handle the suffocating atmosphere of the room anymore, and still entirely too stubborn to let himself soften up, sunghoon turns around and walks straight through the hospital wall

​he wanders out into the empty, moonlit courtyard of the hospital, the cold night air doing nothing to his ghostly body. he storms over to a stone bench and stands there, thoroughly frustrated

​"jay!" sunghoon shouts into the dark, empty air. "hey! grim reaper guy! get out here right now!"

​with a soft, shimmering ripple in the air, jay materializes, sitting cross-legged on the top of the courtyard brick wall. he’s holding an apple, tossing it casually in the air and catching it. "jeez, turn down the volume, will you? i was in the middle of a really good nap. what’s burning your soul today, kid?"

​"the promise," sunghoon demands, stepping closer, his knuckles white as he fisted his hands. "you said i forgot a promise. what promise? who did i make it to? tell me!"

​jay stops tossing the apple. he looks down at sunghoon, his dark eyes entirely unreadable, a cool, indifferent expression on his handsome face. he bites into the fruit with a crisp, loud crunch. "can't do that, buddy. cosmic rules and all that. if i just hand you the cheat sheet, it defeats the whole purpose of your little soul-searching journey."

​"i don't care about the cosmic rules!" sunghoon roars, his anger flaring. "i’m trapped in a body that won't wake up, my friends think i'm dying, and i'm losing my mind! just tell me!"

​jay doesn't say a word. he just chews slowly, giving sunghoon a look full of pity and mild annoyance

​frustrated beyond belief, sunghoon kicks a loose pebble on the ground, his foot passing straight through it. "fine, whatever. you’re useless," he grumbles, turning his back on the reaper. "i need to get out of here. i need a change of scenery before i go completely insane."

​"oh? going for a stroll?" jay asks, hopping down from the wall with effortless grace, landing silently on his feet. "where to?"

​"i want to see sooha," sunghoon says, his voice tightening. the thought of her suddenly blooms in his mind. "she hasn't been back to the hospital since the first day. she’s probably a total wreck, she's probably crying her eyes out at home, waiting for news. i need to check on her."

​jay lets out a low, amused hum, a dangerous smirk slowly creeping back onto his sharp lips. "sooha, huh? well, you can certainly try to go see her. you're technically tethered to the city right now, basically anywhere within the radius of your accident or where your physical body is. sooha's apartment is well within the boundary. lead the way, lover boy."

"sooha? i'm here," he calls out automatically, even though he knows she can't hear him. he doesn't even bother knocking, he just steel himself and walks straight through the heavy wooden door

​the words freeze completely in his throat. his entire ghostly form goes rigid, a cold, sickening shock rippling through his soul

​there, on the plush velvet sofa, is sooha. but she isn't crying, she isn't a wreck. she isn't looking through old photos of them or praying for his recovery. she’s wrapped tightly in the arms of some random guy sunghoon has never seen before in his life

the guy’s jacket is thrown carelessly on the floor, and sooha’s hands are buried deep in his hair, her lips pressed against his in a deep, frantic, incredibly enthusiastic make-out session. she giggles between kisses, a soft, breathy sound that sunghoon recognizes all too well, except it was never meant for someone else

​"mnh, stop," sooha whispers playfully, pulling back just an inch, a flush on her cheeks. "what if someone calls from the hospital?"

​"who cares?" the guy scoffs, leaning back in, tracing his hands down her waist. "the guy’s in a literal coma, sooha. he's not checking his phone anytime soon. let’s just enjoy the quiet."

​sooha hums in agreement, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him back down into another breathless kiss

​sunghoon feels like he’s been hit by a semi-truck all over again. his breath hitches, his eyes wide with horror and absolute betrayal. his chest feels like it’s being ripped open by bare hands

​"no... no, this isn't real," sunghoon whispers, stepping backward, his hands trembling violently. "sooha... how could you?"

​from the doorway, a loud, roaring burst of laughter shatters the heavy silence. jay is literally leaning against the doorframe, clutching his stomach, laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking violently. "oh my god! an absolute classic! 'he's in a literal coma, sooha!' whew, that is cold-blooded! pure cinema!"

​"shut up! shut the hell up!" sunghoon screams, spinning around, his face completely distorted with a mixture of raw heartbreak and humiliating fury. he can't stand to look at the couch for even another second. the sight of them makes him want to vomit

​without another word, sunghoon flees. he sprints out of the apartment, tearing through the walls, running as fast as his spiritual form can carry him, desperate to erase the image of sooha's betrayal from his mind

​he doesn't stop running until he’s back in the quiet, dark hospital courtyard, collapsing onto the grass, panting heavily even though his lungs don't need air. his chest is heaving, his heart or where his heart used to be throbbing with a brutal, burning frustration

​jay materializes beside him, finally wiping a tear of laughter from his eye, though his expression tones down into something a bit more mocking. "well, that was educational, wasn't it? turns out your little princess didn't even need a tissue."

​"i said shut up!" sunghoon yells, grabbing his own hair, his ego completely shattered into a million sharp, painful pieces

​he was such a fool. a complete, arrogant idiot. he had pushed everyone away, he had pushed you away for a girl who didn't even care if he lived or died

​while sooha was making out with another guy, you were sitting in a cramped, sterile room, starving yourself, crying until your eyes swelled shut, yapping about your day just to keep his lifeless body company. you were the one who stayed

​a sudden, violent surge of desperation hits sunghoon’s core. the frustration boils over, turning into a frantic, burning need. he doesn't want to be a ghost anymore, he doesn't want to watch from the sidelines. he wants his life back, he wants to fix the absolute mess he made

​"i need to wake up," sunghoon whispers, his voice cracking as he looks up at jay, his eyes wide with a manic, unyielding determination. "jay, i don't care what it takes. i don't care about the promise right now. i need to get back into my body. i have to wake up, now!"

before you know it, day 28 hits. it’s a heavy, suffocating number because it means you and sunghoon only have exactly two days left as a couple. twenty-eight days ago, before the shouting matches and the radio silence, you guys had made a stupid, desperate thirty-day agreement

​you haven’t abandoned him once, you’ve practically lived in this tiny, sterile hospital room. the only times you ever leave are when you absolutely have to run to a morning lecture or dash back to your apartment to grab a fresh change of clothes. the rest of your life, your studying, your meals, your quiet breakdowns happens right here in the plastic chair by his bedside

​tonight feels different, though. the air in the room is thick, almost grieving. sunghoon’s spirit is leaning against the wall, his eyes tracking you as you move around the space. he freezes when he notices the corner of the room

your heavy backpack is fully zipped. your favorite oversized hoodie, the one you usually leave draped over the sofa, is neatly folded on top of a canvas tote bag. everything you own is packed up

​wait, what is she doing? sunghoon thinks, panic instantly flaring in his ghostly chest. why is she packing? is she leaving me? is she finally giving up because i’m not waking up?

​you walk over to his bed, your sneakers squeaking softly on the linoleum floors. you sit down, dragging the chair closer until your knees are brushing the edge of his mattress. you look so small, so entirely spent, with dark circles bruising the skin under your eyes

​"hey," you whisper, your voice cracking slightly before you clear your throat. you try to force a casual, effortless smile, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes

​and then, you just start yapping again. you talk about random stuff at first, trying to keep the mood light, but sunghoon can hear the underlying tremor in your words. his soul stands right over you, desperately listening, his heart dropping lower and lower with every sentence

​"so, um... i'm actually leaving in two days, sunghoon," you say softly, staring down at your own intertwined fingers. "i’m flying out to europe to finish my degree."

​"do you... do you even remember?" you let out a dry, bittersweet little chuckle, finally looking up at his pale, unconscious face. "back when we first met, during our very first coffee date, i told you about the dual degree program i applied for. i was so nervous, and you told me i’d be stupid not to take it if i got in. well... the paperwork finally went through, i have to go."

​"no," sunghoon blurts out, his voice echoing uselessly in the empty spaces of the room. "no, no, no. y/n, look at me! you can’t go to europe. you can’t leave me here like this!"

​he lunges forward, completely throwing his pride out the window. he drops to his knees right next to your chair, his transparent hands flying out to grab your shoulders. "y/n! look at me, please!" he roars, trying to shake you, trying to force your eyes to meet his but his hands just glide straight through your denim jacket, feeling nothing but a freezing, empty void.

​he doesn't stop. he gets frantic, his chest heaving with a manic desperation. he starts tapping your shoulders, waving his hands violently in front of your face, screaming your name until his throat burns. "i’m right here! i’m right next to you! don’t go, y/n, please, i’m sorry, i’m so sorry—"

​but you don't look up. you can't feel the ghost who is begging for your forgiveness on his knees. instead, you take a deep, shaky breath, fighting back the tears that are threatening to spill over

you lean forward, your shadow falling over his pale face. slowly, gently, you press a soft, lingering kiss right onto sunghoon’s cold forehead

​sunghoon freezes, his spiritual form trembling as a phantom warmth blooms where your lips touch his skin​. you pull back just an inch, your hands carefully resting on his unmoving chest

"thank you," you whisper, a single, stray tear finally escaping and tracking down your cheek. "thank you for everything, sunghoon. even the messy parts, our thirty days are basically up anyway... so, you're free now. you're completely free from me, you don't have to feel guilty anymore."

​you wipe your face quickly with the back of your hand, swallowing down the massive lump in your throat. "i hope you wake up soon, really. the world is way too quiet without you."

​you stand up, your chair scraping loudly against the floor. you give his peaceful, comatose body one last, long, heartbreaking look, engraving every detail of his face into your memory. then, you turn around, grab your packed bags, and walk out the door, shutting it softly behind you

the moment the door clicks shut, sunghoon snaps

​"JAY!" he screams, spinning around in the empty, silent room, his face twisted in pure, unadulterated rage. "JAY, GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!"

​with a lazy, irritated sigh, jay materializes near the window, his arms crossed over his chest. he looks completely annoyed, his sharp jaw tight. "dude, turn it down! seriously, you are the loudest, most obnoxious soul i have ever had to babysit. what is your problem?"

​"she's leaving!" sunghoon yells, marching straight up to the grim reaper, his eyes wild. "she's going to europe in two days! i need to get back into my body right now, jay! push me in, do whatever magic grim reaper stuff you do! i don't care anymore, just let me wake up!"

​jay doesn't even blink. he just pulls out his glowing digital ledger, completely ignoring sunghoon’s screaming, acting like he’s checking his schedule

​"are you listening to me?!" sunghoon roars, trying to grab jay’s jacket, but his hands pass through. "fine, you know what? whatever, ignore me."

​suddenly, a manic, hysterical laugh bubbles up in sunghoon’s chest. he stops pacing, a twisted, relieved smile spreading across his face. "wait. why am i even panicking? i’m a spirit, i don’t need a plane ticket, i don’t need a visa, i can just follow her. i’ll get on that plane with y/n, go to europe, and stay right by her side until my body wakes up. yeah... yeah, that works perfectly." sunghoon starts chuckling, feeling incredibly smug about his genius loophole

​jay stops scrolling on his device. he slowly lowers his hand, looking at sunghoon, and then, a dark, mocking laugh tears out of the reaper’s throat. it’s a cold, echoing sound that makes the hairs on sunghoon’s arms stand up

​"you? go to europe?" jay scoffs, shaking his head with an expression full of dark amusement. "oh, man. you really don't get how any of this works, do you?"

​sunghoon's laughter dies out. "what do you mean?"

​"you're a tethered spirit, sunghoon. and a incredibly weak one at that," jay explains, his voice dropping into a chillingly serious tone as he steps closer. "you can barely handle walking across the city without feeling exhausted. you think you can cross an entire ocean? the moment you try to follow her past the city limits, especially over open water, your soul will start to fray. it’ll literally dissolve, particle by particle, into nothingness."

​sunghoon’s face drains of what little color it has. "dissolve...?"

​"yeah," jay says, his eyes boring into sunghoon's. "and if your soul dissolves? you don't get a neat little funeral. you don't get to go to the afterlife. your consciousness is just wiped out completely and that physical body lying on the bed over there? its heart will just stop beating. total, permanent brain death. you’ll be gone forever, park sunghoon. you can't follow her."

​the reality of the situation hits sunghoon like a concrete wall. the sheer, brutal weight of his helplessness crushes his remaining ego into dust. he can't leave, he can't follow you, and he can't wake up. he’s completely, utterly stuck

​frustration, grief, and a massive wave of bitter regret boil up inside him. his shoulders slump, his head dropping into his hands as a shaky breath hitches in his throat

​jay watches him, the mocking smirk finally fading from his face, replaced by a quiet, grounded sigh

​"there you go," jay says softly, crossing his arms as he leans against the bed frame. "let it set in, drown in that regret for a little bit. you need to actually feel the weight of what you threw away."

​sunghoon looks up through phantom, blurry eyes, his voice completely broken. "please, jay... just tell me what to do. tell me how to fix this."

​jay looks down at his glowing device one last time, a small, mysterious glint in his eyes. "fine. look at me, sunghoon. you want to know how to fix this? then it’s time you finally remember that promise you made."

another whole week drags by like molasses, and the hospital room feels completely hollow now

​you’re gone. you actually left for europe. the space where your plastic chair used to be is empty, now, the only people taking turns sitting in that cramped room are jake and heeseung. they split the shifts evenly, looking exhausted but refusing to let sunghoon be entirely alone. as for sooha? she hasn't shown her face a single time since that first afternoon

​sunghoon’s spirit has spent the last seven days throwing a massive, pathetic tantrum. he’s been totally sulking, refusing to even look at jay. mostly, he just mopes around the edges of his hospital room, occasionally throwing himself at his comatose physical body in a desperate, angry attempt to force his way back in. but every single time, he just slips straight through the mattress, landing on the floor like smoke

​finally, on the seventh night, the frustration gets too heavy to carry. sunghoon swallows his pride and drifts back out to the moonlit hospital park, looking for the only person who can actually hear him

​he finds jay sitting cross-legged on a concrete picnic table, glaring intently at his glowing smartphone screen. a tiny, tinny engine roar echoes from the speakers

​"go on, pass him! inside line, you idiot!" jay mutters aggressively to the screen, completely locked in

​sunghoon blinks, staring at him. "are you... are you watching formula 1 right now?"

​"shh! it’s the final lap of the monaco gp, do not ruin this for me," jay snaps, not even looking up. he’s easily the most bizarre, chronically online grim reaper to ever exist. he’s wearing a modern streetwear hoodie, tapping his foot to the rhythm of the race car engines

​sunghoon doesn't care about the race. his soul feels like it's literally fraying at the edges from pure desperation. he walks right up to the edge of the table, his shoulders dropping, all the usual arrogance completely drained from his posture

​"jay, please," sunghoon whispers, his voice cracking

​jay sighs heavily, hitting pause on his phone and locking it with a click. he looks up, his sharp eyes narrowing at the pathetic sight of sunghoon. "jeez. what happened to the arrogant prince? you look like a drowned cat."

​"i'm begging you," sunghoon says, and he actually means it. he drops his head, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "i will do literally anything. i'll go to whatever afterlife you want. i'll accept any punishment just... please tell me what the promise was, i need to know how to get back to her. i can't let her leave like this."

​jay looks genuinely grossed out by the sudden display of vulnerability. he makes a face, shuddering dramatically. "ew, stop. the begging is honestly giving me the ick. it’s so weird seeing you act like a decent human being. stand up straight, you're embarrassing both of us."

​sunghoon doesn't move. he just stares at jay with wild, pleading eyes

​jay groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose in sheer defeat. "fine. alright! stop looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes, it’s ruining my vibe. you want to remember so badly? fine. blink twice."

​sunghoon doesn't hesitate. he closes his eyes, opens them, and snaps them shut a second time

​the world doesn't just shift, it completely dissolves. the sterile scent of hospital bleach and the distant hum of city traffic vanish in a split second

instead, the sharp, metallic tang of copper and rust hits sunghoon’s nose, mixed with the damp, earthy smell of a dense, ancient forest. the air is thick and freezing cold

​sunghoon opens his eyes and gasps. they aren't in the park anymore. giant, ancient oak trees tower over them, their thick canopy blocking out most of the gray, overcast sky. everything looks muted, heavy, and old

​"where... where are we?" sunghoon stammers, his voice sounding entirely different in this strange air

​"keep your eyes open and follow me," jay says coldly

​as sunghoon steps past a thick patch of brambles, his breath catches in his throat. the forest floor is absolute chaos. swords, shattered wooden shields, and broken arrows are scattered across the mud. and worse, there are bodies. men clad in heavy, blood-stained iron armor are strewn everywhere, lifeless eyes staring blankly up at the gray sky

​"is this... the middle ages?" sunghoon whispers, a cold sweat breaking out across his spiritual form

​"look over there," jay instructs, pointing a gloved finger toward a massive, moss-covered boulder near a clearing

​sunghoon slowly walks closer, his heart hammering against his ribs. leaning heavily against the stone is a young man. his face is completely caked in dirt, grime, and dark, sticky blood. he’s clutching his stomach, his fingers desperately trying to hold together a massive, jagged sword wound that is leaking crimson onto the grass. his breathing is a ragged, wet wheeze

​sunghoon takes a sharp breath. the dying man has his exact face

​standing right in front of the dying soldier is another figure. it’s jay, but this version of jay looks entirely ancient, his eyes glowing with a terrifying, absolute authority, holding a long, dark scythe that seems to absorb the very light around it

​"this is where we first met," the modern jay whispers, standing right next to sunghoon’s spirit as they both watch the past unfold. "you were a captain in a war that didn't even matter and your time was up."

​the dying sunghoon looks up at the medieval reaper, his vision clearly failing, but his grip on jay’s coat is fierce.

​"my girl... y/n. where... where is she going?" the dying soldier gasps out, blood bubbling at the corner of his lips

​"y/n? you mean the girl they fed to the flames?" the past jay asks, his voice echoing with an eerie, detached calm. "not your concern anymore, she’s got her own destination. you go to your afterlife, she goes to hers. that’s how the system works."

​"no... wait," the soldier begs, his voice cracking with an intense, agonizing passion. "listen to me, reaper. whatever you are. i don't care about my soul... i don't care about heaven. in the next life... and the life after that... in every single universe... please, let me be with her. let me find y/n again. we only had a few years in this wretched life, but i love her... i love her more than my own breath."

​the past jay tilts his head, intrigued. "you would bargain with a reaper? what are you willing to pay for a loop of fate like that?"

​"anything," the dying sunghoon chokes out, tears cutting clean tracks through the blood on his cheeks. "take my soul to the deepest pits of hell when it's over... erase my existence entirely. let me dissolve into nothingness, i don't care... just give me another chance to love her. i promise i'll hold onto her next time... i promise."

​the past jay stares at him for a long, heavy moment before lowering his dark blade. "a promise of eternal devotion, sealed with the threat of absolute erasure. very well, captain. your next life will be tied to hers. but remember... if you break her heart, if you fail to hold onto her, the contract voids and your soul belongs to the void."

​with a swift, clean motion, the past jay touches the soldier’s forehead. the dying sunghoon’s eyes roll back, his head slumping forward as his final breath leaves his body.

​"blink twice, kid." sunghoon snaps his eyes shut, his entire soul shaking violently as the memory burns itself into the very fabric of his consciousness. he blinks again

​snap

​the cold forest air is gone. the smell of blood vanishes. sunghoon is back in the hospital park, the neon city lights reflecting off the wet pavement

​he stands there, completely frozen, his chest heaving as the sheer weight of his own forgotten words crashes down on him

​“i promise i’ll hold onto her next time... i promise.”

​he had bartered his entire eternal existence just for a chance to stand next to you again. he had loved you across lifetimes and in this life, he had completely forgotten. he had taken your presence for granted, treated you like an annoyance, fought with you, and let you walk away for a girl who didn't even care enough to visit him in the hospital. he had literally signed his own soul's death warrant because of his own stupid, blinding ego

​sunghoon slowly looks up.

​jay is standing on the picnic table, looking down at him with that same familiar, incredibly arrogant, and smug smirk playing on his lips. he twirls his phone in his hand, his eyes gleaming with a sharp, knowing satisfaction

​"so," jay says, his tone dripping with a cool, mocking confidence. "now you remember. i get to collect your soul for the void. any last words before the clock runs out?"

sunghoon drops straight to his knees on the damp grass, the cold from the ground cutting right through his spiritual form, though he barely even registers it. his mind is a complete, chaotic mess of your tear-stained face, a bloody medieval battlefield, and the terrifying realization that he has voluntarily walked himself right to the edge of eternal erasure

​"jay, please," sunghoon chokes out, staring at the polished leather boots of the grim reaper standing on the picnic table above him. all the pride, all the high and mighty attitude he carried like armor for the past three weeks completely gone. shashed into pieces. "one more chance, just give me one single shot to fix this. i can't let it end like this, i can't let her leave."

​jay lets out a long, theatrical groan, looking up at the night sky like he’s asking the universe why he got stuck with the dramatic ones. "dude, seriously? i just told you the contract is practically voided. you messed up, you broke the terms. i don't do extensions."

​"i'll do anything," sunghoon insists, his voice desperate, trembling as he reaches up to grasp at the hem of jay’s jacket, his fingers passing right through the dark fabric like mist. "i don't care what it is. i’ll be whatever you want. a servant, a ghost, a punching bag, literally anything. just give me a chance to bridge the gap before the thirty days run out completely."

​jay pauses. he lowers his gaze, staring down at sunghoon with a sharp, calculating glint in his dark eyes. the silence stretches between them, heavy and suffocating, punctuated only by the distant, muffled sounds of the city

​"anything, huh?" jay murmurs, a slow, dangerous smile creeping back onto his face. it isn't the playful, sarcastic smirk from before, this one is calculating. "well... it just so happens i've been drowning in paperwork lately, and the higher ups are breathing down my neck about efficiency. you want a chance? fine. you’re going to work for it. congratulations, kid. you're my new intern."

​sunghoon blinks, completely caught off guard. "your... what?"

​"my assistant," jay says, hopping down from the table and dusting off his jeans. "you're going to help me harvest. let's see if you actually have what it takes to appreciate a soul, since you threw yours around like trash."

every time jay tosses a casual, heartless comment over his shoulder, sunghoon feels a sick twist in his chest, realizing oh my god that was me. he is forced to swallow a bitter dose of his own medicine every single hour of the day, watching his own worst personality traits play out through an all powerful deity who loves to make his life miserable

​the first time sunghoon accompanies jay on a call, the casual, rock listening, formula 1 watching reaper completely vanishes. the air in the room drops down to a freezing, bone-chilling temperature. sunghoon watches from the corner of a dimly lit hospital room as an elderly man takes his final, rattling breath

​suddenly, a massive, terrifying energy fills the space. out of thin air, a colossal scythe materializes in jay’s hands. the blade is made of a dark, obsidian metal that seems to actively swallow the light around it, looking impossibly sharp and heavy. jay’s eyes completely change, they turn cold, ancient, and completely devoid of human emotion. with one swift, silent swing, jay cuts the silver thread of life, his expression completely blank, like an executioner doing a routine job

​sunghoon’s soul shivers violently, terror pinning him to the spot. this isn't the funny guy from the park, this is death itself

​"don't just stand there gaping like an idiot, park," jay’s voice cuts through the freezing room, snapping sunghoon out of his trance. jay’s tone is sharp, commanding, and totally professional. "log it, now."

​sunghoon’s hands shake as he pulls out jay’s glowing digital ledger. his official duty as an assistant is incredibly grim. he has to type in the exact timestamp of the death, verify the soul’s legal identity, and press the glowing "confirm departure to afterlife" button to officially close out the case

​for two excruciating weeks, this is sunghoon’s reality. two weeks of watching families scream in agony, two weeks of witnessing the abrupt end of human lives, and two weeks of logging souls into a cold, black screen. it feels like his own personal hell

every single confirmation he hits feels like a weight being added to his own soul, dragging him closer to the realization of just how fragile existence really is and every night, he thinks of you, wondering if his own name is about to pop up on that screen next

​by the fourteenth day, sunghoon is completely broken down, his spiritual form feeling heavy and exhausted from the emotional toll of the job

​their final call of the night takes them to a quiet, winding suburban street where a terrible car crash has just occurred. it’s a horrific echo of sunghoon's own accident. an elderly husband and wife are trapped inside the vehicle, their pulses fading rapidly as the sirens wail in the distance

​jay steps forward, the massive scythe appearing in his grip with a terrifying, familiar hum. sunghoon prepares himself, pulling out the ledger, his eyes fixed on the couple

​but as jay steps closer, sunghoon notices something he hasn't seen on any other soul before

​stretching between the husband and the wife, glowing with a soft, ethereal light, is a thick silver thread. it doesn't look like the fragile, thin life cords jay cuts. this one is intricately woven, pulsing with a gentle, warm energy, binding their two chests together so tightly that even as their breathing slows, the light between them remains completely solid

​jay raises his scythe, cutting their life threads with two clean strokes. the couple’s spirits gently rise from their bodies, immediately reaching out to hold each other’s hands, their expressions peaceful, completely unfazed by the death around them because they are still together. the silver thread between them remains perfectly intact, pulling them closer as they float upward

​sunghoon stares at it, completely mesmerized. "jay... what is that? why didn't that thread break when you cut their life?"

​jay lets the scythe dissolve into smoke, his expression softening back into his usual, casual demeanor as he shoves his hands into his pockets. he watches the elderly couple fade into the night sky

​"that’s a soul bond, sunghoon," jay says softly, his tone completely lacking its usual sarcastic edge. "it’s a connection born from lifetime after lifetime of choosing each other. it’s the strongest magic in the universe. it ensures that no matter where they go, or what life they live, they will always find their way back to each other."

​sunghoon’s chest tightens with a sudden, suffocating ache. "do... do me and y/n have that?"

​jay turns around slowly, his sharp eyes fixed on sunghoon’s face. the pity is back, heavy and unyielding

​"you did," jay whispers. "in fact, yours was one of the thickest, brightest silver bonds i’ve ever seen. you two have been weaving it since the middle ages, sunghoon. it survived wars, plagues, and centuries of separation."

​sunghoon feels a spark of hope flare up in his chest, but jay’s next words completely douse it in ice water.

​"but a soul bond isn't indestructible," jay continues, his voice dropping into a chillingly serious register. "it requires both sides to feed it. and for the past month, you’ve been actively hacking away at it with your ego. when you broke your promise, when you chose someone else.. you started fraying the cord."

​jay steps closer, pointing directly at sunghoon’s chest. sunghoon looks down, and his heart stops

​there, protruding from his chest, is a tiny, pathetic wisp of silver light. it’s incredibly thin, practically translucent, and the edges are fraying violently, looking like a piece of thread that is about to snap under the slightest bit of tension

​"it’s almost gone," jay says bluntly. "and let me make one thing completely clear to you, park sunghoon. if that final strand snaps... it’s over, completely over. you won't just lose her in this life. you will never cross paths with y/n again. not in the next life, not in the afterlife, not in any universe. you will become complete strangers across eternity."

​sunghoon stares at the fraying thread, a cold, suffocating wave of pure panic crashing over him. three weeks have passed, you’re in europe. the thirty days are officially over. the bond is snapping right in front of his eyes, and he is still trapped as a ghost, totally helpless

the loud, frantic roar of racing engines echoes from jay’s phone screen, cutting through the heavy midnight air of the park

​sunghoon is sitting on the edge of the stone bench right next to him, his knees pulled up to his chest, his eyes completely glassy. jay is totally locked in, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, occasionally shouting at the tiny cars on the screen

sunghoon doesn't understand a single thing about formula 1. the bright flashes of red and silver cars taking tight corners mean absolutely nothing to him right now. to him, it’s just background noise to the absolute chaos screaming inside his own head

​his mind is entirely stuck on that fraying, pathetic silver thread in his chest. it’s a constant, phantom itch, a terrifying visual reminder that he is actively slipping out of your universe

​after what feels like hours of agonizing silence, sunghoon clears his raspy throat. "i want to fix it," he says, his voice barely a whisper, completely catching jay off guard

​jay doesn't hit pause this time, but he slowly lowers the phone, his sharp eyes cutting over to sunghoon through the dark. "fix what?"

​"the thread. my bond with y/n," sunghoon says, turning his head to look directly into the reaper's eyes

all the fake bravado, the stubborn pride, the ego, it’s all been completely burned away. there’s only raw, desperate determination left. "i want to make it whole again, i don't care what it takes."

​jay lets out a low, breathy sigh, locking his phone and shoving it into his hoodie pocket. the playful demeanor is gone instantly. "it's not that simple, sunghoon. fixing a broken soul bond isn't like taping a ripped piece of paper back together. it’s incredibly hard. it takes an agonizing amount of time, and honestly? the mental toll is brutal."

​"i don't care," sunghoon snaps instantly, his voice cracking but firm. "i genuinely don't care if it takes a hundred years, jay. as long as i get to come back to her. as long as that thread is perfect again. i'll do whatever you tell me to do."

​jay stares at him for a long, heavy moment, trying to see if the kid is bluffing. but sunghoon’s gaze doesn't waver once.

​"you're really serious about this, huh?" jay murmurs, a faint, almost respectful glint appearing in his dark eyes. he leans back against the picnic table, crossing his arms. "alright, let me lay out the actual reality for you. you and y/n? you guys aren't just a casual, one-time thing. you’ve actually managed to successfully end up together in five different lifetimes before this one. five times you found each other, loved each other, and closed the loop perfectly."

​sunghoon’s breath hitches. five lifetimes.

​"but because you completely wrecked the contract in this life," jay continues, pointing a sharp finger at sunghoon’s chest, "saving that thread is going to take a long time. half a year, to be exact. six months in human time."

​sunghoon frowns, his mind instantly racing back to his physical body. "wait... six months? but what about my body in the hospital? am i just going to be a vegetable for half a year?"

​jay lets out a dry, slightly mocking chuckle. "honestly, your physical injuries from the crash weren't even that bad. you should’ve woken up from that coma like, two weeks ago. the doctors are completely baffled because medically, your brain is fine. but the catch is... you’re currently tied up in grim reaper business. because your soul is entangled with me and the ledger, your spirit is physically locked out of your own body. you can't go back until this contract is either fulfilled or permanently cancelled."

​sunghoon looks down at his transparent hands, a heavy wave of guilt washing over him. six months of making his friends worry, six months of being a ghost, six months of you being all the way across the world in europe, thinking he’s either dead or completely moved on

​"it's fine," sunghoon whispers, closing his eyes tightly before looking back up at jay. "if half a year is what it takes to make sure i don't lose her forever, then i'll take it just tell me how to fix the thread."

​"well, since you’re so eager to sign your life away again... let me tell you a little secret. that medieval battlefield i showed you? that wasn't even the beginning. you and y/n actually started weaving your very first connection all the way back in ancient greece."

​sunghoon’s eyes widen. "ancient greece?"

​"yeah. you guys were just kids back then, standing inside this beautiful, crumbling stone temple," jay says, his voice drifting off like he’s reading a historical text from his mind. "you didn't make an official contract with a reaper back then, so there was no magic binding you but the sheer weight of your feelings for each other in that temple was so intense that it planted the seed for every single life that followed. you’ve literally been running after her for thousands of years."

​the image of a sun-drenched stone temple flashes faintly in sunghoon’s mind, giving him a strange, warm sensation in his chest but the warmth is immediately crushed by the reality of his current situation

​"so... how do i fix it now?" sunghoon asks frantically. "what do i have to do with those past lives?"

​jay straightens up, his tone turning completely serious, the weight of a deity settling over his shoulders. "to repair a frayed bond, you have to heal the roots. i’m going to send your spirit back through time. you’re going to visit every single one of those past lives where you two existed. and your only job? you have to find her in each era, look her in the eyes, and genuinely ask for her forgiveness. you have to apologize for the arrogance, the broken promises, and the pain you caused her in this current life. every time you successfully heal a past version of your connection, a piece of that silver thread will knit itself back together."

​jay steps closer, his shadow looming over sunghoon. "but let me warn you, park sunghoon. it is not going to be an easy walk in the park. you’re going to experience the pain, the heartbreak, and the tragedies of those eras all over again. if you fail to make amends in even one of those timelines, the thread snaps instantly, and you’re gone. the risks are absolute."

​sunghoon stands up slowly, his spiritual form suddenly glowing a little brighter with pure, unyielding resolve. he looks at jay, his jaw clenched, his eyes completely steady

​"i don't care about the risks," sunghoon says, his voice echoing with absolute certainty. "send me back, jay. i'll bear every single consequence, just let me fix what i broke."

instead of the whole double-blink routine, jay just casually reaches out and slaps a hand onto sunghoon’s shoulder

​thud

​the sound doesn't even make sense because they’re both spirits, but the moment jay's palm connects, the world violently glitches. the modern glass buildings of the hospital, the plastic benches, and the soft neon glow of the city streets completely unravel like loose threads on a sweater

right before sunghoon’s eyes, giant, towering white marble pillars shoot up into a sky so blindingly blue it actually hurts to look at. the air instantly transitions from the heavy, damp smell of car exhaust and city rain to something incredibly crisp salty sea breeze, blooming jasmine, and the faint, earthy scent of sun baked stone

​they’re still ghosts, completely invisible to the world, but sunghoon is entirely paralyzed by the sheer gravity of what just happened. his jaw drops as he looks around the bustling, sun-drenched center of an ancient greek city. people are walking past them dressed in flowing linen tunics, carrying clay pots and shouting out prices for fresh olives and figs at a nearby market

​"holy crap," sunghoon breathes, his eyes wide as he looks down at his own outfit. he and jay are literally the only people wearing modern streetwear, sticking out like neon signs in a black-and-white movie. "jay, this is... you did this with a single tap? your powers are actually insane."

​jay just lets out a bored, dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as he grabs the back of sunghoon’s hoodie and yanks him forward. "yeah, yeah, i'm a god, we get it. stop gaping like a tourist and move your legs, park. we aren't here to sightsee."

​jay drags him through the narrow, stone-paved alleys, steering him away from the busy market square until they stop in front of a modest, whitewashed courtyard house. sunghoon is about to ask what they're waiting for when the heavy wooden door bursts open

​a little boy, probably around seven years old, comes barreling out into the street, giggling like a maniac. he’s wearing a simple white tunic, his dark hair a messy, windblown nest. close behind him, an older woman steps into the doorway, wiping her hands on an apron as she yells exasperatedly down the street, calling out his name

​sunghoon's heart does a violent flip in his chest. that's me

​"he looks so quiet and calm, but man, that kid was a menace," sunghoon mutters, watching his past self dodge a stray cart with effortless agility

​the little boy sprints all the way down to a quiet, grassy cliffside park overlooking the deep blue sea. sitting on a smooth stone near the edge is a little girl, her small feet swinging back and forth. the moment she hears his footsteps, she turns around, a massive, bright smile breaking across her face

​sunghoon feels a sharp, emotional ache bloom right in the center of his chest. you look so familiar, even as a child, with those same bright, expressive eyes. the two kids immediately dive into a game of tag, laughing hysterically as they run around the ancient trees, completely oblivious to the two time traveling ghosts watching them from the shadows

​"see? told you," jay says quietly, his voice unusually soft as he leans against a stone wall, arms crossed. "you two have been joined at the hip since the very beginning. you didn't just meet in a college lecture hall, sunghoon. you've been practicing loving her for centuries."

​before sunghoon can even fully process the sight of their childhood, jay grabs his shoulder again, pulling him backward into the shadow of a grand marble building

​the world blurs into a dizzying streak of light and shadow. sunghoon watches the stones beneath his feet weather and crack, while the pillars of the nearby temple grow more solid, majestic, and weathered by time. jay is fast forwarding through the years like a video clip

​when the spinning finally stops, the sun is setting, casting a warm, golden-purple hue over the cliffside. standing right under the grand archway of the temple are two teenagers. they look about eighteen now

​sunghoon completely loses his breath. you are standing there, dressed in a soft, elegant palla that drapes beautifully over your shoulders. your hair is pinned back, and you look so breathtakingly beautiful that the modern sunghoon can’t even take his eyes off you. your past self is holding hands with the eighteen year old version of sunghoon, your fingers tightly laced together

​the young couple walks into the quiet, candle lit temple. they kneel together before a smooth marble altar, their heads bowed

​"please," your past voice echoes softly through the sacred space, sweet and filled with an intense, desperate sincerity. "if our time in this life is ever cut short... please let us find each other again. in the next life, in the world after that. don't let me forget him."

​the teenage sunghoon presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, his eyes filled with a fierce, unwavering devotion. "i won't ever forget you, y/n. i'll find you, i swear it."

​watching this, the ghostly sunghoon feels a burning wave of shame wash over him. he broke that oath. he forgot, he treated that sacred, centuries old devotion like a minor inconvenience in the modern world

​"no time to cry yet, captain," jay’s voice cuts through his spiral

​with another quick flick of jay’s wrist, the scenery shifts one last time, the atmosphere instantly turning incredibly heavy, tense, and suffocating. the peaceful sunset is replaced by a gloomy, gray afternoon

​they are standing outside the barracks. the eighteen year old sunghoon is now wearing heavy bronze armor, a polished helmet resting under his arm. his face is hardened, but his eyes are breaking as he stares down at you

​you are crying. your shoulders are shaking violently as you clutch the edges of his bronze chestplate, your tears dripping onto the cold metal. you’re an absolute crybaby in this life too, your heart completely on your sleeve

​"you have to come back," you sob, your voice cracking with an agonizing fear. "please, you promised me. you can't leave me here alone."

​"i will come back to you, y/n. i swear on my life, i will return," the young soldier promises, though his own voice is trembling with the terrifying knowledge that he might be marching straight to his death

​"alright, intern, this is your cue," jay says, his sharp voice dropping all the sarcastic weight. he steps up right behind sunghoon, pushing him forward toward the armored soldier. "go on. step into his skin, you have exactly one minute to make amends before the timeline locks. do not mess this up."

​sunghoon swallows the massive lump in his throat. his hands are shaking as he takes a hesitant step forward, aligning his spiritual form with the back of the young captain. with a strange, magnetic pull, his consciousness is violently slammed into the physical weight of the bronze armor.

​suddenly, he can feel everything. the heavy, suffocating weight of the breastplate, the cold sweat dripping down his neck, and the raw, heartbreaking warmth of your small hands clutching his chest

​he looks down. you are looking up at him through a thick veil of tears, your eyes full of a desperate, terrifying love. seeing you look at him like that without the anger, without the bitterness of their modern thirty day breakup completely shatters him. he misses you so deeply it physically hurts his chest

​without a second thought, sunghoon lunges forward, throwing his armored arms around your waist and pulling you flush against him. he buries his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet, familiar scent of your hair

​"sunghoon...?" you gasp softly, caught off guard by the sheer, sudden desperation in his hold

​"i'm sorry," sunghoon chokes out, his voice thick with raw emotion. he doesn't mention the modern world, he doesn't mention the grim reaper, or the fact that he’s from a future where he completely broke your heart. he just grips you tighter, as if he could physically hold your souls together. "y/n, i am so, so sorry for everything, for every time i'm going to make you cry, for being an arrogant idiot, for taking you for granted. please... please forgive me. i’m so sorry."

​you blink through your tears, completely confused by his strange, overwhelming apology, but the pure sincerity in his voice melts any fear away. you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder

​"i forgive you," you whisper softly against his skin, a tear rolling down onto his armor. "i will always forgive you, sunghoon. just come back to me."

​the moment the words i forgive you leave your lips, a sudden, blinding jolt of electricity shoots straight through sunghoon's chest. he feels a strange warmth ignite in his core, and with a violent gasp, his spirit is forcibly ejected from the physical body, flying backward through the air

gasp

​sunghoon’s eyes fly open

​the ancient marble temples are gone. the heavy bronze armor is gone. he’s sitting flat on his ass on the damp grass of the modern hospital park, the familiar, annoying hum of city traffic filling his ears

​he touches his chest frantically. there, glowing just a tiny bit brighter than before, the frayed silver thread has knit a tiny section of itself back together. it’s still incredibly thin and fragile, but it’s no longer unraveling

​but instead of feeling happy, an overwhelming wave of pure sadness and grief crashes over him. his eyes burn, and a heavy, painful breath hitches in his throat as he stares blankly at the grass. he feels so entirely spent, his chest aching with the residual heartbreak of a lifetime that wasn't even his own.

​"jeez. look at you, already sulking," jay’s smooth, mocking voice floats down from above

​sunghoon looks up through blurry eyes. jay is standing on the stone picnic table, hands shoved casually in his hoodie pockets, staring down at him with an incredibly arrogant, unbothered smirk

​"that was... that was so heavy, jay," sunghoon whispers, his voice trembling. "she was crying so hard... i hate seeing her cry like that."

​jay let out a dry, clicking sound with his tongue, slowly shaking his head as his smirk turns a bit colder. "man, you really are weak, aren't you? you’re crying over that? let me tell you something, assistant... that era was a walk in the park. you guys actually loved each other there. the real tragedies haven't even started yet. get your act together, because the next timeline is going to absolutely destroy you."

sunghoon takes a deep, ragged breath, trying to blink away the residual warmth of that ancient greek sunset. he forces himself to stand up on his shaky, translucent legs, wiping a hand across his face. his chest still feels bruised from the sheer emotional weight of your past self's tears, but looking at the glowing silver thread just a fraction more secure than it was five minutes ago he knows he can’t stop

​"i'm ready," sunghoon says, his jaw tightening as he looks up at the grim reaper. "take me to the next one, jay. whatever it is, let's just get it over with."

​jay doesn't say a word this time. the teasing smirk is entirely gone, replaced by a cool, unreadable expression. he raises his hand, his thumb and middle finger aligning perfectly

click

​the sharp sound echoes through the quiet hospital park, and the world folds in on itself instantly. the concrete pavement beneath sunghoon’s feet melts into highly polished, deep mahogany wood. the cool night breeze is instantly replaced by the heavy, suffocating scent of burning beeswax candles, aged parchment, and expensive lavender oil

​sunghoon blinks, completely disoriented. he isn't outside anymore. he’s standing in the middle of a massive, breathtaking corridor. towering arched windows stretch up toward a ceiling covered in intricate, gold leaf frescoes depicting mythical creatures and royal battles. huge, velvet drapes in royal navy hang from the walls, catching the soft, flickering light of a dozen iron chandeliers

​"woah," sunghoon mutters, completely losing his train of thought as he turns around in a circle, staring blankly at the sheer luxury of the place. "this is... insane. what kind of palace is this?"

​smack

​"ow!" sunghoon yelps, rubbing the back of his shoulder where jay had just hard palmed him.

​"stop daydreaming, tourist," jay groans, rolling his eyes as he starts walking down the long hallway, his boots making absolutely no sound on the pristine floor. "we aren't architectural critics. keep your eyes open. we’re looking for you, remember?"

​sunghoon quickly scrambles to catch up, his modern sweatpants and hoodie looking hilariously out of place against the medieval luxury. they wander through a maze of winding corridors, passing silent guards standing at attention who don't even blink as the two ghosts glide right past them

​finally, at the end of a secluded wing of the castle, they spot a tall figure walking with a heavy, commanding stride

​sunghoon freezes. the man is wearing a structured, deep charcoal uniform trimmed with silver embroidery, a heavy steel sword sheathed at his hip. his hair is pushed back neatly, exposing a sharp, unyielding jawline. he carries himself with an terrifying amount of authority. the kind of presence that makes people move out of the way without him saying a single word

​"the grand commander of the royal guard," jay whispers from behind sunghoon, his tone casual but informative. "rumored to be the strongest, most ruthless warrior of this entire kingdom. nobody dared to cross his path. well... nobody except one person."

​the past sunghoon stops in front of a pair of massive, towering oak doors. he pushes them open quietly, stepping inside what looks like a grand, multi level royal library. sunghoon and jay follow closely behind, slipping through the closing doors like smoke

​the library is warm, lit by the golden glow of a massive fireplace. and there, sitting at a long wooden table buried under a literal mountain of thick leather-bound books and scrolls, is you

​the moment your past self hears the heavy click of his boots, you look up. a brilliant, radiant smile breaks across your face, erasing all the stress of your studying. you slide out of your chair so fast you almost knock over an inkwell, running straight into the past sunghoon’s arms. you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, burying your face in his silver trimmed collar

​he catches you effortlessly, his arms winding around your waist, pulling you so close there’s absolutely no space left between you. the ruthless commander completely melts, his face softening into an expression of pure, unadulterated adoration

​"i missed you," your past self murmurs, your voice muffled against his shoulder. "you were gone for three whole days, my love."

​"i know, princess. i’m sorry. the northern border took longer than expected," the past sunghoon whispers back, his voice dropping into a deep, gentle register that the modern sunghoon recognizes all too well

​standing in the shadows, the modern sunghoon’s spirit flinches. they were already together. they were deeply, hopelessly in love

​"she was the daughter of one of the castle's kitchen maids," jay explains quietly, watching the couple sway slightly in the firelight. "grew up in the servants' quarters, but she had a brilliant mind. she practically lived in this library, teaching herself languages, history, and science. she was easily the smartest girl in the entire kingdom. that’s why you fell for her."

​sunghoon stares at your past self, a bittersweet ache tightening his chest. she's exactly the same, he thinks. even in the modern world, y/n was always the smart one. you were always the one staying up late to study for midterms, the one who tried to help him with his essays, the one whose brain he always admired, even when his stubborn ego refused to admit it out loud. some things never change across lifetimes

​"alright, dynamic duo, time to move," jay says, breaking the spell.

​he grabs sunghoon’s wrist, dragging him backward through the solid stone wall of the library. the scenery violently blurs again, the golden firelight stretching into long lines of light before snapping into total darkness

​when the world solidifies, the heavy castle walls are gone. instead, the air smells like woodsmoke, pine trees, and fresh dew. the sky above is a brilliant canvas of thousands of stars, completely unpolluted by city lights

​they are in the middle of a secluded forest clearing. a small, crackling campfire throws dancing orange shadows over a small canvas tent. sitting on a thick woolen blanket right by the fire are the past sunghoon and you. he’s wrapped a heavy fur cloak around your shoulders, and you’re leaning back against his chest, animatedly talking about a passage in a book you had just finished reading, your hands gesturing wildly in the air

​the past sunghoon isn't even looking at the fire. he’s just staring down at your face, completely transfixed by the way your eyes light up when you're passionate about something. he reaches up, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear

​"i mean it, sunghoon," your past self says softly, turning your head slightly to look up at him, your expression turning serious under the starlight. "no matter what happens... promise me we stay together. promise me you won't let the court politics pull you away."

​"i promise, my love," the commander says fiercely, pressing a firm, desperate kiss to the crown of your head. "i will never leave your side. i’d burn the whole kingdom to the ground before i let them take you from me."

​the modern sunghoon lets out a shaky breath, covering his mouth with his hand. another promise. another sacred oath he ended up breaking in the future

​"turn around," jay’s voice drops all the warmth, turning completely flat and freezing cold. "the fast forward is over."

​sunghoon turns around slowly, his heart sinking into his stomach. the beautiful forest clearing dissolves into a dark, damp, terrifying space. the smell of pine is replaced by the sickening, suffocating stench of rotting straw, mold, and rusted iron

​they are standing in the subterranean dungeons beneath the palace. and there, locked inside a cramped, filthy iron cage, is you

​sunghoon’s soul violently shudders. your beautiful dress is torn and stained with dirt. your hair is a matted mess, and your eyes are completely swollen and bloodshot from hours of crying. you look so incredibly frail, shivering against the cold stone floor, curling yourself into a tight ball

​outside the cell, the past version of sunghoon is standing there, his hands gripping the iron bars so tightly his knuckles are completely white, bleeding from where the rusted metal cuts into his skin. tears are streaming openly down his face, his ruthless commander facade completely shattered

​"why?" the ghost of sunghoon whispers, his voice trembling with a terrifying panic. "jay, what happened? what did they do to her?!"

​"the royal council," jay says bluntly, his eyes fixed on the heartbreaking scene. "they found out about her intelligence. a servant girl who knew more about science and medicine than the court doctors? they called it heresy. they accused her of practicing witchcraft, claiming she used dark magic to bewitch the grand commander. they’re going to execute her, sunghoon."

​"no... no, she was just studying books! she didn't do anything wrong!" sunghoon roars, trying to lunge toward the cell, but jay grabs his shoulder, his grip tightening like a vise

​"the guards are coming down the corridor in exactly two minutes to take her to the gallows," jay barks, his tone dead serious as he shoves sunghoon toward the crying commander. "this is your only shot, get in there and make it right before she dies."

​sunghoon doesn't even hesitate. he throws his spirit forward, slamming violently into the physical body of his past self

​the transition is agonizing. suddenly, the phantom pain in his chest turns into a real, suffocating heartbreak. his throat burns with the metallic taste of his own tears, and the cold iron bars feel freezing against his palms

​he looks through the bars. you look up at the sound of his ragged breathing, your swollen eyes filling with a fresh wave of tears when you see him

​"sunghoon..." you sob, crawling toward the bars on your hands and knees, your weak fingers reaching through the gaps. "i'm scared. please... i didn't do anything. i swear i didn't use black magic. i just wanted to learn..."

​the modern sunghoon feels his soul literally breaking into a million pieces. he has never felt so utterly powerless in his entire existence. he’s the strongest commander in the kingdom, but he can't even unlock a stupid iron door to save the girl he loves

​he reaches his large, calloused hands through the iron bars, gently cupping your dirty, tear-stained face. his thumbs softly wipe away the fresh tears spilling over your cheeks, ignoring the way the cold iron bruises his wrists.

​"i know, i know, princess," sunghoon chokes out, his voice a broken, desperate sob as he leans his forehead against the freezing bars, staring into your eyes. "i’m so sorry. y/n, i am so incredibly sorry. i couldn't protect you... i failed you. please... please forgive me for being so useless. for every piece of pain i’ve ever caused you, in this life and every life after... i'm sorry."

​you lean into the warmth of his palms, closing your eyes as more tears spill over his fingers. even in the face of your own execution, you don't hold a single ounce of bitterness toward him

​"i forgive you," you whisper, your voice a fragile, beautiful thread in the dark dungeon. "i will always forgive you, sunghoon. don't look at me with such sad eyes... we promised, remember? under the stars. we will find each other again. i'll wait for you in the next life."

​"i'll find you," sunghoon promises, his heart breaking entirely as the loud, echoing sound of guards' boots starts to rumble down the stone corridor. "i swear on my soul, y/n, i will find you and i will hold onto you next time."

the violent jolt of electricity rips through his entire being, but strangely, this time sunghoon’s spirit doesn't get violently ejected from the body. he doesn't fly backward into a vortex of comfortable darkness

​he is still firmly locked inside the heavy, suffocating skin of the grandcommander

​the heavy iron latch of the dungeon doors rattles open, the sound echoing ominously down the damp stone corridor. sunghoon’s past body stands there, frozen, his hands still gripping the cold bars of your cell. a younger soldier, pale faced and trembling under the weight of his armor, steps into the dim torchlight, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor

​"commander," the soldier whispers, his voice shaking. "everything... everything is ready. the king and queen have ordered the procession. it’s time."

​sunghoon’s mind is spinning in pure, unadulterated panic. why am i still in here? jay! jay, get me out of here! he screams internally, trying to force his consciousness to detach, but nothing happens. his physical mouth, acting on a lifetime of rigid military discipline, simply lets out a low, hollow sound. "understood."

​the cell doors are unlocked, and two heavy handed guards drag your past self out into the corridor. you don't fight them, you're too weak, your frail frame shivering as the dirty linen of your white dress drags across the filthy stone floor. but as they pull you past him, your swollen, tear-filled eyes lock onto his face one last time

the transition from the dark, quiet bowels of the castle to the blinding light of the palace square happens too fast

​the air is thick, suffocatingly hot, and vibrating with the deafening, monstrous roar of a bloodthirsty crowd. hundreds of angry citizens are packed into the stone plaza, throwing rotten vegetables and rocks, their faces contorted into ugly, twisted masks of hatred. up on the high royal balcony, the king and queen sit on their lavish velvet thrones, looking down with cold, indifferent eyes

​"burn the witch!"

"she brought the plague upon our cattle!"

"spawn of the devil!"

​the screams tear through sunghoon’s ears like physical knives. his past body is forced to march forward, taking its place at the very front of the royal guard, directly facing the massive wooden stake constructed in the center of the square

​he watches in absolute, paralyzed horror as the guards roughly lift your small body up, binding your wrists and ankles to the heavy timber frames. you look so incredibly small against the massive wood. you look out into the crowd, your terrified gaze desperately searching until you find him standing there in his silver trimmed armor

​and then, a torch is dropped into the dry straw at your feet

​whoosh

​the flames erupt instantly, a roaring wall of bright orange and choking black smoke devouring the wooden stake

​sunghoon feels a physical sensation like a massive, clawed hand wrapping around his actual heart and squeezing it until it bursts. the sheer, unyielding agony of watching you, the girl he loved across centuries, the girl who just wanted to read books and hold his hand under the stars being consumed by fire is too much for his mind to handle. a silent, broken scream tears through his throat, but his past body remains frozen at attention, forced to watch the execution

​his knees buckle. the armor feels like it weighs a million pounds. his vision starts to fray at the edges, spinning into a dizzying kaleidoscope of fire and smoke until the entire world finally collapses into pitch blackness

gasp

​sunghoon’s eyes fly open, his chest heaving violently as he sucks in a massive breath of modern, humid city air

​the smell of burning wood and smoke is gone, instantly replaced by the familiar, synthetic scent of hospital bleach. he’s back. he’s sitting flat on his ass on the damp grass of the modern park, his hands trembling so violently he can barely press them against the ground to keep himself steady

​hot, heavy tears are streaming openly down his face, dripping off his sharp jawline and soaking into his modern black hoodie. he doesn't even care about his pride anymore. he buries his face in his hands, letting out a jagged, pathetic sob that echoes through the quiet midnight park

​"man, you really are a total crybaby," a smooth, completely unbothered voice floats down from above

​sunghoon pulls his hands away from his face, his vision blurry with tears. jay is sitting casually on top of the concrete picnic table, his legs swinging back and forth. he’s holding a little strawberry milk carton, sipping lazily from a tiny plastic straw while watching sunghoon like he’s an entertaining movie

​"she... they burned her, jay," sunghoon chokes out, aggressively wiping his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, though the tears just keep coming. "i had to watch it, i had to feel it. i couldn't do anything, i was the grand commander and i couldn't even save her."

​jay takes a slow sip of his milk, letting out a soft, clicking sound with his tongue as he shakes his head. "yeah, well, history is messy like that. and honestly? you’re being completely dramatic. that was just lifetime number two. human history isn't a fairy tale, kid."

​sunghoon stands up on shaky legs, his head spinning from the residual emotional trauma of the dungeon. "i can't," he whispers, his voice cracking entirely as he stares at the glowing silver thread in his chest, which has only knit itself a tiny bit more. "jay, i don't think i can handle seeing her die again. i don't want to see her hurt it’s ripping my soul apart. i want to stop, let me just end it."

​jay stops swinging his legs. he lowers the milk carton, his sharp, dark eyes narrowing as a cold, dangerous aura instantly replaces his casual demeanor. the mocking smirk vanishes

​"you want to quit?" jay asks, his voice dropping into a lethal, low whisper that makes the air around them freeze. "sure, go ahead. the portal to your body is right there. i’ll just cancel the contract right now but let’s be entirely clear about what that means, park sunghoon."

​jay hops down from the table, landing silently in front of sunghoon, his shadow swallowing him whole

​"the second i delete this file, that wisp of silver thread in your chest snaps permanently. you will never see y/n again. she will finish her degree in europe, she will meet someone else, she will live her life, and when you both die, your souls will pass each other in the ether like complete strangers. you will erase thousands of years of devotion because you can't handle a little bit of pain. so go ahead, walk away."

​sunghoon stands frozen, the words hitting him like physical blows

​strangers across eternity

​the thought of you forgetting him, the thought of never seeing your smile, never hearing your voice, never having the right to hold your hand in any universe ever again hurts infinitely worse than the fire in the palace square. it’s a cold, hollow, terrifying kind of pain that shakes him to his very core

​he looks down at his hands, then closes them into tight fists. the frustration, the grief, and the fear melt down into a hard, unyielding desperation. he took you for granted in this life. he broke your heart for a girl who didn't even care about him. he deserved this torment. he needed to pay the price

​sunghoon raises his head, looking directly into the grim reaper’s ancient eyes. the tears are still wet on his cheeks, but his gaze is completely steady

​"no," sunghoon says, his voice losing its tremor, hardening with pure resolve. "i'm not giving up."

​jay tilts his head, a faint, slow smirk creeping back onto his lips. "oh? changed your mind already?"

​"send me to the next one," sunghoon demands, stepping closer, his ghostly form radiating a frantic, manic energy. "i don't care if it’s worse, i don't care if it destroys me. i'll watch whatever i have to watch, and i'll take whatever punishment you have. just send me back i'm going to fix our thread."

​jay lets out a low, amused chuckle, throwing the empty milk carton into a nearby trash can with perfect accuracy.

"the next one is going to be way more interesting, honestly," jay says, a little glint of amusement in his eyes as he plays with the stray strings of his hoodie. "not quite as terrifying as getting torched in a public square. well... maybe. depends on how you look at it."

​sunghoon just lets out a heavy, exhausted sigh, dropping his chin to his chest. his whole body feels drained, the phantom smell of smoke still clinging to the edges of his mind. he shuts his eyes tight, trying to brace himself for the impact of another world, another heartbreak

when he tilts his head back up, the humid night air of the hospital park is completely gone

​there’s no violent jolt this time. the transition is smooth, almost elegant, like a watercolor painting bleeding into a new canvas. sunghoon blinks, realizing he’s standing inside a massive, sun-drenched bedroom. the architecture screams the height of the renaissance era. intricate wooden carvings on a giant four poster bed, thick velvet curtains in rich burgundy blocking out the midday sun, and beautiful, fresh oil paintings drying on easels in the corner. everything feels deeply tied to art and beauty, the whole atmosphere dripping with wealth and culture

​"looks like we spawned in your old room," jay murmurs, casually leaning his back against a massive marble fireplace, looking completely unbothered by the sudden shift in centuries. "not a bad setup, honestly. you were loaded."

​before sunghoon can even take a step to examine the room, the heavy muffled sound of angry shouting drifts up through the floorboards. it’s coming from the grand parlor downstairs

​jay tilts his head toward the door, a faint smirk returning to his face. "sounds like a family meeting. let’s go eavesdrop."

​the two spirits glide through the solid wooden door and descend the sweeping marble staircase. down in the parlor, a young version of sunghoon is standing stiffly in the center of the room, dressed in tailored, expensive renaissance garments. his expression is completely frozen, his jaw clenched as an older, aristocratic man and a woman draped in silk pace around him, their voices dripping with absolute fury

​sunghoon and jay stand in the corner, blending into the shadows as they listen to the argument

​"you have a duty to this family, sunghoon!" his past father roars, slamming a heavy ringed hand onto a mahogany table. "she is the daughter of a duke! the alliance is perfect! you cannot keep turning these offers down!"

​"i don't care about the alliance," the past sunghoon says, his voice quiet but incredibly stubborn, his gaze fixed firmly on the floor. "i will not marry someone i do not love."

​standing in the shadows, the ghostly sunghoon watches his past self with a strange mix of pride and frustration. jay lets out a soft, mocking chuckle right next to his ear, crossing his arms. "man, the you in this life was kind of an idiot, wasn't he? that’s literally the third arrangement he’s turned down. total hopeless romantic. he was actively ruining his family name for a girl he hadn't even met properly yet."

​before the argument downstairs can escalate any further, jay casually claps his hands together once

​crack

​the sound echoes like a gunshot through the room, and the angry voices of his parents instantly melt away. the dark parlor expands, exploding into a blinding sea of golden light, classical violin music, and the low, elegant chatter of hundreds of wealthy guests

​they are suddenly standing right in the middle of a lavish, decadent wedding reception. crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, and tables are overflowing with expensive wine and exotic fruits

​and right in front of them, standing at the center of the ballroom, are the past sunghoon and y/n

​sunghoon completely loses his breath, his eyes locking onto you. you are wearing a breathtaking, cream colored satin gown embroidered with delicate silver threads that catch the candlelight every time you move. your hair is intricately braided, and you look so completely radiant, so stunningly beautiful, that the ghostly sunghoon entirely freezes in his tracks. his mind goes totally blank. he just stares, his chest aching with a sudden, overwhelming surge of love and longing

​he’s completely stuck, entirely hypnotized by the sight of you laughing at something his past self whispered in your ear

​"hey, space cadet, stop drooling," jay grunts, reaching out and roughly yanking sunghoon backward by the arm before he can try to touch you. "we don't have time for you to stare. let's move it."

​with that harsh tug, the bustling wedding ballroom blurs into a streak of gold and white. the loud music fades, replaced by the gentle chirping of cicadas and the soft, cool breeze of a late evening

​when the world settles, they are standing in a manicured, private garden attached to a massive villa. the past sunghoon and you are sitting together on a stone bench under a canopy of blooming white roses. you’re leaning your head against his shoulder, your fingers intertwined with his. the atmosphere is peaceful, dripping with an domestic warmth that sunghoon hasn't felt in a very long time

​"i still can't believe your father finally gave in," you murmur softly, a gentle smile playing on your lips as you look out over the dark garden

​"he didn't have a choice," the past sunghoon replies, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "i told him i’d leave the estate completely if i couldn't have you. i just want a quiet life, y/n. a happy, harmonious family with you. that’s all i’ve ever wanted."

​watching them, the ghostly sunghoon feels a sudden ray of hope flare up in his chest. a huge, relieved smile spreads across his face. there's no tragedy here, he thinks frantically, his heart beating fast. we actually made it. we got married, we’re happy, there are no executioners or wars.

"jay, look!" sunghoon whispers excitedly, turning to the reaper. "there's no test here! we're actually fine in this one!"

​jay just lets out a low, dark chuckle, a look of profound pity crossing his sharp features. "man, you really are naive, aren't you?" jay raises a single finger, pointing toward a smaller, dark structure at the edge of the estate. "you forgot who i am, assistant. death always collects."

​jay flicks his wrist, and the beautiful, moonlit rose garden instantly rots away. the sweet smell of flowers transitions into the sharp, sickeningly familiar scent of herbal medicines, damp sheets, and cold sweat

​they are back in the massive bedroom from before, but the sun is completely gone, replaced by a single, flickering candle on the nightstand

​lying in the center of the giant bed is the past sunghoon but he looks completely unrecognizable. the broad-shouldered, strong young man from the garden has shrunk, his body frail, gaunt, and completely drained of life. his skin is a sickly, pale gray, his breathing coming out in shallow, rattling gasps. an epidemic had swept through the city, and his wealth couldn't save him

​kneeling right by the bedside, clutching his cold, trembling hand against her cheek, is you. you are sobbing uncontrollably, your shoulders shaking as your tears soak into the linen sheets

​"you can't leave me," you weep, your voice a broken, desperate mess. "sunghoon, please... we were supposed to grow old here. you promised me a quiet life, please don't go."

​"i'll... i'll find you again," the dying sunghoon gasps out, his voice incredibly weak, his eyes struggling to stay open as he stares at your face. "i promise... i'll look for you in the next world..."

​"he’s flatlining, intern," jay’s voice cuts through the heartbreaking room, sharp and urgent. "get in there before his soul detaches, you have less than a minute."

​sunghoon doesn't even think. the pure agony of seeing you cry over his dying body pushes him forward, and he throws his spirit straight into the frail, cold physical form on the bed

​the moment his consciousness hooks into the body, a suffocating, crushing weight slams into his chest. he can barely breathe. every single gasp feels like inhaling liquid fire, his lungs completely failing him. his throat feels tight, dry, and absolutely paralyzed

​but looking at you kneeling there, your face completely ruined by grief, he forces his weak, trembling fingers to squeeze yours back

​"y/n..." sunghoon chokes out, his voice a raspy, breathless whisper

​you gasp, looking up through your thick veil of tears, locking eyes with him. "sunghoon? oh my god, sunghoon, stay with me, please—"

​"i'm sorry," he interrupts, his voice breaking as the suffocating pressure in his chest tightens, stealing his oxygen. he can feel his life slipping away by the second, the coldness creeping up his limbs. "y/n... i am so sorry for everything... for breaking my promises... for leaving you alone like this. please... please forgive me."

​you shake your head frantically, pressing his weak hand against your lips, kissing his knuckles as your tears stream down his skin. "there's nothing to forgive! i love you, i will always love you! please just don't close your eyes!"

​"i'm sorry..." sunghoon whispers one last time, a tear finally escaping his own eye, rolling down his pale cheek.

​with that final apology, the last bit of air leaves his lungs. his heart gives one final, weak shudder before completely stopping.

​the moment his physical eyes glaze over, you let out a blood-curdling, agonizing scream of pure grief, a sound so loud and full of despair that it vibrates through the entire room

​boom

​the sheer force of your heartbreak, combined with the sudden death of the body, violently rejects sunghoon’s spirit. he is forcibly slammed backward, ripped right out of the physical flesh with a terrifying velocity. the bedroom, the candles, and your heartbreaking screams instantly dissolve into a roaring vortex of wind, spinning him around in total darkness until his feet violently connect with something solid

​gasp

​sunghoon hits the ground hard, tumbling onto the damp grass of the modern hospital park. his chest is heaving as he frantically sucks in the clean night air, his hands clutching at his shirt right over his heart. the agonizing suffocation of the sickness is gone, but his soul feels completely shattered, his mind still echoing with that final, devastating scream you let out over his corpse

"the next one is officially the worst," jay says, his voice losing every single ounce of its usual sarcastic bite. he lets out a low, heavy breath, looking at sunghoon with a level of dead seriousness that makes the cold air in the park feel even more suffocating. "it's the most tragic out of all of them, honestly. you need to actually pull yourself together for this one, park. if your mental state fractures, we're done."

​sunghoon takes a ragged breath, pressing the palms of his hands against his knees to stop the violent shaking. his soul still feels entirely bruised from hearing that final, echoing scream in the renaissance bedroom, but he forces his jaw to clench. "i'm fine. i can handle it, just send me."

​jay stares at him for a long, quiet beat, checking for any signs of bluffing. finally, he sighs and gestures to the empty space on the concrete bench right next to him. "just calm down for a second. relax your shoulders. sit down."

​sunghoon reluctantly slides onto the cold stone bench, his chest heaving. "now what?"

​"now, close your eyes," jay instructs softly.

​the second sunghoon’s eyelids flutter shut, the distant sound of city traffic completely dies out

​when he opens his eyes a fraction of a second later, the transition is incredibly jarring. the hard concrete bench is gone. instead, he’s sitting on a rough, weathered wooden bench right at the edge of a bustling, dusty dirt road. the air instantly hits his nose, the sharp, pungent scent of fermented radishes, dried fish, fresh straw, and the smoky haze of wood burning stoves

​everywhere he looks, people are moving around in traditional, vibrant hanboks. heavy wooden carts pulled by oxen are rattling past, and merchants are loudly shouting out their prices for silk fabrics and clay pots

​"joseon era," sunghoon mutters, blinking rapidly as his modern sneakers rest in the dirt. he looks down at his own casual clothes, then looks around the busy marketplace. "wait... am i like, a poor peasant or something in this life? why are we spawning near a crowded market?"

​jay, who is casually leaning against a nearby wooden pillar with his arms crossed, lets out a dry, mocking laugh. "peasant? you wish. look over there across the square. see that incredibly annoying guy surrounded by a literal horde of women?"

​sunghoon blinks, shifting his gaze toward a large silk merchant's stall

​standing in the center of a giggling, blushing crowd of young noblewomen is a young man dressed in an incredibly expensive, pristine royal blue banyongpo. he’s holding a hand painted paper fan, tilting his head with an effortlessly smooth, devastatingly handsome smirk as he delivers a smooth comment to a girl who looks like she’s about to faint

sunghoon’s jaw drops. it’s him

​and just like that, despite the absolute trauma of the last three timelines, sunghoon’s massive, modern day ego instantly flares back to life. a smug, satisfied smirk crawls onto his face. "well... can you really blame them? i mean, look at me. even in ancient history, the face card never declines. i was a total visual."

​jay looks like he wants to violently throw himself into the nearest river. he rolls his eyes so hard it looks painful, letting out a heavy, disgusted groan. "oh my god, shut up. this is exactly why the universe punished you. you were famously known for being breathtakingly handsome in this era, yes, but you were also a certified, arrogant prick. you walked around like you owned the entire peninsula."

​jay grabs sunghoon’s shoulder, dragging his spirit away from the crowded market square and leading him down a quieter, winding alleyway lined with beautiful, weeping willow trees. they stop right in front of a grand, multi-storied building decorated with bright silk lanterns and beautiful wooden screens. the faint, elegant sound of a gayageum plucking a slow melody drifts through the air

​"a courtesan house?" sunghoon asks, raising an eyebrow

​"just watch," jay murmurs, pointing through the open wooden shatters of a private upper room

​sitting on a silk cushion, pouring hot tea into a delicate porcelain cup, is a woman. her back is turned to them, her long, glossy dark hair braided perfectly down her back with a rich crimson ribbon. even just from the silhouette of her shoulders and the elegant, graceful slope of her neck, she looks stunning

​then, she turns her head slightly to order a servant away

​sunghoon’s heart stops

​you look absolutely ethereal in a pale pink chima and a white jeogori, your sharp, expressive eyes piercing right through the room

​"she was the most famous woman in the district," jay explains quietly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "incredibly beautiful, but notoriously fierce and sharp-tongued. she absolutely detested arrogant, smooth-talking noblemen, and she had zero patience for men who lacked substance. basically... she was your worst nightmare, which made you completely obsessed with her."

​sunghoon feels a sudden, intense wave of curiosity washing over him. "how did we even start talking? jay, fast forward it. i want to see how i managed to win her over if she hated me so much."

​"fine, but don't blink," jay says.

​suddenly, a sharp gust of wind sweeps through the courtyard, sending a stray, crisp green willow leaf flying straight toward sunghoon’s face. he instinctively raises his hand, brushing the leaf away from his eyes

​by the time his hand drops, the scenery has completely shifted. the bright daylight has faded into a deep, hazy twilight

​they are now inside a secluded, private pavilion surrounded by blooming lotus ponds. and right there, leaning against the wooden railing, are the past sunghoon and you but you aren't fighting. in fact, the past sunghoon is leaning in incredibly close, his fingers gently brushing against your jawline, his eyes dripping with a smooth, heavy flirtatiousness

​you’re smirking back, your eyes locked onto his lips, delivering a sharp, witty comeback that makes him let out a low, breathy laugh. and before the modern sunghoon can even process the dialogue, his past self lunges forward, pulling you flush against his chest and burying his lips into yours in a deep, intensely passionate kiss. your hands instantly tangle into the fabric of his expensive robes, pulling him closer

​standing a few feet away, jay’s face immediately contorts into total disgust. "okay, nope. we are moving past this. i am not watching this."

​"wait, wait! jay, don't!" sunghoon yells frantically, his eyes wide as he tries to swat jay's hand away from the portal. "don't fast-forward yet! let me watch for a second! i haven't seen her like this, let me just look at her—"

​smack

​"ow!" sunghoon yelps, clutching the back of his head where jay had just delivered a firm, unbothered slap

​"you are a literal pervert, park," jay groans, his expression completely judging him. "we are here to save your soul bond, not watch your past self's romance tape. move your head."

​when sunghoon looks back up, rubbing his sore skull, the lotus pond is gone

​now, they are standing in a hidden, quiet courtyard behind a massive estate. the sun is shining brightly, and the air is filled with the sharp, rhythmic clack-clack of wooden practice swords hitting each other

​the past sunghoon is standing right behind you, his large hands wrapped securely over yours as he guides your grip on a wooden sword. he’s adjusting your stance, his chest pressed against your back, a massive, soft, genuinely happy smile on his face

you’re laughing hysterically every time you mess up a form, turning around to playfully poke him in the ribs with the blunt tip of the weapon. they look so incredibly light. so completely, hopelessly happy

​"enjoy it while it lasts," jay’s voice suddenly drops into that freezing, dark tone, cutting through the beautiful laughter like ice water. "because the tragedy is officially here."

​"no, wait, can't we just stay here for a minute?" sunghoon begs, his chest instantly tightening with an anxious, suffocating panic. "just let me watch us be happy for a little bit longer, jay, please—"

​smack

​jay slaps the back of his head one more time, completely ignoring his pleas. "open your eyes, assistant. look at what you actually did."

​the beautiful, sunny courtyard instantly dissolves into a suffocating, heavy gloom. the happy laughter is cut short, replaced by the sound of raw, agonizing, breathless sobbing

​sunghoon looks around, his heart sinking right into his stomach. they are inside a dark, secluded library room. standing in the corner, clutching you tightly against his chest like he’s trying to merge your bodies together, is the past sunghoon

​you are crying so hard you can barely draw a full breath, your small hands tightly bunching up the blue silk of his robes, your face buried in his shoulder as your whole body shivers with grief

​"i'm sorry... y/n, i am so sorry," the past sunghoon whispers, his own voice cracking completely, tears tracking down his handsome face. "the king... my father... he officially announced it to the court today. the royal decree has been signed. i am being forced into an arranged marriage with the princess of the neighboring province. the wedding is next week."

​standing in the shadows, the modern sunghoon’s spirit instantly erupts into pure, frantic rage. he turns around to jay, his face red, his fists clenched tight as he storms up to the reaper

​"are you kidding me?!" sunghoon roars, gesturing wildly at the crying couple. "why does this keep happening?! a princess?! how beautiful could this stupid princess even be that my parents are completely ruining our lives for her?! i don't want to marry her! why am i doing this?!"

​jay just stands there, completely bewildered, raising his eyebrows at sunghoon’s sudden outburst. "bro, why the hell are you yelling at me? i didn't arrange the marriage. blame your ancient joseon parents, not the grim reaper. also, she's a princess, it’s about land and power, not a beauty pageant. stop shouting."

​sunghoon’s chest is heaving with anger and heartbreak, his eyes darting back to your sobbing form. the reality of the tragedy is setting in, and he can feel the heavy, magnetic pull of the timeline demanding him to step into the body

"this is where it gets really ugly," jay says, his voice losing every single ounce of its usual detached composure. he actually sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down at the dusty floorboards of the library. "even for a grim reaper... this part of your history is hard to watch. you need to brace yourself, park. seriously."

​sunghoon’s anger evaporates instantly, replaced by a cold, sickening dread that pools right in his stomach. he looks at your past self, still clinging to his robes, sobbing like her world is ending. he just nods numbly, swallowing the dry lump in his throat. "i told you. i'm not backing down."

​jay doesn't waste another second. he raises his hand

​click

​the dark, quiet library fractures instantly. the smooth smell of old books and your sweet floral scent are violently ripped away, replaced by the suffocating, metallic stench of fresh copper, wet mud, and the terrifying, heavy atmosphere of an execution ground

​sunghoon’s spirit stumbles as the world solidifies. they are standing in the massive stone courtyard of the royal palace under a dark, weeping gray sky. hundreds of soldiers in heavy iron armor form a tight, impenetrable wall around the perimeter, their spears held high. at the far end, sitting on elevated wooden thrones, the king and queen look down with expressions of absolute, chilling disgust

​and right there, in the dead center of the cold stone floor, you are on your knees

​sunghoon’s soul goes into a frantic, chaotic panic. your hands are tied tightly behind your back with thick hemp rope, your beautiful pink chima torn, dragged through the mud, and stained with dark crimson streaks. you look so fragile, so completely stripped of your usual fierce, sharp tongued energy

"jay! what is this?! what happened?!" sunghoon screams, his voice cracking as he tries to lunge toward you, but his ghostly hands pass right through the air. "we were just in the library! why is she on the floor?!"

​jay steps up beside him, his sharp eyes dark and unusually heavy with grim pity. "you two tried to run," he explains quietly, the wind whipping his modern black hoodie around his frame. "the night before the royal wedding, you abandoned your title, stole two horses, and tried to smuggle her out of the province. but the king’s scouts tracked you down at the border. and because you’re the beloved prince, the royal court couldn't execute you. so they put the entire blame on her. they claimed she was a seductress who bewitched the royal bloodline."

​before sunghoon can even digest the horror of jay's words, the booming, heartless voice of the king echoes across the courtyard, cutting through the heavy silence

​"prove your loyalty to this kingdom, prince sunghoon," the king commands, pointing a cold finger down at your kneeling form. "dispel the witch’s curse. do it now."

​sunghoon’s ghostly head whips around. walking slowly out from the ranks of the soldiers is his past self. the handsome face that sunghoon had been bragging about five minutes ago is completely dead, pale as a corpse, his eyes entirely blank and hollow. in his right hand, he is dragging a long, heavy steel sword, the tip of the blade scraping against the stone floor with a horrific, screeching sound

​screeech

​"no... no, no, no," sunghoon whispers, the past sunghoon closes the distance, his heavy boots thudding against the stone tiles. but instead of standing behind you like a heartless executioner, he suddenly drops his weight, his knees hitting the damp earth with a loud, desperate thud right in front of you

​you gasp, your eyes flying open as you look up through your tangled hair

​the past sunghoon is looking right into your eyes, his face completely pale and breaking into a million pieces. he’s crying, thick, heavy tears cutting through the grime on his cheeks. he repositions his hands on the hilt of the heavy steel sword, reverse-gripping it so the sharp tip is pointed directly at your chest, while the pommel aligns perfectly with his own abdomen

​the entire crowd of citizens and soldiers gasps in collective, paralyzed shock. the king stands up from his throne, screaming in fury

​blood instantly floods the stone floor, pouring from both of their bodies. his past self had chosen a double suicide. if the kingdom wouldn't let them live together, he was going to make sure they died together

​"intern, go! now!" jay’s voice barks like thunder, shattering the shock. "enter the body before her consciousness fades! do it!"

​sunghoon doesn't even feel the transition. he just hurls his spirit forward, slamming directly into the physical flesh of his past self

​gasp

​the absolute, unimaginable agony hits him like a physical tidal wave. sunghoon’s vision violently flashes red. it feels like a white-hot iron rod has been driven directly through his gut, his nerve endings screaming in pure, unadulterated torture. the taste of warm, thick copper immediately floods his mouth, choking him

​the long steel sword drives forward, piercing straight through the center of your chest, tearing through your heart, and bursting out from your back. but the momentum doesn't stop there. because he’s holding you so close, the remaining length of the steel blade drives straight backward, ripping through the past sunghoon's own stomach, skewering you both together in a brutal, tragic embrace

​your foreheads rest against each other, your blood mixing on the cold metal between you as the life rapidly drains from both of your eyes. they are face-to-face, locked together in death, refusing to let the timeline separate them

​his past self’s arms are losing strength rapidly, but with the very last ounce of his fading life, he leans forward. he presses his bloody lips against yours in a soft, desperate, lingering final kiss

​"i love you," the past sunghoon’s voice whispers inside his mind, a final, fading thought before the modern sunghoon takes full control of the vocal cords

​"y/n..." sunghoon chokes out, his voice a wet, ragged wheeze as blood spills over his lower lip. he tightens his grip on you, his tears mixing with the blood on your shoulder. "i'm sorry... i am so, so sorry. i couldn't get us out... i caused this. please... forgive me..."

​and through the absolute agony of death, a soft, incredibly sweet smile breaks across your bloody lips. it looks so beautiful it completely shatters his soul. you look as if you don't even feel the pain, as if being in his arms makes the execution entirely irrelevant

​"i forgive you..." you whisper, your voice a fragile, breathy sigh that fades into the howling wind. "always... sunghoon..."

​your eyes gently flutter shut, the moment your soul leaves, the final, crushing weight of the sword wound takes him too. his vision goes entirely black, his heart giving one final, agonizing thud against the steel blade before his spirit is violently repelled from the flesh

​gasp

​sunghoon’s eyes snap open

​the dark gray sky of joseon is gone. the smell of mud and blood is gone. he’s lying flat on his back on the damp grass of the modern hospital park, the bright neon lights of the city blurring into long, dizzying streaks above him

​he immediately rolls onto his side, curling into a tight, defensive fetal position, his hands clutching his stomach frantically. the physical wound isn't there, but the phantom pain of that steel blade feels completely real, a lingering, burning ache in his gut that makes him choke on his own breath

​sunghoon buries his face directly into the grass, letting out a loud, raw, unhinged sob. he cries so hard his entire body shakes violently, his fingers clawing at the dirt. the image of your sweet, bloody smile right before you died is burned into the back of his eyelids, torturing his mind

​"i told you it was going to be bad," jay’s quiet, serious voice floats down

​sunghoon pushes himself up onto his knees, his face entirely ruined by tears, his chest heaving in absolute desperation. he looks up at jay, who is standing quietly by the bench, his usual arrogant demeanor completely replaced by a solemn silence

​"jay, please," sunghoon begs, his voice cracking into a pathetic, broken whisper as he reaches out toward the reaper. "i can't do this anymore without seeing her. i need to see her, the real her. the modern y/n. please, just let me see her for one second, i'm begging you. i can't keep watching her die over and over again, it's killing me."

​jay lets out a long, slow breath, looking down at the glowing silver thread in sunghoon’s chest. it has knit itself together significantly now, pulsing with a much stronger, brighter light, though it's still missing the final pieces

​"dude, seriously, calm down and be patient," jay says, his tone softening just a fraction, a hint of his casual peer voice returning as he steps closer. "we are actively working on it right now. every single time you survive one of these timelines and get her forgiveness, you're literally stitching her back into your destiny. you think i’m doing this to torture you? we're halfway there, park. if you break down now, that sword through the chest was for absolutely nothing. so take a breath, we still have one more to fix."

"you want to keep going or what?" jay asks, shoving his hands deep into his hoodie pockets. he watches sunghoon drag himself up from the damp grass, looking like an absolute shell of a human being

​sunghoon crosses his arms, letting out a sharp, petulant huff as he fixes the reaper with a heavy glare. "no. i'm sick of this, jay. i don't want to see another tragedy. i just want to see her, the real her. let me just go to europe, let me look at her from a distance, literally anything but this."

​jay rolls his eyes, entirely unbothered by the little tantrum. "dude, trust me on this one. if you go to the next lifetime, you're definitely not gonna regret it. it's a change of pace, i promise."

​"yeah, right," sunghoon mutters, giving jay a massive, dramatic eye roll

​he shuts his eyes tight for a fraction of a second, expecting the usual dizzying vortex or the violent pull of time travel. but when his eyelids flutter open a moment later, there's no wind, there's no crash

​instead, he’s instantly hit by the overwhelming warmth of a crackling fireplace and the rich, expensive scent of polished mahogany, old money, and sweet vanilla. sunghoon blinks, looking down at his hands. they aren't see-through. he isn't a floating spirit this time, he’s completely locked into his past body from the get-go, feeling the physical weight of his own limbs. but when he glances toward the heavy velvet curtains by the window, jay is sitting right there on a leather armchair, blending into the shadows like a total creep

​sunghoon looks around the room, his jaw dropping a little. the house is absolutely massive, dripping in pure, unadulterated luxury. high ceilings, intricate gold molding, and plush patterned rugs that swallow his footsteps

​before he can even ask jay what era this is, two soft arms suddenly wrap securely around his waist from behind

​a tiny, contented sigh presses right into the middle of his back, the warmth of another body radiating straight through his clothes. sunghoon completely freezes, his heart doing a violent, chaotic flip in his chest. he slowly turns around in the embrace, and the breath is completely knocked right out of his lungs

​it’s you

​you are standing right there in a flowing, silk and lace nightgown that hits the floor perfectly. an absolute, breathtakingly beautiful sin of a sight. your hair is soft, cascading over your shoulders, and your skin glows under the warm candlelight. seeing you like this, looking so domestic and ethereal, hits sunghoon like a physical truck. it makes his soul ache with a desperate, burning longing for the modern y/n, the girl he left crying in a hospital room

​he glances down at himself, realizing he's wearing a perfectly tailored, incredibly expensive three piece suit. his coat is slightly unbuttoned, his tie loosened just a fraction. he feels exhausted, his shoulders heavy, like he just walked through the front door after a brutal, fourteen-hour workday

​"you're home late," you murmur softly, your sweet voice cutting through his internal monologue as you look up at him with pure affection. "have you eaten yet? i can have the servants warm up some dinner for you."

​sunghoon swallows hard, his eyes completely locked onto your face, trying to commit every single detail to his memory. "no... no, i don't want to eat. i just... i want to rest."

​"okay," you say gently, giving him a knowing, sympathetic smile as your hands slip from his waist. "you've been working so hard lately."

​sunghoon instinctively reaches out, his arms longing to pull you back into his chest, to just hold you and never let you go but he stops dead in his tracks

​waaaah

​the sudden, loud sound of a baby crying echoes sharply through the heavy wooden doors down the hall. your head instantly whips toward the noise, your motherly instincts kicking in immediately

​"oh, she's crying," you say quickly, a tiny hint of exhaustion bleeding into your beautiful features. "i'll be right back, honey. let me go check on her."

​you turn and quickly hurry out of the room, leaving sunghoon completely frozen in the middle of the massive parlor, his hands still hovering uselessly in the empty air.

​"welcome to the victorian era, intern," jay’s smooth voice floats over from the dark corner. the reaper stands up, brushing invisible dust off his jeans. "you're currently one of the most successful, filthy rich shipping magnates in the entire country. and if i remember the file correctly, you fell for her the absolute second you saw her. textbook love at first sight."

​jay walks over to a grand mahogany side table, pointing his pale finger at a heavy silver picture frame. sunghoon steps closer, his heart pounding against his ribs

​inside the frame is a beautiful wedding portrait of the two of them, looking unbelievably happy. right next to it is a painted family portrait. there's past sunghoon, you looking radiant in velvet, a little boy about four years old sitting proudly on a stool, and a tiny baby girl wrapped in lace blankets

​children. they had a family. a real, whole, beautiful life together

​before jay can even finish explaining the family tree, the heavy door clicks open again. you walk back into the room, smoothing down your silk nightgown, but you stop when you notice sunghoon staring intensely at the empty space next to the table.

​you blink, looking around the quiet room. "sunghoon? who were you just talking to?"

​sunghoon quickly glances to the side, but jay has already dissolved into thin air, leaving no trace behind. sunghoon clears his raspy throat, trying to play it cool. "oh... no one, darling. i just... i thought the telephone rang."

​he can't take the distance anymore. the sheer sight of you after three timelines of absolute horror is making his head spin. sunghoon takes two large steps forward, grabbing your waist and pulling you flush against him before dropping heavily onto the plush velvet sofa. he yanks you right down into his lap, winding his arms around you so tightly it’s like he’s trying to anchor his entire existence to your skin

​you let out a soft, surprised giggle, but you don't fight it. you just settle comfortably against his chest, looping one arm around his neck as you start casually yapping about your day. you talk about how the nanny struggled with the kids, how your son managed to paint all over the library floor, and how much you missed him while he was at the office

​sunghoon doesn't interrupt you once. he just listens to the sweet, rhythmic cadence of your voice, closing his eyes as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. he leans up, pressing his lips against yours in a deep, lingering, and completely desperate kiss. it feels so real. the warmth, the softness, the electric sparks shooting straight to his core. it feels exactly like kissing the modern y/n in his own timeline

​"alright, lovebirds, wrap it up," jay’s annoyed, disembodied voice groans loudly right next to his ear. "i'm literally gonna throw up. stop enjoying yourself and hit your cue, park. i'm sick of watching this."

​sunghoon flinches slightly, pulling back from the kiss just enough to look into your beautiful, clear eyes. the overwhelming guilt from his modern life rushes back into his chest, choking him

​"my love," sunghoon whispers, his voice thick with a sudden, heavy wave of emotion. "i'm sorry."

​you blink, a amused, slightly confused smile breaking across your lips. "sorry? for what, sunghoon? for coming home late? it's fine, you were at a business meeting—"

​"no, for everything," he cuts you off, his grip tightening around your waist as he stares at you with pure, raw sincerity. "for every single thing i've ever done wrong. for taking you for granted, for making you feel lonely, for every promise i ever messed up. i am so, so sorry. please forgive me."

​you let out a soft, airy laugh, reaching up to gently run your fingers through his dark hair, entirely amused by his sudden, random burst of dramatic emotion. "you're so silly tonight. of course i forgive you, even though you haven't done anything wrong. you're the best husband and the most wonderful father in the world, sunghoon. there's absolutely nothing to forgive."

​hearing those words, hearing that he was actually a good man to you in this life makes a warm, brilliant light explode right inside his chest. the relief is so intense he can barely breathe. he lets out a shaky laugh, wrapping his arms around you even tighter, burying his face in your hair as he shuts his eyes tight, wanting to just stay in this perfect, warm moment forever

"dude, get the hell off me! what is wrong with you?!"

​flick!

​a sharp, painful sting zaps right across sunghoon’s forehead, instantly shattering the beautiful victorian parlor

​sunghoon’s eyes snap open, and his stomach instantly drops. the velvet sofa is gone, the warm fireplace is gone. he is currently sitting on the grass in the modern hospital park, but his arms are wrapped completely around jay’s waist, his face pressed directly into the side of the reaper's black hoodie

​jay looks absolutely disgusted, using two fingers to aggressively push sunghoon’s head away as he dusts off his jacket like he just touched a biohazard. "get off! that is literally so foul. i don't do hugs, especially not from my interns."

​sunghoon scrambles backward into the dirt, rubbing his throbbing forehead, totally embarrassed but still buzzing from the sheer joy of the last life. a massive, desperate grin breaks across his face. "jay! did you see that?! we had kids! we were happy! please, just send me back to that one. let me do it again, i want to go back right now!"

​jay lets out a long, deeply exhausted groan, sliding off the concrete picnic table and rubbing his templates. "absolutely not. i am completely wiped out. do you even have any idea what time it is, park?"

​sunghoon blinks, looking around the dark park, then down at his hands. "what do you mean? it's still midnight, isn't it?"

​"human time? yeah, it's midnight," jay says, holding up his glowing digital ledger. "your little history tour just took a solid six months, assistant. we’ve been jumping through centuries for half a year."

​"six months?!" sunghoon screams, his jaw dropping in pure shock. six months. his body had been laying in that hospital bed for half a year. you had been in europe for half a year, thinking he was a lost cause. the realization hits him like a bucket of ice water

​"relax," jay says, a small, highly arrogant smirk creeping back onto his sharp face as he flips the screen of the ledger toward sunghoon. "look at the upside."

​sunghoon lowers his gaze to his own chest, and his breath instantly hitches

​the tiny, frayed, pathetic little wisp of silver thread is completely gone. in its place, a thick, beautifully woven, and brilliantly radiant silver cord is pulsing right over his heart. the light is incredibly blinding, solid, and perfectly knit together, humming with a powerful, ancient energy. the bond is completely restored

​"it's perfect," sunghoon whispers, his eyes tearing up again, but this time out of pure, unadulterated relief. "it's completely fixed."

​"yeah, yeah, congratulations, you're not single across eternity anymore," jay rolls his eyes, though there’s a faint hint of pride in his dark eyes. "your destiny with y/n is officially locked back in but don't celebrate just yet... because now comes the hardest part of the entire contract."

bonus: