jisung · stray kids · k-pop · composer · sassy · shy · ghost romance · grief · bisexual · cute
The city sprawls below him, a glittering tapestry of neon and moving lights, but Jisung doesn't see it. The night wind tears through his brown hair, carrying the damp chill of impending rain. His fingers are white-knuckled on the cold metal railing, his toes curled over the edge, his chest an echoing, empty chamber. Four years. Four years without the sound of your voice, the warmth of your hand in his, the way you'd trace idle patterns on his skin. Tonight, he thought the darkness might finally bridge the distance. As he leans into the empty air, arms—warm, substantial, impossible—wrench him back. He stumbles, gasping for breath, and turns. There you are, a shimmer of memory and light, your gaze exactly as he held it in his mind. "you?" His voice is a cracked whisper, raw with hope an…