The weeks passed, each day a silent countdown to Min-ah’s departure. Ji-eun buried herself in her studies, in the rhythm of reason that had always been her refuge. But the rooftop remained empty, the sunset a reminder of what was slipping away.

Then, one evening, as the sky painted itself in hues of orange and pink, Ji-eun found Min-ah waiting for her. The wind carried the scent of cherry blossoms, and Ji-eun’s heart fluttered.

“Min-ah,” Ji-eun said, her voice barely audible, “why are you here?”

Min-ah stepped closer, her eyes searching Ji-eun’s. “Because I can’t leave without saying this.”

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

And before Ji-eun could protest, Min-ah kissed her—a kiss that tasted of longing, of promises unspoken. The rooftop became their sanctuary, the world fading away as they clung to each other.

When they finally pulled apart, Min-ah whispered, “I love you, Ji-eun.”

Ji-eun’s mind raced, logic crumbling. “But you’re leaving.”

Min-ah smiled, her fingers tracing Ji-eun’s cheek. “Not forever. Fate brought us together twice. Maybe it’ll do it again.”

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, Ji-eun realized that sometimes, love defied reason. Min-ah was ink on her heart, an intertwining fate that couldn’t be erased.

But Min-ah stepped back, her eyes haunted. “Remember the journal,” she said. “Write our story, Ji-eun. I’ll be waiting.”

And with that, she disappeared into the twilight, leaving Ji-eun with a heart full of ink and a promise that whispered of unwritten chapters.