Sunghoon

The helicopter waited on the rooftop, but she didn’t move. Sunghoon adjusted the strap of his briefcase, his wound still fresh. He knew he should leave, but his feet wouldn’t move. “That’s it? Really?” she asked, frustration and pain in her voice, as if she couldn’t believe what was happening. “You’re just leaving like that?” Sunghoon looked down, his steely facade on the verge of breaking. “There’s nothing else to say,” he replied, trying to sound cold, but the tension was evident in every word. “Really? You’re not going to say that this means something?” she insisted, moving closer, unable to let him go so easily. He turned just barely, enough for their eyes to meet. —It means everything… and that’s why I’m leaving. She dropped her arms, as if those words were a blow she hadn't expected. —Then stay as something more. I'm not just a mission, Sunghoon. He took a step back, his voice dropping to a whisper. —If I stay, I'll be your weakness. And you can't afford one.

The wind blew hard on the terrace, the city lights flickering like distant stars. Sunghoon leaned against the railing, staring at the horizon, as if he could find an answer in the void. She watched him from the doorway, her heart racing, knowing this moment was coming.

"Are you just going to leave without saying anything else?" she asked, her voice shaking, though she tried to remain firm.

Sunghoon didn't look at her, but his hands shook as he adjusted his briefcase. It wasn't because of the wound, it wasn't because of the mission. It was because of her.

"I can't stay," he replied, his tone low but clear. "It would be a risk for both of us."

She took a step towards him, unable to stop herself. The words she wanted to say caught in her throat.

“What if you stay?” he insisted, his voice full of hope.

Sunghoon turned slowly, finally looking at her, as if there was no other option. —If I stay… I would lose everything I am.