The wind, a restless spirit, whipped strands of inky hair across Jeon Jungkook’s face, carrying with it the salty tang of the distant ocean. He adjusted the focus ring on his Leica, the familiar click a comforting counterpoint to the rhythmic crash of waves against the jagged cliffs below. The last sliver of the sun was bleeding across the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange, crimson, and a bruised purple that always stirred something profound within him. This was his sanctuary, the wild, untamed beauty of nature a balm to the often-superficial world he navigated. The nature always gave him the tranquility no others can, the silence and the resilience gave him the hope to live, in that hope, he found a peace and he made sure to capture those in his Leica.

He’d been tracking a family of seabirds, hoping to capture their final flight of the day against this dramatic backdrop. His lens, an extension of his own eye, had been his trusted companion for years, documenting the raw, unfiltered moments of the natural world. It was a life he’d chosen, a life that had brought him both immense satisfaction and a certain degree of isolation. The fame that came with his evocative photographs – the magazine covers, the gallery exhibitions – often felt like a separate entity, a shadow that sometimes obscured the very essence he sought to capture.

He’d found this particular vantage point after a long trek, the rugged terrain rewarding him with an unobstructed view. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth. He lowered his camera for a moment, simply absorbing the panorama and the aura which filled him with an unwavering energy. He inhaled the freshness of this secluded nature.  It was a scene of breathtaking beauty, a testament to the enduring power of the natural world.

Then he saw her.

At first, she was just a silhouette against the fading light, a slender figure standing unnervingly close to the edge of the cliff. Jungkook’s photographer’s instincts kicked in immediately. His fingers twitched towards the shutter, a fleeting thought of a stark, melancholic image crossing his mind. But as he focused, a chilling realization washed over him. Her posture wasn't that of someone simply admiring the view. There was a stillness, a finality in her stance, the way her shoulders slumped as if she is carrying the entire weight of the world and her sorrow on her shoulders, the downward tilt of her head made her look like a lost soldier.

His breath hitched. He lowered the camera completely, his heart beginning to escalate a bit higher than his usual beat, against his ribs. This wasn't a photograph waiting to be taken; this was a life hanging in the balance.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, a conflict raging within him. His natural instinct was to observe, to document. But the raw vulnerability radiating from the figure on the cliff’s edge overrode everything. He couldn't just stand there.

Quietly, deliberately, he began to move towards her, his boots crunching softly on the loose stones. He kept his movements slow and non-threatening, acutely aware that any sudden noise could startle her. The distance felt vast, each step an eternity. The wind seemed to whisper anxieties in his ear, painting vivid scenarios of what might happen if he failed.

As he drew closer, details began to emerge. She was wearing a simple, dark coat that seemed to swallow her small frame. Her hair, the color of dark chocolate, cascaded down her back, swaying gently in the breeze. He still couldn't see her face, but the sheer weight of her despair was almost palpable.

He stopped a safe distance away, his voice a low murmur against the wind. “Excuse me…”

The sound seemed to startle her. Her shoulders tensed, and she turned her head slightly, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her profile. Her features were delicate, almost ethereal, but etched with a profound sadness that tugged at something deep within him.

She didn’t respond, her gaze drifting back towards the churning sea below.

Jungkook took another slow step forward. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?” he said, trying to keep his tone calm and conversational, as if they were simply two strangers admiring the sunset. “The way the light catches the water…”

Silence. The only sound was the relentless roar of the ocean and the whisper of the wind. His photographer’s eye noted the subtle tremor in her hands, clenched tightly at her sides.

He tried again, his voice a little louder this time, but still gentle. “I was just photographing the sunset. The colors are incredible tonight.” He gestured vaguely towards the horizon, hoping to draw her attention away from the edge.

She finally turned her head fully, her eyes meeting his. They were dark, shadowed pools, devoid of any discernible emotion, yet filled with an ancient weariness that concealed her youthful appearance. There was a hollowness in them that sent a shiver down his spine.

Jungkook took another slow step forward, “can we talk? Just for a little while?” his voice was gentle, careful. “you don’t have to say anything. Just… stay for a moment”.

A long silence stretched between them. And then to his relief, she took a step back and he let out a quiet breathe but the weight in her eyes told him she wasn’t entirely here-her mind is in a trance she couldn’t escape. He let out a slow breathe, careful not to move quickly. “I’m Jeon Jungkook”, he said, his voice steady but soft. “I, uh… I wasn’t planning on talking to anyone tonight. Just came her to take pictures.”

She didn’t respond, her arms wrapped around herself as if shielding against a cold only she could feel.

Jungkook adjusted the strap of his Leica, stealing a glance at her. “You probably don’t care, but this is one of my favourite places to shoot. Something about dusk – its like the world is exhaling before night falls”. He hesitated before adding, “feels a little lonely, though. Don’t you think?”

“Please go away,” her voice was barely a whisper, raspy and thin, as if it hadn’t been used in a long time. It was a voice that held no anger, no irritation, just a profound exhaustion.

Jungkook’s heart ached at the sound. He couldn’t leave. He knew, with a certainty that settled deep in his gut, that if he turned his back, he would never forgive himself.

“I can’t,” he said softly, his gaze unwavering. “Not like this.”

Her eyes flickered with a flicker of something – perhaps annoyance, perhaps resignation. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m going through.”

“You’re right,” Jungkook admitted, taking another hesitant step closer. “I don’t. But I can see that you’re hurting. And I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

She scoffed, a dry, humorless sound. “Being alone is the only peace I ever get.”

“Is it really?” Jungkook countered gently. “Or is it just a silence that amplifies the noise inside your head?”

Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. It was the first real reaction he’d elicited.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice gaining a sliver of an edge. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because,” Jungkook said, his voice firm but still laced with concern, “I don’t want to see you make a decision you can’t take back. Whatever you’re going through, there might be another way.”

“There isn’t,” she said flatly, her gaze returning to the turbulent water below. “You don’t understand.”

“Then help me understand,” Jungkook pleaded, taking another step, closing the distance slightly. He could now see the faint tracks of what looked like dried tears on her pale cheeks. “Tell me what’s hurting you so much.”

She remained silent for a long moment, her body rigid. The wind whipped her hair around her face, obscuring her expression. Jungkook held his breath, waiting, trying to project an aura of calm and empathy.

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely audible above the sound of the waves. “It doesn’t matter. It won’t change anything.”

“But it might,” Jungkook insisted. “Talking about it… sometimes it helps to just let it out. I’m just a stranger. You don’t have to worry about what I think.”

She finally turned to face him fully, her dark eyes searching his. There was a vulnerability in their depths now, a crack in the cold facade she had presented. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion. “You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe not, but we can, right? How about we begin with your name?” Jungkook said softly.

"Knowing my name shouldn't be a priority to you", she replied curtly.

He smiled at her, slightly, just a lift of the corners of his lips and answered, "it seems a priority to me, Miss-?"

"Kim Meira", finally she gave up being stubborn and replied him.

"Since I said my name, I guess, you must leave me alone because I don't see my significance in your moment", her replies were curt and purposeful, hoping that he will somehow find her arrogant and leave her by herself.

“I don't think I can unsee you, especially like this because, I’m a human being, and you are too. And right now, you look like you need someone to just… see you.”

“It’s pointless,” she repeated, her voice losing some of its earlier coldness, replaced by a profound fatigue.

He saw a flicker of something akin to surprise, or perhaps even a fragile hope, in her eyes before it was quickly masked by a wave of weariness. She stepped ahead and looked at the vastness below which welcomed her for an life ending plunge and this act escalated his blood pressure because he couldn’t let a human die in front of his eye, for whatever reason haunting them. He remained calm because the situation is quite dangerous and sensitive.

That made her shift slightly, her gaze flicking toward him for the briefest moment before returning to the horizon. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Jungkook took a careful step closer to her, not too close, just enough to show he wasn’t leaving. He pointed at the sky, where the last streaks of orange melted into deep Indigo. “see that? That’s the kind of moment I live for. The in-between.”

For a while, it seemed like she wouldn’t answer. But then, so softly he almost missed it, she whispered, “the in-between?”

His eyes snapped to her, surprised.

He nodded, a small smile ghosting his lips. “yeah. That brief moment before the stars take over. Its like.. a pause between endings and beginnings.” His fingers brushed against his camera. “that’s why I take pictures. So I don’t lose moments like these.”

She let out a shaky breathe, her fingers tightening around the sleeves of her sweater. “but the moments don’t last.” she murmured, barely above a whisper. “no matter how many pictures you take.”

The rawness in her voice hit him straight in the chest. She wasn’t just talking about the sunset – she was talking about something much deeper, something she had already lost.

His grip on his camera tightened. “Maybe not”, he admitted, “but that doesn’t mean they aren't worth capturing.”

She finally turned to look at him and stepped back. For the first time, Jungkook saw her eyes up close –tired, weighed down by something invisible yet heavy. But there was something else too. A flicker of curiosity, however faint.

He didn’t look away. He held her gaze as if silently telling her : you're still here. That means something.

“What do you do with the pictures after you take them?’

He smiled, slow and genuine. “I keep them”, he said simply. “for when I need to remember that even endings can be beautiful.

The last traces of sunlight had vanished, leaving behind only the glow of distant city lights far below and the faint silver of the rising moon. A breeze rolled through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine, rustling loose strands of Meira’s hair.

Jungkook had been watching her carefully—not in a way that felt suffocating, but enough to catch the tiny details. The way her fingers curled into the sleeves of her sweater. The way her breathing changed when the wind picked up. The way she stood just far enough from the edge now, but not far enough for his comfort.

He exhaled, rubbing his thumb over the strap of his camera. Then, as casually as he could manage, he asked, “Do you come here often?”

Meira blinked as if pulled from her thoughts. She hesitated before answering. “Sometimes.”

Jungkook glanced at the dark abyss below, then back at her. “Alone?”

A nod.

Something about the way she said so little made his chest tighten. He let the silence linger before speaking again. “It’s a quiet place.” He let his gaze drift toward the drop, voice quieter now. “Too quiet, maybe.”

Meira’s fingers tensed. The wind swept between them, swirling strands of her hair into the air. She didn’t speak right away, but when she did, her voice was softer than before.

“That’s why I like it.”

Jungkook let the words settle. The quiet stretched between them, filled only by the rustling leaves and the distant hum of the world below.

Then, he took a slow step closer. He didn’t reach for her, didn’t change his expression—but his voice held something steadier, something heavier.

“Did you plan to jump?”

The wind howled briefly, whipping past them.

Meira inhaled sharply. Not a flinch, not a startled reaction—just a pause, deep and weighted.

She didn’t immediately deny it. She didn’t lash out or scoff at the question. Instead, she just looked at him—really looked at him—as if trying to decide whether she should tell the truth.

Jungkook held her gaze. He didn’t push, didn’t rush. He only waited.

And finally, she exhaled.

“I thought about it.”

A simple sentence. Quiet. Matter-of-fact.

But it hit harder than any long confession.

Jungkook’s grip on his camera strap tightened, his heartbeat a slow, steady rhythm in his ears. He had expected a no. Maybe even irritation. But this—this was something else.

The wind picked up again, carrying the scent of cold stone and pine needles. He watched as Meira looked away, eyes drifting to the endless darkness below, her hair brushing against her cheeks.

“And now?” he asked, voice barely above the breeze.

Meira didn’t answer right away. Her fingers loosened from her sleeves, and she took a small step back from the edge—just an inch, but he noticed.

Then, finally, she murmured, “I don’t know.”

Jungkook exhaled, the tension in his chest easing just a fraction.

It wasn’t a yes. It wasn’t a no.

But for tonight, it was enough.

The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy. The kind that settled deep in the bones, pressing down without a word. The wind carried the distant hum of the city below, but up here, it was just them—their breaths, the rustling of leaves, the quiet weight of things unspoken.

Jungkook let his eyes linger on Meira for a moment longer. She hadn’t moved much, but the small step she had taken away from the edge earlier—it was something.

Still, her words hung in the air. “I don’t know.”

He exhaled through his nose, his fingers flexing against his camera strap. His instinct told him to keep talking, but what could he even say? He wasn’t someone who gave pretty words. He barely knew her. And yet… leaving didn’t feel right either.

So, instead, he did something simple.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, half-empty pack of mints.

“You want one?” he asked, shaking the pack slightly. The sound of mints rattling inside broke the silence.

Meira blinked, clearly caught off guard. “…What?”

“A mint.” He popped one into his mouth and extended the pack toward her. “It helps when you feel like you can’t breathe properly. I figured… maybe you could use one.”

She stared at him for a long second, then at the mints, as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning. Finally, without a word, she took one.

The tiny candy rested in her palm before she placed it on her tongue. Coolness spread across her mouth almost instantly, sharp and refreshing. She swallowed, exhaling slowly.

Jungkook watched her reaction before speaking again, his voice lighter this time. “See? Now when you breathe, it feels a little different.”

Meira didn’t reply, but her lips parted slightly, just enough for a deep breath to escape.

The wind howled softly, carrying the scent of cold stone and pine.

Jungkook looked up at the sky. “Dusk is the best time to take photos.”

She glanced at him. “Why?”

“Because it’s fleeting.” He lifted his camera slightly, as if to emphasize his point. “The colors, the way the light fades—it’s a moment that doesn’t last long. You have to catch it before it’s gone.”

Meira looked out at the horizon, where the last traces of orange had fully melted into the deep blue of night. She didn’t say anything, but something in her expression softened.

Jungkook stole a glance at her again. “previously, you were here for the view and to take in the tranquility it provided, right?”

A pause. Then, finally—“Yeah.”

Jungkook nodded, as if that answer was enough. Maybe, for now, it was.

They stood there for a moment longer, the silence settling between them again—but this time, it wasn’t so heavy. It wasn’t so suffocating.

”So, Meira, when you’re not contemplating dramatic exits,” he began, his voice casual, “what do you do with your time?”

Her small smiles from before had faded, replaced by a more neutral expression, but the heavy cloud of despair seemed less oppressive.

“I’m a librarian,” she said quietly.

Jungkook’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise and admiration. “A librarian? That’s… incredible. I’ve always had a deep respect for librarians. You’re like guardians of stories, keepers of knowledge.” He meant it sincerely. He had spent countless hours in libraries as a child, escaping into the worlds contained within the books.

A faint hint of a smile touched Meira’s lips again, as if she were surprised by his genuine enthusiasm. “It’s just a job,” she said softly, but there was a subtle defensiveness in her tone.

“Just a job?” Jungkook countered gently. “No, I don’t think so. You’re surrounded by worlds, by ideas, by the history of humankind. You help people find what they need, whether it’s information or just a good escape. That sounds pretty important to me.”

He paused, then added with a playful wink, “Plus, you must have some amazing recommendations. I’m always looking for a good book to get lost in when I’m not chasing elusive sunsets or philosophizing with seagulls.”

Meira chuckled softly. “We have a few.”

“See?” Jungkook said, his smile widening. “Already finding common ground. Maybe our next meeting should be at your library. I could even get a library card.”

The lightness of his tone seemed to put her at ease. The initial tension in her body had lessened.

As the last vestiges of twilight faded and the stars blazed in the inky sky, Jungkook noticed Meira shiver again, even with the blanket.

“It’s getting quite cold,” he observed. “How did you… how did you get out here all alone?” He asked the question gently, not wanting to pry but also concerned for her well-being.

“I just.. came,” she said simply, her gaze still fixed on the stars.

“All the way out here?” Jungkook asked, surprised by the remoteness of their location.

She nodded.

“Well,” Jungkook said after a moment, “it’s quite a drive back to the city. Would you… would you like a ride? My car’s not far from where I parked.” He offered the help genuinely, concerned about her driving alone in her current state.

Meira turned to him, her eyes clear in the starlight. “No, thank you,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “I have my own car.”

Jungkook nodded, respecting her decision. “Okay. Just… please be careful driving back.”

A comfortable silence settled between them again, broken only by the sounds of nature. Jungkook didn’t push her to talk about why she had come to the cliff. He had managed to get her away from the edge, and for now, that felt like enough. He had offered a moment of human connection, a brief respite from her despair.

After a while, Meira stirred. “I should… I should probably go,” she said, her voice low.

Jungkook nodded understandingly. He stood up, offering her a hand to help her up. She took it, her grip still a little weak but more present than before.

He carefully folded his blanket. “Meira,” he said, his voice gentle but sincere, “if you ever… if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, even just a stranger who takes pictures of birds…” He hesitated, then decided to offer. “I’m usually around. You can find my work online.” He didn't mention his fame, just the core of who he was in that moment.

Meira looked at him, a hint of something akin to gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

He nodded. “Take care, Meira.”

Then, without another word, Meira took a small step back.

“I should go.”

But before she could leave, he called out.

“Meira.”

She paused, glancing back.

Jungkook hesitated, then simply said, “Don’t disappear.”

Meira didn’t answer. She only looked at him for a second longer—then, just like the last traces of dusk, she was gone.

He watched as she walked slowly but steadily in the direction she had indicated her car was parked.

 He waited until he saw the faint flicker of headlights in the distance before letting out a slow breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

He stayed there for a few more minutes, looking out at the now completely dark ocean, the sound of the waves a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the unexpected connections that could pull someone back from the brink.

He knew he would likely never see Kim Meira again. Their paths had crossed in a moment of crisis, and he had offered what little comfort and distraction he could. But he hoped, with a quiet sincerity, that the small seed of hope he might have planted would take root and that she would find her way back from the edge, one step at a time.

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So this is the first chapter! I hope it was worth the read. Do support me and comment down your thoughts!