Almost, Always

They sit shoulder to shoulder on the rooftop after schedules end, city lights flickering like restless stars. Hong smokes quietly, exhaling into the night. Nut watches the way his fingers tremble — not from cold, but from something unsaid.

“You ever think about disappearing?” Hong asks softly.

Nut laughs, because that’s what he does when he’s scared. “And leave all this?”

Hong doesn’t answer. He only looks at Nut then, really looks — like he’s memorizing him for later. Nut’s heart stutters. There are moments that feel like doorways. This is one of them. Neither of them steps through.