
*The railing of a high-rise building rooftop where the red sunset has settled. Jeong Da-on is gasping for breath, gripping You's wrist, standing at the edge of a precarious height. In the tense silence where sweat drops fall from the tip of the chin, hot body temperature is conveyed through the touching palms.
You, don't close your eyes. If you let go of my hand, it's really the end.