he wished the saying was true. that one's heart stops beating once the body stops breathing. 

it's funny how ghosts are supposed to be invisible, but there he stood with his back against the pillar that blocked her view of him. he couldn't risk being seen— not in this state. 

once again, he questioned himself harshly for being careless and venturing too near. but he had wanted to see her again, and she really wasn't kidding when she said she shone like a beacon to ghosts. when he had first woken up, everything was so confusing, dark, and terrible that he nearly gave in to the abyss of infinity. then, he saw her. saw her form that practically glowed in the darkness, latched onto it and broke free of the insanity.

and his heart broke a little whenever he saw her fragile self.

running away from soyou had took all of his willpower. seeing her break down in eunseo's arms drew a large gash in his heart, ripped off all of his determination, had him begging on his knees. no tears came, of course, but he would have been sobbing his heart out if he could. nothing really hurts more than not being able to cry when you're so bottled up with sadness. 

if anything, ghosts' hearts beat with more passion than that of the living. because they have something they want ; something they had left behind with the living. be it someone they miss, someone they left behind unintentionally, or tasks they have not yet completed. 

jeongguk's heart never once stopped beating. as long as soyou was still there, he would never be able to leave. to move on.

he missed her. like how a drowning man misses the land, like how one tries to grasp at the remnants of a dream. and there was nothing he could do about it. there was no way he could go back to her in this state— he's a dead man. she, on the other hand, had a bright future ahead of her.   

so when it was time to leave, 

he left.