By Asiyah Sultana

The threat of danger could never be enough to deny yourself a moment of such intense feeling. And god, are you feeling.


Hushed whispers bounce off the walls of a pitch-black stairwell.

He silently curses himself as he recounts the conversation that led him here. Rooftopping —  the unsecured climbing of tall structures — is popular in his circle. His friends urged him to come along on their latest excursion, and he reluctantly followed them through the city to this dark, blocked-off stairwell.

His parents’ warnings to not try anything stupid blare through his mind.

Only when the group ascends the staircase does an unfamiliar feeling buzz under his skin.

They emerge through the doorway, surging past the No Roof Access sign and into fresh air. He feels a rush of adrenaline explode in his chest.

When he perches on the edge alongside the others, he lets his legs hover over open air. He can’t resist pulling out his phone to snap a picture of this moment, with the lower half of his body backdropped by the entire city.

* * *

You scoff immediately after you open the message. It’s a photo of your brother’s sneaker-clad foot, dangling above rows of buildings dotting Atlanta’s sunlit skyline: a sight equally as terrifying as it is gorgeous.

You shoot him a scolding text.

this is what ur up to in ur free time?

my friends idea. not mine, he writes back in defense.

still dumb that u went along.


yeah, ik. Two minutes later: it was kinda fun tho.

You roll your eyes. You can’t fathom what would be appealing about putting oneself in danger for what, a moment of adrenaline? Fun?

You are still appalled by his photo later that night as your friends drag you out of your room for a party. You are prepared to follow the routine you are all too used to, half-conscious mingling with strangers you will soon forget. It is not exciting, but it is familiar and easy and that has always been enough for you.

Your usual night of mundanity is derailed when you spot her for the first time.

She is all bright eyes and dark hair and gold jewelry, five-foot-five inches of glitter and mystery. You find yourself pulled in the direction of this alluring stranger.

The two of you strike up a conversation. Something about the way she talks with vague answers and intense eye contact is unnerving. Shockingly, you don’t shy away.

You skip home eagerly that night. The next morning, you call your friend the second she wakes up to bombard her with questions — hey, have you met this girl before? What do you know about her? What is she like?

“My friend knows one of her exes. Apparently, she left him out of nowhere. She has a reputation for that: hurting people.”

Oh. That information barely makes a dent in your daze.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“Okay, okay.”

“I’m serious. It’s not worth it. Girls like her — don’t even bother. You could get seriously hurt.”

* * *

Any fear of getting hurt dissipates as he toes dangerously close to the edge. He knows now to enjoy the disorientation. It’s not a sign of weakness but rather a reminder that he is alive, pushing his body beyond the bounds of comfort or rationality.

From up here, the sparkle of the skyline blends into moonlight that filters through gaps between buildings. The buzz of Atlanta persists below, but it is muted from this height, a fuzzy, faraway tune. His sneakers separate so he can peer at the blur of motion drawn out below him. The streets are rows of bokeh dots, coral and teal like jewels.

He snorts remembering his initial anxiety. The sight splayed out before him is priceless — night sky billowed out over buildings, starlight swallowing cloud wisps — but the best part of this adventure is the feeling of floating. Towering over the city gives him the illusion that he’s superhuman, untouchable, and above humanity.

Now that he knows what it feels like, he can’t fathom missing out because of fear.

The threat of danger could never be enough to deny a moment of such intense feeling.

* * *

And god, are you feeling. When she presses her lips to yours for the first time, you ignore every warning sign.

The questions you refused to confront nag at you. What happens next? How long will this last? How badly will it hurt when this ends?

Maybe it would be wiser to pull away now, but you are warm with adoration, thrill, and euphoria. Every emotion is intensified tenfold by her. If you let your fears prevail and shut this down now, you may live the rest of your life never knowing just how passionately you can feel.

Instead, you deepen the kiss.

When your lips finally part, she mutters, “We shouldn’t do this.”

You nod. The words feel fragile under the thickness of electrified air. Gazes lock, mischievous and challenging, and you both already know this will keep happening.

Every preconception you had about romance — that it meant stability and longevity — has been thrown out the window.

Right now, you know for certain that you are in love. Not because it feels safe, or because it makes sense, or because it fits into your rules — but because you feel it in your bones. You are dizzy with it.

Instead of letting rationality win, you refuse to give this up. You will keep writing love stories that the world will never see. You will meet her at midnight and hold her close as she lists every reason she cannot introduce you to her family. You will continue to lie to yourself that it is a race to whoever leaves first, knowing subconsciously that it will never be you.

* * *

Just like that, it almost ends. The last time he rooftops in Atlanta brings all the same stimulation — until he missteps.

A broken security camera and a fire exit stairwell had allowed easy access into the closed-off rooftop. When he kneels by the edge to document his achievement, the same burning excitement rushes through him. He is acutely aware that this hobby is against his own better judgment, but it doesn’t matter right now. Nothing can break him.

At least, that’s what he thinks. But then his foot slips and he staggers. For a second, white-hot panic slides through his flailing body, and his hands grasp at air. Crisscrossing roads looming a hundred feet below fill his vision, and he prays that is not his fate. He pinwheels his arms and swivels his legs, catching himself just in time.

He sinks to his knees in relief, inches from the edge of the roof, and begins to laugh.

* * *

You’re not as lucky.

That morning comes sooner than you anticipated, the one where you wake up next to an empty indent in bed.

Sunlight filters through the curtains and pokes at your eyelids, a gentle wake-up call. You don’t open them just yet. You can already sense that something feels different, and discomfort is hot and prickly in your stomach.

When you finally sit up, your fears are confirmed. You reach for your phone and see a new text under her name. Even without reading it, you know what the message says. You knew it yesterday — six months ago — didn’t you?

You drag yourself to the window and press your head to the glass. Tears slip onto the windowpane as you stare at the sidewalk outside.

How many hours has it been since she wandered away? How could this happen?

Your body is wracked with sobs.

But of course this happened. You sift through the conversations in your head. You remember all the times your friends warned you, each doubt you pushed away for the sake of enjoying the moment.

The aftermath is tragic, but not unexpected.

You want to curse yourself for letting this happen. Perhaps your friends were right all along, perhaps none of the moments were worth the excruciating pain you are suffering through now.

Two weeks later, the memory of that first kiss comes back to you in a dream. You don’t feel an inch of regret, only the excitement of the moment. You had giggled into nervous lips and felt your stomach tumble with nerves; she warned you it wasn’t a good idea, but still you indulged.

Without her, you may have never realized how honestly you could love someone. It hits you then: you would relive it all a thousand times more if given the option.

Rationality will never outweigh passion.

From the moment you felt yourself falling, you had welcomed your fate. You knew no safety net would catch you, yet you did not shy away from the ending.

You did not survive, but you lived. ■