Hello, Sidney ( ) Kim Taehyung ()

hello, sidney (안녕 시드니) – kim taehyung (김태형)

✧.* 18+

fear was a shadow that clung to you, wrapping itself around your thoughts like a fog you couldn't escape. it wasn't just a fleeting sensation but a relentless presence, weaving itself into the fabric of your mind, dulling your senses, and sharpening the unknown into something monstrous. every creak of the floor, every whisper of wind against the window, sent your heart racing, as if the air itself had conspired against you. you felt it deep in your bones—a cold, gnawing dread that eroded your confidence, leaving you hollow and trembling.

in the stillness of the night, when the world seemed to hold its breath, fear became a living entity, whispering your doubts back to you, feeding on the silence. it was in those moments that you realized fear was never just about what could happen, but about what you imagined could happen—the horrors your mind painted in vivid detail. you tried to shake it off, to rationalize it away, but fear wasn't rational. it was primal, an ancient instinct that told you to run, to hide, to protect yourself from whatever lurked in the darkness. yet there you stood, rooted in place, unable to escape the tightening grip of terror that had found a home within you.

the night air had a palpable stillness to it, a quiet that pressed down on cha hyein like a weighted blanket. it was the kind of night that made even the most mundane tasks feel sinister. the clock on the wall ticked steadily, its rhythm the only sound accompanying her as she moved about the kitchen. the small kitchen, dimly lit by the faint glow of a single overhead bulb, cast long, eerie shadows that stretched across the linoleum floor.

she was carefully preparing for her movie night, every movement deliberate, almost ritualistic. she reached into the cabinet, the hinges creaking as she opened it, and retrieved a bag of popcorn. the plastic crinkled loudly in the oppressive silence. she poured the kernels into the old, worn popcorn maker, the metal cold against her skin, before setting it on the counter. the machine whirred to life, filling the room with a low, mechanical hum that grew louder with each passing second.

hyein glanced at the clock again, her anticipation tinged with a hint of unease. she loved horror movies, the thrill of fear they brought, but tonight felt different. there was a heaviness in the air, a tension that made her hesitate. she shook her head, dismissing the irrational feeling, and focused on the popping sounds now erupting from the popcorn maker, the kernels bursting in rapid succession, filling the air with the familiar scent of butter and salt.

it was just as she reached for a bowl to catch the popcorn that the phone rang. the sudden sound made her jump, her heart skipping a beat before she cursed herself for being so jumpy. she wiped her hands on a dish towel, the fabric rough against her skin, and picked up the receiver. “hello?” she answered, trying to keep her voice light, though the uneasy feeling gnawed at her.

there was a brief pause on the other end, just long enough for a chill to crawl up her spine, before a voice, low and smooth, asked, “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

she let out a relieved giggle, immediately assuming it was her boyfriend, playing one of his usual pranks. “yunho, this isn’t funny,” she chided, a smile tugging at her lips. she couldn't deal with her boyfriend anymore—she was already on the brink of breaking up with him, after hearing what he had to say about some girls from school. the voice on the other end, however, remained unfazed. “this isn’t yunho.”

the smile faded from her face, replaced by a furrowed brow. there was something unsettling about the way the stranger spoke, the way his voice seemed to snake through the phone line, wrapping around her like a cold tendril. still, she decided to play along, attributing the voice to some friend of yunho’s who had gotten hold of her number. “well,” she said, forcing a lightness she didn’t feel, “i’d have to say a nightmare on elm street.”

the popcorn continued to pop in the background, the sound a chaotic backdrop to the quiet conversation. the voice didn’t miss a beat. “which of the films was called the dream child?”

she scoffed, rolling her eyes as she leaned against the counter. “what is this? trivia night?” she quipped, but the silence on the other end unnerved her. it was as though the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a vacuum where sound should be. she cleared her throat, feeling a prickling on the back of her neck. “the fourth movie,” she answered, her voice now laced with irritation.

but the silence persisted, thick and oppressive. she opened her mouth to demand what kind of game this was when suddenly, the lights flickered and then went out completely. the kitchen plunged into darkness, the only illumination coming from the faint glow of the popcorn maker as it continued its frantic popping, the sounds echoing unnaturally in the darkened space.

her breath hitched in her throat as she fumbled for the light switch, her fingers trembling. the voice, now a sinister whisper, finally broke the silence. “sorry, that’s incorrect.” the line went dead with a chilling finality.

panic surged through her. the phone slipped from her grasp, clattering to the floor as she spun around, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness. the kitchen was now a maze of shadows, every corner and crevice filled with an unknown threat. and then she heard it—footsteps, slow and deliberate, approaching from somewhere behind her. her heartbeat thundered in her ears as she scrambled to grab a knife from the block on the counter. the cold steel felt reassuring in her grip, though she knew it was a flimsy defense against whatever—or whoever—was out there. she backed away, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as the footsteps grew closer, more distinct, echoing through the silent house.

she couldn’t stay here. she had to get out, she had to find yunho. without another thought, she bolted for the back door, the knife clutched tightly in her hand. she yanked the door open and stumbled into the backyard, the cool night air hitting her like a wave. she ran, her footsteps crunching on the gravel path, her lungs burning with each frantic breath. the backyard was a vast, dark expanse, the trees looming like specters in the night, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers.

she stopped short when she saw him. yunho. hr was seated in the middle of the yard, on a chair, his head slumped forward, his hands tied behind his back. relief washed over her, momentarily drowning out the terror. “yunho!” she called, her voice trembling as she took a step toward him. but something was wrong. he didn’t move, didn’t respond. the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she took another tentative step closer. the shadows shifted, and suddenly, the yard was flooded with light. the harsh brightness revealed the gruesome truth.

yunho sat slumped in the chair, his shirt stained with dark, wet patches of blood. his torso had been brutally slashed open, his insides spilling out in a macabre display. the knife slipped from her grasp, clattering to the ground as she choked back a scream, the horror of the scene overwhelming her. “no, no, no, no,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as she backed away, her hands trembling violently. tears blurred her vision, but she couldn’t look away from his lifeless body, the reality of what she was seeing refusing to sink in.

then, she heard it. footsteps, again. this time, faster, closer. she spun around, her heart pounding in her chest, and saw a figure emerging from the shadows, clad in black, their face hidden behind a grotesque mask. the sight of the masked figure sent a jolt of pure terror through her, adrenaline propelling her forward as she turned and ran, her only thought to escape.

but the figure was fast, too fast. she could hear it gaining on her, the sound of their footsteps almost drowned out by her own panicked breaths. the yard seemed endless, the fence too far away, the distance stretching out like a cruel joke. and then she felt it—a hand, cold and unyielding, grabbing her arm, yanking her back with a force that knocked the air from her lungs. she struggled, her screams piercing the night, but the figure was relentless, its grip like iron as they pulled her down to the ground.

she fought, kicking, thrashing, but it was no use. the masked figure loomed over her, the moonlight glinting off the blade in their hand. she barely had time to register the glint of steel before it came down, slashing through the air with terrifying precision. the last thing she saw was the cold, lifeless eyes staring down at her from behind the mask, and then, nothing. it was game over.

the classroom was thick with an unspoken tension, the kind that crept in through the cracks and settled into your bones, making the air heavy and hard to breathe. you sat there, staring at the scuffed surface of your desk, tracing the grooves and dents with your eyes in a futile attempt to keep your mind from spiraling. but it was impossible. the anxiety gnawed at you, relentless and cruel, as you waited for the officer to speak.

he stood at the front of the room, a somber figure in his dark uniform, the emblem on his chest barely catching the light. his voice, when he finally began to speak, was low and measured, a tone that carried the weight of the horrific news he was about to deliver. “i’m afraid i have some difficult news to share,” he began, his eyes sweeping across the room, pausing for just a moment as they met yours before continuing. “your classmate, cha hyein, was found dead last night.”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs. the room seemed to tilt, the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing in an almost sinister hum. the silence that followed was deafening, a collective intake of breath as everyone tried to process the officer’s words. “there’s more,” he continued, his voice dropping to a grave whisper, the kind that made your skin crawl. “hyein’s death was not an accident. she was murdered.”

murdered. the word reverberated through your mind, echoing in the empty chambers of your thoughts, growing louder with each passing second. the officer’s face was a mask of professionalism, but you could see the horror lurking behind his eyes, the same horror that now twisted in your stomach.

“the suspect,” he said, his voice faltering for just a moment, “was seen wearing a long, black-and-white mask. they hung her by her own intestines, from a tree in her backyard.” the room was suffocating, the air thick with the collective fear and disbelief that hung in the space between you and the officer. the gruesome details painted a picture so horrific, so unimaginable, that your brain struggled to fully comprehend it. you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, a cold sweat breaking out on your skin as the officer’s words replayed in your mind, each syllable dripping with dread.

before he could continue, your teacher, who had been standing near the back of the room with a pale face and trembling hands, abruptly cut him off. “that’s enough,” she said, her voice sharp and edged with a panic she was barely concealing. “these kids don’t need to hear any more.” the officer nodded, though his expression was one of reluctant agreement. he had more to say, you could tell, but he swallowed it back, his mouth set in a grim line. the silence that followed was unbearable, an oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe. the rest of the class passed in a blur, a haze of half-heard words and distorted faces. your mind was everywhere except where it should have been, replaying the officer’s words over and over, unable to shake the image of hyein’s lifeless body swaying in the wind.

by the time the final bell rang, you felt like a ghost drifting through the halls, your movements mechanical and numb. the usual chatter of your classmates felt distant, like it was coming from another world, one that you were no longer a part of. you found yourself outside the school, standing with your friends near the front gates, the familiar faces offering little comfort in the face of the terror gnawing at your insides.

kai was the first to break the uneasy silence. “so, that’s how she went out, huh? hung by her own intestines?” he let out a low whistle, the sound unnervingly casual considering the circumstances. “what a way to go.” jennie’s hand shot out, slapping him hard on the arm. “don’t be such an ass, kai,” she snapped, her voice sharp with anger. “leave her alone.”

he winced, rubbing his arm where she’d hit him, but the smirk on his face didn’t falter. “okay, i’ll liver alone.”

doyoung, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly spoke up. “the killer has an interesting tactic, though,” he mused, almost to himself. “the mask, the way they used her intestines. it’s all very theatrical.” kai shot him a sideways glance, his smirk widening into something more sinister. “what, you think you’re some kind of expert now? maybe you’re the killer, doyoung, with all that insight.”

he glared at him, his lips curling into a snarl. “fuck off, kai. i’m just saying.” jennie groaned, clearly exasperated with the both of them. “you’re both being assholes,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. before she could say anything more, kai’s hands were suddenly around her waist, lifting her off the ground and slinging her over his shoulder despite her protests.

“you should talk less,” he teased, his voice light, but there was a hint of something darker underneath. jennie struggled in his grip, her fists pounding against his back, but kai only laughed, ignoring her complaints. amid the banter, you felt like you were floating, your thoughts far away from the conversation. the unease that had settled in your gut during class refused to dissipate, growing stronger with each passing minute. you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that the horror of what had happened to hyein was only the beginning.

taehyung noticed your distraction, his dark eyes softening as he reached out to stroke your hair gently, his touch grounding you in the present moment. “hey,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil in your mind. “you okay?” you shook your head, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “this whole incident. it’s freaking me out, tae. i can’t stop thinking about it.”

he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing across your skin in a tender gesture. “you shouldn’t worry,” he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet confidence that made your heart ache. you looked up at him, searching his eyes for the reassurance you desperately needed. “why not?”

his lips curled into a small, knowing smile, but he said nothing for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. finally, he spoke, his voice low and sure. “because nothing could happen to you with me around.” the conviction in his words, the way he said it as though it was an undeniable truth, made something inside you unclench. the tension that had coiled in your chest slowly began to unwind, and you found yourself leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand chase away the cold fear that had settled in your bones.

kai's laughter rang out into the cooling evening air, a sharp contrast to the somber mood that had settled over your group like a heavy fog. he flashed a grin, his eyes alight with a spark of mischief that seemed almost out of place given the day's events. “so,” he began, his tone casual, as if the tension that had gripped everyone didn’t even register to him, “who’s coming to my party tomorrow night?”

his words hung in the air for a moment, the sudden shift in conversation jarring against the lingering dread. you watched as taehyung, standing close to you with his hand still gently cradling your hair, scoffed, disbelief evident in his voice. “a party? seriously, kai? how can you even be in the mood for that after what happened?”

he shrugged, the motion careless, almost indifferent. “what does that have to do with me? hyein’s gone, but life goes on, right?” his words were nonchalant, but there was a darkness in the way he said them, as if the horror of what had happened was nothing more than an inconvenience, something to be brushed aside in favor of more entertaining pursuits.

doyoung, who had been leaning against the fence with his arms crossed, winced at his words. he tilted his head, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he spoke. “you know, kai, i’m not so sure about that. with the way you’re acting, it’s almost like you’re trying to convince us you had nothing to do with it.”

kai’s eyes narrowed, the playful glint in them hardening into something sharper, more dangerous. he turned to doyoung, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “careful, do,” he said, his voice low and smooth, with an edge that made your skin crawl. “you keep talking like that, and you might just be my next victim.”

the tension between them was almost laughable, a taut string ready to snap at any moment. you could see doyoung bristle at the threat, but before he could retort, jennie suddenly turned to you, her enthusiasm cutting through the unease like a knife through butter. “please, you have to come to the party!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide and pleading as she grabbed your hands in hers. the intensity of her grip was almost desperate, as if the promise of a party was the only thing holding her together, a fragile thread of normalcy in the midst of the chaos.

you hesitated, your gaze flickering to taehyung, searching for some kind of direction, some sign of what you should do. his expression softened when your eyes met, and he offered you a reassuring smile, the kind that made your heart feel a little less heavy. “we’ll both be there,” he said, his voice gentle yet firm, as if the decision had already been made and all you had to do was follow his lead.

the words brought you a strange sense of comfort, the certainty in his tone a welcome anchor in the storm of uncertainty swirling around you. but even as you nodded in agreement, a small voice in the back of your mind whispered that something wasn’t right, that the veneer of normalcy everyone was so desperately clinging to was nothing more than a fragile illusion.

the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows as the five of you walked down the quiet street. the events of the day lingered like a dark cloud, your minds still grappling with the gruesome details of hyein's fate. the air was thick with tension, and despite the occasional attempts at levity, the unease was palpable. doyoung was the first to break the silence, his voice tinged with a mix of morbid fascination and disbelief. “i still can’t believe they found her liver just—out there like that.”

you felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the imagery all too vivid in your mind. without thinking, you corrected him, your voice soft yet firm. “it wasn’t her liver, doyoung. it was her pancreas.” the group fell silent for a moment, the words hanging in the air.

you caught taehyung’s gaze, and he shot you a look you couldn’t quite decipher. there was something in his eyes—concern, perhaps, or maybe a hint of something else, something deeper. whatever it was, it made your heart skip a beat, and you quickly looked away, the weight of his gaze too much to bear. jennie, walking beside you, shuddered visibly, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off the chill that had settled over the group. “okay, enough,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “i think it’s time we drop that topic.”

kai agreed, his grin widening as he spoke. “yeah, i agree. i can only imagine how much paincreas she was in,” he quipped, cackling at his own words. jennie rolled her eyes and slapped him on the back, her voice a mix of exasperation and amusement. “shut up. seriously, that’s not funny.”

but this time, even doyoung couldn’t suppress a giggle, the absurdity of the situation making the dark humor almost a relief. it was as if the laughter, however inappropriate, was a way to break the tension, to remind yourselves that you were still alive, still capable of feeling something other than fear. the conversation ebbed and flowed as you continued down the street, the familiar path to your house growing shorter with each step. the streetlights flickered on, casting pools of golden light on the pavement, but even their warm glow couldn’t chase away the shadows that seemed to cling to the edges of your vision.

as you neared your house, you felt a strange reluctance to part ways with taehyung. the thought of entering the cold, empty space alone filled you with a sense of dread you couldn’t quite shake. when you finally reached your gate, you stopped and turned to him, your heart heavy with unspoken fears. he paused as well, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. without a word, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around you in a gentle embrace. you leaned into him, the warmth of his body a welcome contrast to the chill that had settled over you. his hands moved up to brush the hair from your forehead, his touch tender and careful, as if you were something fragile.

he bent down, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. “call me if you need anything,” he murmured, his voice a soft, reassuring whisper that seemed to ease some of the tension in your chest. you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “i will.”

you lingered for a moment longer, not wanting to let go of the comfort he provided, but eventually, you pulled back, giving him a small, grateful smile. with one last look, you turned and walked up the path to your door, the weight of the day settling back over you as taehyung’s presence faded into the background. the door creaked open as you stepped inside, the silence of the house pressing in on you from all sides. you locked the door behind you, the sound of the bolt sliding into place echoing in the empty space. the house was quiet—too quiet—every creak and groan of the old wood magnified in the stillness.

the house was too quiet, a silence that stretched on like a taut string ready to snap. you busied yourself with chores, trying to ignore the nagging unease that clung to you. the laundry was first, the rhythmic hum of the machine a welcome distraction. you folded the clothes mechanically, your mind wandering to a time when life was simpler, safer. as you dusted the shelves, your eyes landed on a framed photograph—a moment frozen in time, a memory that both warmed and shattered your heart.

it was a picture of you and your dad, taken years ago. you were both smiling, your faces lit up with pure joy. it was a candid shot, one of those rare moments when everything felt right in the world. but now, as you stared at it, the smile faded from your lips, replaced by a deep frown. his passing had taken a toll on you, a wound that had never fully healed. the grief was always there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to pull you under if you let your guard down.

with a sigh, you placed the picture back on the shelf and moved to the living room, sinking into the couch. the cushions were soft, enveloping you in their warmth, but the comfort was fleeting. the emptiness of the house pressed in on you, a reminder of just how alone you were. you reached for your phone, half expecting a text from taehyung, but nothing. just silence.

you had just begun to relax when your phone buzzed, startling you. you glanced at the screen, expecting to see taehyung's name, but there was no number—just a blank space where the caller id should have been. your heart skipped a beat, a cold finger of dread tracing down your spine. you hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen, before finally answering. “hello?” your voice wavered slightly, betraying your nerves.

for a moment, there was nothing—just the faint crackle of static on the other end. then, a voice, low and smooth, sent a chill straight to your bones. “hello, (y/n).”

you froze, the phone clutched tightly in your hand. the sound of your name, spoken by a voice you didn’t recognize, filled you with a fear unlike anything you had ever felt. your throat tightened, and it took all your strength to force out the words. “who is this?” the voice chuckled, a sound that made your skin crawl. “you could guess, but you’d never get it right.”

you scoffed, trying to mask your fear with bravado. “and what do i get if i guess right?”

silence. the kind that pressed in on you, that made you hyperaware of every creak and groan of the house. your breath caught in your throat, and just as you were about to speak again, you heard it—a knock at the door. “you get to live.”

you jumped, heart slamming against your ribcage, eyes darting toward the front door. “who’s there?” the voice on the other end of the line was calm, almost amused. “gonna get that?”

your hand trembled as you slowly rose from the couch, every instinct screaming at you to run. you grabbed a knife from the kitchen, the cold steel a poor comfort against the growing terror. with shaky steps, you approached the door, peering through the peephole. nothing. the porch was empty, the street beyond quiet. but the knocking persisted, louder now, more insistent. only, it wasn’t coming from the door anymore. it was coming from the living room.

panic surged through you, and you bolted up the stairs, heart pounding in your chest like a drum. you reached your bedroom and slammed the door shut, locking it behind you. your breath came in ragged gasps as you fumbled with the window, pushing it open just in case you needed to escape. with trembling hands, you dialed taehyung’s number. the ringing felt like an eternity, each second stretching on, until finally, his voice broke through the terror. “(y/n)? are you okay?”

“tae, someone’s trying to break in,” you whispered, your voice tight with fear. “i don’t know what to do.”

“i’ll be right there. where are you?” his voice was steady, a lifeline in the midst of the chaos. “by the window,” you managed to say, your eyes darting around the room, every shadow a potential threat. the minutes that passed felt like hours. the house was eerily quiet now, the knocking having ceased, but the fear remained, coiled tight in your chest. you stared out the window, your eyes straining in the darkness for any sign of movement.

then, a hand on the window frame startled you, and you almost screamed before realizing it was taehyung. he climbed up with surprising ease, slipping through the window and into your room. he took one look at your pale face and pulled you into a tight embrace, his presence grounding you. “i checked around,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. “there’s no one outside.”

before you could respond, the knock came again—this time, from the bedroom door. both of you froze, fear rippling through the room like a cold wind. taehyung’s eyes met yours, wide with terror, as he fumbled for his phone, quickly dialing the police. “they’ll be here soon,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. but the knocking grew more persistent, more aggressive, until it turned into a pounding that echoed through the walls.

“we have to go,” he urged, guiding you toward the window. with his help, you climbed out, the cool night air a stark contrast to the suffocating tension inside. you both dropped to the ground, crouching in the shadows at the front of the house, waiting. his arms were around you, holding you close as you both tried to steady your breathing. when the police arrived, you could barely speak, your voice trembling as you told them that the intruder was inside. they moved quickly, guns drawn, disappearing into the house while you and taehyung waited outside, the minutes dragging on like hours.

when the officers finally emerged, their faces were blank, offering no comfort. “there’s no one inside,” one of them said, his tone flat. “we’ve checked every room, every closet. there’s no sign of anyone.” you stared at him, your mind reeling. “but we heard it. the knocking—it was real. it was there.”

the officer exchanged a glance with his partner, then turned to taehyung, suspicion creeping into his voice. “so, you just happened to be around when all this was going on?” you bristled at the insinuation, stepping forward to defend him. “i called him. he was on the phone with me when the knocking happened. he heard it too.”

the officer’s skepticism remained, but he didn’t press the issue. “we’ll look for any evidence, but in the meantime, it might be best if you stayed somewhere else tonight. just to be safe.” yaehyung tightened his grip on you, his voice gentle as he spoke. “you can stay at my place. we’ll figure this out.” numbly, you nodded, too exhausted and too terrified to argue. as you walked away from the house that had once been your sanctuary, you couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing would ever feel safe again.

the drive to taehyung’s house was a blur, the streets illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, casting long shadows that danced in the corners of your vision. the night air was cool against your skin, but it did little to ease the tension coiled in your chest. his hand rested on your thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles in an attempt to comfort you, but even his familiar touch couldn’t chase away the lingering fear that clung to you like a second skin.

when you finally arrived, his home felt like a haven, a place where the outside world couldn’t reach you. the house was warm, the lights soft and inviting, a stark contrast to the chilling events of the night. as you stepped inside, taehyung closed the door behind you, locking it with a deliberate click, and for a moment, the sound felt like a promise of safety.

“hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he took your hand, guiding you further into the house. “you’re safe now, okay? the police will handle it.” you nodded, though the reassurance felt hollow, your mind still replaying the nightmarish events that had unfolded. but when he pulled you into his embrace, his warmth seeped into you, grounding you in the present. his arms wrapped around you securely, his chin resting on the top of your head as you sank into his touch, allowing yourself to relax, even if just a little.

“you shouldn’t be so worked up,” he continued, his voice a gentle murmur against your ear. “the police will do their job. i won’t let anything happen to you.”

“i hope so,” you whispered back, your words muffled against his chest. the tension in your shoulders eased slightly as his hand came up to stroke your hair, his touch light and tender.

for a moment, the world outside didn’t exist—there was only taehyung, his presence a balm to your frayed nerves. he tilted your chin up with a soft touch, his eyes searching yours, and in that moment, all the fear, all the anxiety seemed to melt away. he leaned down, his lips brushing yours in a kiss that was sweet and tender, a promise that he was here, that he would keep you safe.

when he pulled back, a small, playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “wanna watch a scary movie?” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief. you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a laugh bubbling up despite the night’s events. you slapped his chest lightly, the familiar gesture bringing a sense of normalcy that you desperately needed. “are you serious right now?”

“just trying to lighten the mood,” he chuckled, leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss, this one deeper, more lingering. his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he kissed you, slow and gentle, as if trying to convey all the things he couldn’t put into words. when he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, and you found yourself smiling despite everything. “you’re terrible,” you whispered, though there was no bite to your words.

“but you love me anyway,” he murmured back, his voice soft, his breath warm against your lips. the two of you stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside fading away. eventually, he led you to the couch, pulling you down beside him. the room was dimly lit, the soft glow from a nearby lamp casting a warm light over the space, making everything feel intimate and safe.

he wrapped a blanket around the both of you, cocooning you in warmth, and you curled up against his side, your head resting on his shoulder. his arm draped over you, holding you close, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your thoughts. “don’t worry,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple. “we’ll figure this out. you don’t have to be afraid. not when i’m here.”

you nodded, closing your eyes as you let his words wash over you, his voice a soothing lullaby that chased away the remaining shards of fear. with him by your side, it was easier to believe that everything would be okay, that the nightmare would soon be over. he pressed another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled back, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your arm. “i’ll be here all night. i’m not going anywhere.”

“good,” you murmured, snuggling closer to him, your body finally starting to relax. “because i’m not letting you out of my sight.” he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you felt the last of your anxiety ebb away, replaced by a sense of calm that only he could bring. the fear that had gripped you so tightly earlier seemed distant now, a shadow that couldn’t reach you in the warmth of his embrace.

the morning light filtered through the tall windows of the school hallway, casting long, warm beams that danced across the polished floors. the steady hum of student chatter filled the air, a comforting reminder of normalcy after the events of the previous night. you walked beside jennie, her presence a familiar comfort as you made your way through the crowded halls. her eyes sparkled with curiosity, as they always did, but today there was an edge of concern in her gaze as she glanced over at you. you could feel her watching you, waiting for you to speak, but you kept your thoughts to yourself, still trying to shake off the lingering unease from the night before.

when you finally neared your locker, you stopped, your hand hovering over the cool metal handle. she paused beside you, leaning against the neighboring locker with a casual grace that was so quintessentially her. the buzz of the hallway seemed to fade as you turned to face her, knowing that you couldn’t keep it from her any longer. “so,” you began, your voice low, tinged with the weight of what you were about to share. “something happened last night.” her eyebrows shot up, her expression instantly serious. “what? what happened?”

you took a deep breath, the memories of the night before flooding back with a cold, creeping dread. “someone tried to break into my house.” her eyes widened in shock, her mouth falling open slightly. “oh my god, are you okay? what happened? tell me everything.”

you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady as you recounted the events. “o was doing some chores, just trying to unwind, and then i got a call. no number, just this voice,” you trailed off, shuddering at the memory of that cold, taunting voice. “what did they say?” jennie asked, her voice hushed, as if speaking too loudly would summon the terror back.

“they knew my name,” you continued, “and they told me to answer the door. i armed myself with a knife and checked the peephole, but no one was there. then i heard the knocking again, but it was coming from inside the house.” her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. “fuck, that’s terrifying.”

“it was,” you admitted, the fear from the night before still fresh in your mind. “i ran upstairs and locked myself in my room. called tae, and he came over right away.” her expression softened at the mention of taehyung’s name, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “so, you really spent the night at his place?”

you nodded, your own lips curving into a faint smile as you thought of how safe you’d felt with him. “yeah, he was the only thing holding me together.” her eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint as she leaned in a little closer. “and? did he give it to you good?”

you scoffed, playfully swatting her arm. “as if,” you said, rolling your eyes at her insinuation. “It wasn’t like that.” she leaned back against the locker, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded you with a knowing smile. “you should totally let him. he’s hot, (y/n). he’s such a catch.”

her words hung in the air between you, and you couldn’t help but let them sink in. taehyung was indeed a catch—kind, protective, and undeniably handsome. but before you could dwell on those thoughts, you shot jennie a playful look. “kai must not be hitting it good enough, huh?” she rolled her eyes dramatically, a groan slipping past her lips. “i wish. we’ve been going at it like rabbits.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you, the tension from the night before melting away in the face of her candidness. “gross,” you teased, pretending to gag as you elbowed her lightly. the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, the usual banter and teasing between you providing a much-needed distraction from the horrors that had gripped you less than twelve hours ago. the fear and uncertainty that had weighed so heavily on you felt distant now, replaced by the slightest of warmth.

the walk to kai's house was filled with the soft murmurs of conversation, the occasional burst of laughter, and the sound of your footsteps against the pavement. the night was crisp, the air cool against your skin, making you pull your jacket a little tighter around your shoulders. taehyung walked beside you, his presence warm and reassuring. every so often, his hand would brush against yours, a small reminder that he was there, keeping close.

doyoung sidled up to you with a grin. his eyes sparkled under the streetlights, and he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a soft murmur meant just for you. “you look stunning tonight,” he said, his tone sincere, his gaze lingering on you for a moment too long.

you smiled at the compliment, feeling a slight warmth in your cheeks. “thanks, do,” you replied, the words leaving your lips with a casual ease, though you could feel the tension brewing beside you. taehyung’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze flicking to him with a sharpness that was hard to miss. his jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as he clenched his teeth, the protective side of him bubbling to the surface. there was something possessive in the way he looked at doyoung, a silent warning that needed no words.

the tension was palpable, but doyoung, ever oblivious or simply choosing to ignore it, continued on, walking ahead with his usual carefree demeanor. jennie shot you a knowing look, her lips curling into a slight smirk. she knew taehyung well enough to catch the subtle shift in his mood, and it amused her to no end.

kai’s house came into view, a beacon of chaos and noise at the end of the street. even from a distance, you could hear the music thumping, the bass reverberating through the ground, sending small vibrations up your legs. the front yard was littered with people, some standing in clusters, others sprawled out on the grass, red cups in hand. the porch light flickered, casting an eerie glow over the scene, adding to the sense of wild abandon that hung in the air. the unease you had felt earlier began to creep back in, settling like a cold weight in the pit of your stomach. something about the atmosphere tonight felt off, as if the darkness held secrets just waiting to be unveiled. you tried to shake it off, telling yourself it was just nerves, the remnants of the fear from last night clinging to you like a shadow.

as you approached the front steps, kai burst out of the front door, his grin wide and mischievous. he didn’t waste a second before throwing his arms around jennie, lifting her effortlessly off the ground as she squealed with delight. he spun her around, her laughter mixing with the thumping bass, and when he finally set her down, his eyes found yours.

“the most important thing tonight,” he began, his voice loud enough to be heard over the music, “is to have fun.” his grin widened, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something almost ominous as he added, “and to not die.”

doyoung, ever the skeptic, rolled his eyes, pushing past him with a dismissive wave. “dramatic much?” he muttered, disappearing into the throng of people inside the house. kai just chuckled, a low sound that sent a shiver down your spine. but before you could dwell on it, you felt taehyung’s hand slip into yours, his fingers lacing through yours with a comforting warmth. he turned to you, his gaze softening as he took in your expression, the worry etched in the lines of your face.

“you okay?” he asked, his voice low, meant just for you. you forced a smile, squeezing his hand in return. “i will be after a drink.” as if he had anticipated your need, he pulled a beer from behind his back, presenting it to you with a small, reassuring smile. you took it, grateful for the distraction, and popped the cap off, taking a long, deep sip. the cold liquid slid down your throat, a welcome relief that eased some of the tension coiled inside you.

the scene at the party was an absolute shitshow, a whirlwind of chaos and drunken revelry. people were everywhere, crowding the small space, their voices raised in raucous laughter and slurred conversation. bottles were scattered across the floor, some still full, others empty and abandoned. the smell of alcohol and sweat hung heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of cigarette smoke and something sweet, like pot.

the lights inside were dim, casting long shadows across the room, making it hard to see more than a few feet in front of you. the music was loud, almost too loud, vibrating through the walls and making it difficult to think. everywhere you looked, there was a new scene of debauchery—people making out in corners, others dancing with reckless abandon, the whole place a pulsing, chaotic mess.

you were still taking in the wild scene when suddenly, out of nowhere, a bottle flew across the room, headed straight for you. before you could even react, taehyung was there, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you down, helping you duck just in time to avoid the glass projectile. the bottle shattered against the wall behind you, the sound of breaking glass cutting through the music. taehyung was up in an instant, turning on the guy who had thrown it, his eyes flashing with anger as he shoved the guy hard into a nearby table.

“what the fuck is your problem?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. the guy, clearly drunk out of his mind, raised his hands in defense, his eyes wide with fear. “it was an accident, man. i swear.”

you quickly grabbed taehyung’s arm, pulling him back. “it’s okay, tae. it’s fine. just let it go.” he hesitated, his body still tense with anger, but finally, he stepped back, though not without giving the guy one last warning glare. kai appeared out of nowhere, slipping between them with a grin, trying to diffuse the situation. “it’s a party, man,” he said, clapping a hand on taehyung’s shoulder. “shit happens.”

taehyung didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, turning his attention back to you before glancing at jennie, his voice monotone. “we’re out of beer. you should grab some more from the garage.”

jennie pouted, crossing her arms. “that’s so far away, though.” kai just laughed, giving her a playful slap on the ass. “yeah, come on, it’s not that far. i’ll owe you one.”

she rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile on her lips as she finally agreed. “fine, but you better make it up to me later.” as she headed off toward the garage, kai turned back to you with a grin. but you barely registered his presence, your thoughts still on taehyung, on the way he had jumped to your defense without hesitation. it was comforting, knowing he had your back, but the tension in his eyes as he watched you made your heart race for reasons you weren’t quite ready to examine.

jennie let out an exaggerated sigh as she trudged across the backyard, the cool night air sending a shiver down her spine. she wrapped her arms around herself, not so much from the cold, but from the irritation bubbling beneath her skin. of all the things she could be doing at kai’s party, fetching more beer wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. “this is so far,” she muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes as she stomped her way to the garage. “and of course, i’m the one who has to go get it. stupid kai and his stupid beer.”

she reached the garage and yanked the door open with a bit more force than necessary, the hinges creaking in protest. the garage was dimly lit, a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting long shadows that made the space feel smaller than it was. jennie flicked the light switch near the door, and the fluorescent lights buzzed to life, flooding the garage with harsh, artificial light.

“ugh,” she groaned, dragging her feet as she made her way to the old fridge in the corner. rhe fridge was ancient, its white paint chipped and peeling, but it still worked, and that was all that mattered to kai. she opened the fridge door, the cold air rushing out to meet her as she leaned down to grab the bottles of beer. “he better make this up to me,” she muttered to herself, annoyed that she had to be the one to do this. she piled a few bottles into her arms, balancing them carefully as she reached for more.

just as she was about to stand, the lights in the garage flickered once before plunging the entire space into darkness. she froze, her heart skipping a beat as the sudden darkness enveloped her. she stayed crouched, the bottles still clutched in her arms, the cold seeping through the glass and into her skin.

“kai, that’s so not funny,” she called out, her voice echoing off the walls of the garage. the only response was silence, thick and oppressive, pressing down on her from all sides. her irritation quickly turned to anger, the darkness feeding her frustration. she straightened up, holding the bottles close to her chest as she scanned the garage, though she could see nothing. “i swear to god, if you don’t turn the lights back on, i’m gonna kick your ass.” the darkness seemed to stretch on forever, the silence gnawing at her nerves. then, just as suddenly as they had gone out, the lights flickered back on.

jennie’s breath caught in her throat, her heart slamming against her ribs as she found herself face to face with a masked figure. the mask was featureless, a smooth, blank surface that revealed nothing of the person behind it. the eyes and mouth, low and pitch black. the cloaked figure was standing by the exit, blocking her only way out, their presence looming like a dark shadow over her. one of the bottles slipped from her grasp, falling to the concrete floor with a shattering crash that seemed to echo in the now deathly quiet garage. her pulse roared in her ears, her mind racing as panic set in.

the figure didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, just stood there, watching her with an unnerving stillness. jennie was walled in, the only other exit behind her, too far to reach before the figure could close the distance. she could feel the adrenaline surging through her veins, her body screaming at her to move, to do something. without thinking, she grabbed one of the remaining bottles and hurled it at the figure with all her strength. the glass smashed against the figure’s shoulder, and they staggered back slightly, but it wasn’t enough to knock them down. a second bottle followed, then a third, each one flying through the air with a desperation born of fear.

“fuck!” she spat, her voice trembling as she reached for the button to open the garage door. she pressed it frantically, over and over, willing the door to rise faster. the mechanism groaned in response, the door inching upward at a painfully slow pace. she dropped the last bottle, her hands shaking as she crouched down, trying to crawl under the rising door. her breath came in short, panicked gasps, her chest tight with terror as the door seemed to move at a snail’s pace. the cold concrete scraped against her palms and knees as she scrambled to escape.

but just as she was about to slip out, the figure reached up and pressed the button, sending the door back down with a jarring thud. her heart lurched in her chest as she realized what was happening, her eyes widening in horror.

“no, no, no!” she cried, scrambling to get out before the door closed completely. But the figure was faster, their gloved hand latching onto the hem of her dress, yanking her back with a force that sent her sprawling. the garage door continued its descent, trapping her underneath as it closed, her body pinned against the cold concrete. she tried to crawl out, to free herself, but the door kept coming down, pressing her harder into the ground. her screams were muffled by the steel, the sound of her panic echoing in the confined space.

the figure watched, their head tilted to the side as if they were considering something. then, with a chilling calmness, they spoke, their voice low and mocking.

“did all the work for me,” the figure said, their tone laced with satisfaction as jennie’s body was slowly crushed beneath the door. her breath came in ragged gasps, her mind reeling from the pain, the sheer terror of what was happening to her. her screams caught in her throat as the door finally settled, the cold metal pressing down on her chest, crushing the air from her lungs. her vision blurred, her world narrowing to the intense pain and the horrifying realization that she was about to die.

“quite the catch,” the figure said, their voice cold and detached as they watched jennie’s body twitch beneath the door. there was no pity, no remorse in their tone, just a chilling satisfaction as her life slipped away. the last thing she heard before the darkness swallowed her whole was the figure’s voice, echoing in the stillness of the garage, a final, cruel taunt as she slipped into oblivion.

the soft thrum of bass-heavy music from the party downstairs barely reached kai's bedroom, muffled by the thick walls and closed door. you lay sprawled across his king-sized bed, the silken sheets cool against your flushed skin. the room spun slightly from the alcohol, your limbs heavy and loose as you sank deeper into the mattress, too intoxicated to care about anything else. the world outside the door, the raucous chaos of the party, felt miles away as you closed your eyes, letting the comfort of the bed envelop you.

a faint knock echoed through the room, so soft you barely registered it. in any other state, the sound would’ve sent a jolt of fear through your system, but now, it was almost comforting, a familiar rhythm that set your heart at ease. there was no hesitation, no sense of dread—just a warmth spreading through your chest as the door creaked open.

a smile tugged at your lips, lazy and affectionate, as you watched him enter. he was as disheveled as you were, the same unsteady, drunken sway to his movements. His presence filled the room, the air thickening with an almost electric charge as he crossed the threshold, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“hey, you,” you murmured, your voice slurred with alcohol and affection. he didn’t respond with words, just a knowing smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. the black and white mask obscured his features, but you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes, the way he looked at you with a mixture of desire and something darker, something more dangerous. he was right in front of you now, and you didn’t hesitate. your hands reached out, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him down onto the bed with you. he let out a surprised laugh as he collapsed on top of you, his body warm and solid against yours.

“how do you expect me to kiss you with this mask on?” you teased, your fingers already slipping beneath the edges of the mask, tugging it off his face. he didn’t resist, letting you reveal the familiar features beneath, the sharp lines of his jaw, the fullness of his lips twisted into a smirk that made your heart race. the black cloak he wore was loose, the fabric cool beneath your hands as you traced your fingers over it, feeling the muscles tense beneath his clothes. his smile widened, a glint of something wicked in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“it’s still dirty,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. taehyung paused, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he continued, “you must’ve gotten her good.”

your heart skipped a beat, the world slowing down for a moment as his words sank in. the meaning behind them, the dark thrill of your shared secret, sent a rush of adrenaline through your veins, chasing away the last remnants of drunken haze. you pressed your knee into his clothed crotch, feeling the way his breath hitched, the way his body reacted to your touch. “she did all the work for me,” you whispered, your voice low and seductive, a smirk playing on your lips as you leaned in, pressing a kiss to his neck. he groaned softly, his hands tightening their grip on you as you continued, “hanging from the door like a flag, you should’ve seen it.”

his eyes darkened, a feral hunger in his gaze as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his hand sliding up to wrap around your throat, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. he leaned in closer, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “you’re gonna get us caught if you keep pulling this shit.” a moan slipped past your lips as his thumb pressed against your lower lip, his eyes locked on yours as you parted your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth. you could taste the salt of his skin, the faintest hint of alcohol lingering on him as you swirled your tongue around his thumb, drawing a deep groan from his chest.

“she had it coming for talking about you the way she did,” you murmured around his thumb, your voice muffled but clear in its intent. his thumb left your mouth, trailing down to spread the spit across your lips, smearing the wetness in a way that made your breath catch. “just like hyein,” you added, your voice a breathy whisper as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. taehyung’s smirk grew wider, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he leaned down, pressing a single kiss to your lips, soft and fleeting.

“getting yunho was just as easy,” he purred, his voice like silk as it wrapped around you, making your head spin with the implications of his words. his lips hovered over yours, the tension between you crackling like electricity. “no one gets to look at you the way i do.”

and then, the distance between you vanished, his lips crashing into yours with a heat that seared through your entire being. the kiss was intense, a wild clash of tongues and teeth, a desperate, all-consuming need that neither of you could ignore. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as his hand tightened around your throat, the pressure just enough to make your head swim, to make you gasp against his mouth. he devoured you, his kiss rough and demanding, as if he couldn’t get enough, as if he needed to mark you, claim you as his in every way possible. and you let him, every fiber of your being surrendering to the dark, twisted desire that had brought you both to this moment, your shared secret binding you together in a way that was both thrilling and terrifying. the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you, locked in a passionate embrace that threatened to consume you both.

his other hand found its way to your chest, his fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt, pushing it aside to expose your bare skin to the cool air. he broke the kiss, his eyes raking over your body with a hunger that left you trembling. “so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust as his thumb circled one of your nipples, watching it pebble beneath his touch. you arched into his hand, a soft moan escaping your lips as he pinched it lightly, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. your hips bucked against his, desperation building in your core, the need for more overwhelming you. he chuckled darkly, his eyes never leaving yours as he bent his head, his mouth closing over your sensitive tit, his teeth grazing it just hard enough to make you cry out.

the sound of fabric tearing filled the room as he ripped your shirt away completely, his mouth moving to your other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the first. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, your nails digging into his back as he continued his relentless assault on your senses. taehyung’s hand trailed down your stomach, slipping into the waistband of your pants, his fingertips grazing your wet pussy. the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you moan his name, a desperate plea for more. without warning, he pulled his hand away, leaving you panting and needy.

he sat back on his heels, his eyes on your flushed face, the smug look in his eyes making your stomach clench. “you want it?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “want me to fuck you like the slut you are?” you nodded, unable to form words, your eyes never leaving his. with a wicked grin, he stood up, pulling you with him so that you were on your knees in front of him.

“then prove it,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “take my cock out and suck it like you’ve never had anything better in your mouth.” you eagerly complied, your hands shaking as you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, freeing his hard length. you took it in your mouth, the taste of him making your eyes roll back in your head, the way he filled you up making you feel so fucking alive. he groaned, his hand fisting in your hair as he began to fuck your mouth, his hips driving into you with a rhythm that was both punishing and perfect. and you loved every second of it, the feel of him stretching your lips, the way his cock hit the back of your throat, the power he had over you in that moment. it was intoxicating, addictive, a dance of control and submission that you never wanted to end. but he needed it to end, he needed to fill you up. before doing so, he needed a taste of you.

he pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, his eyes glazed with lust as he stepped back, pushing you onto the bed. “turn over,” he ordered, his voice firm. you did as you were told, your heart racing as you felt him climb onto the bed behind you. your pants were already around your ankles, your pussy exposed and begging for his attention. his hand came down hard on your ass, the slap echoing in the quiet room, leaving a stinging heat in its wake. “spread your legs,” he demanded, and you obeyed, feeling vulnerable and exposed in the best way possible. his hand moved between your legs, his fingers sliding through your wetness before pushing inside you, his thumb circling your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. his other hand wrapped around your throat again, the pressure building as he began to fuck you with his fingers, his thumb pressing down on your clit with every thrust. your moans grew louder, more desperate, your body writhing under his touch.

his voice was a harsh whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your neck. “you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” you nodded, unable to form words as he worked your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. and then, just as you felt yourself about to fall over, he stopped, his hand leaving your pussy to come down on your ass again, the sting of the slap making you gasp. “you can’t cum until i’m inside you,” he said, his voice a mix of pleasure and threat. your pussy clenched around his fingers, desperate for more, and he chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

you watched, mesmerized, as he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock slick with your juices. “are you ready for me?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “yes, please,” you breathed, your voice shaky with anticipation. and then, with one swift, brutal thrust, he was inside you, filling you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way. you screamed, the pleasure and pain mixing into a heady cocktail that had you seeing white. he didn’t give you time to adjust, just began to fuck you, hard and fast, his grip on your throat tightening as he drove into you. your walls clamped down around him, your body desperately trying to keep him inside, to never let him go.

his hand left your throat, his fingers finding their way to your mouth, pushing themselves inside, making you gag. “suck them clean,” he ordered, his voice thick with lust. you obeyed, your mouth moving over his fingers, sucking them clean of your juices. the humiliation of it only added to the thrill, the taste of yourself on his fingers making you even wetter. and then, with his hand fisted in your hair, he pulled you back, his cock sliding out of you with a wet sound that made you whimper. “turn around,” he said, his voice dark. “i wanna see your face when i make you cum.”

you rolled onto your back, your legs spread wide, your pussy glistening with need. taehyung climbed over you, his cock poised at your entrance again. “ask for it,” he said, his eyes boring into yours. “please,” you whispered, your voice a desperate whine. “please, taehyung, fuck me. make me cum for you.” he didn't comply instantly, no. you watched him with careful, desperate eyes that, despite your intoxicated state, couldn't help but widen as you watched him pull the mask over his face. it shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did, but the sight of him in the same mask you had on hours prior—it did it for you. as twisted and demented as he was, you didn't care. because, you were worse.

the mask was vicious, his clothed eyes gleaming with triumph as he slammed into you, his hips moving with a brutal rhythm that had you clawing at the bed, your nails digging into the sheets. the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. “you like that?” he asked, his voice taunting and muffled. “you like it when i fuck you like a whore?” you nodded, your eyes never leaving his, the words only serving to turn you on more. his hand moved from your hair to your tit, squeezing it hard, his thumb flicking at your nipple. “then cum for me, baby. cum all over my cock.” and just like that, with his words echoing in your ears.

you clawed at his arms when you finally came, your pussy clenching around his throbbing dick. you held onto him desperately, teary eyes boring into the mask's soulless, black ones as you came with a moan. you could feel his sloppy pace reaching its peak, his hips slamming against yours as he threw his head back, a loud moan passing his lips as his hips stuttered, every rope of thick, sticky cum filling you up.

the room was thick with the scent of sweat and lust, the sheets tangled around your limbs as you lay tangled with taehyung, your bodies glistening in the dim light. the frantic heat still lingered in the air, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you tried to catch it, your skin pressed against his. his arm was draped over your waist, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip as you both reveled in the afterglow, a sense of satisfaction and victory hanging between you.

but then, cutting through the hazy warmth of the moment, the shrill wail of police sirens pierced the night air. the sound was distant at first, but growing closer, louder, with each passing second. your heart seized in your chest, the intoxicating haze evaporating in an instant, replaced by a cold, hard fear. you could feel him tense beside you, his hand freezing on your hip as your wide eyes met his, panic flickering across his features. “shit,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. the reality of the situation crashed down on you, all traces of your earlier euphoria vanishing as the sirens drew nearer, the flashing blue and red lights casting an eerie glow through the window.

he was already moving, his body a blur of motion as he threw the sheets off, scrambling to grab the black and white mask that had been tossed carelessly to the floor in the heat of the moment. you followed suit, adrenaline surging through your veins as you hurried to pull on whatever clothes you could find scattered around the room. “we need to get out of here,” you urged him, your voice tight with urgency as you stumbled over to the window, throwing it open. the cool night air rushed in, a stark contrast to the warmth of the room, making you shiver as you glanced back at him.

taehyung was already folding the mask into the black cloak, his movements quick and efficient despite the tremor in his hands. he looked up at you, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and something else—something darker, more determined. “they can’t catch us,” he said, his voice low but firm as he stepped over to you, the cloak bundled in his arms. you nodded, swallowing hard as you glanced out the window, assessing the drop to the ground below. it wasn’t too high, but with the sirens growing louder by the second, it might as well have been a cliff.

“go,” you urged him again, your voice cracking with the weight of the situation. “i’ll be right behind you.” he didn’t need any more convincing. he hoisted himself up onto the windowsill, his movements fluid and practiced as he glanced back at you one last time, a flicker of something passing between you—a silent understanding, a promise.

and then he was gone, dropping down from the window, landing with a soft thud on the grass below. you wasted no time, clambering up onto the sill, your heart in your throat as you took one last look at the bedroom, at the scene you were leaving behind. you dropped down beside him, the impact jarring your legs, but you pushed through the discomfort, the fear driving you forward. he grabbed your hand the moment you landed, his grip firm and reassuring as he pulled you along, his pace quickening with each step.

you didn’t dare look back, the sound of the sirens now deafening, the flashing lights illuminating the surrounding trees as you ran. the world blurred around you, your focus narrowing to the path ahead, to the way taehyung’s hand fit so perfectly in yours, pulling you along, guiding you through the darkness. your lungs burned, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you pushed yourself harder, faster, refusing to slow down, to let the fear catch up to you. the night air was cold against your skin, the chill biting at your exposed flesh, but you didn’t care. all that mattered was getting away, putting as much distance between you and the house as possible.

his hands were shaking as he fumbled with the keys, the metal clinking ominously in the quiet of the night. your breath came in sharp, panicked bursts as you watched him struggle, the weight of your recent escape pressing heavily upon you. the police sirens had long since faded, but the tension remained, a palpable reminder of the chaos you had just fled.

he finally managed to get the key into the lock, but as he turned it, the door refused to budge. the sound of the bolt sliding back met with a soft click, and you could see the glow of light from within spilling out into the darkness. the door was locked, but the lights were on, a strange contradiction that only heightened the sense of unease swirling around you. his breath hitched, a mix of frustration and apprehension etched onto his face. he pushed against the door, his shoulder braced against it, and it swung open with a reluctant groan. the living room was illuminated, casting long shadows against the walls, and there, sprawled casually on the couch, was kai.

the sight of him froze you both in place. taehyung’s face was a mask of shock and confusion, and you felt a chill creep up your spine. kai’s manic grin was unmistakable, but there was a frenetic edge to it that sent a shiver down your back. he looked up at you both, his eyes wild and unblinking, a frenzied energy crackling around him.

“hey,” he said, his voice high-pitched, almost giddy. “just had a question. been nagging me the last three hours.”

the silence was oppressive, a heavy blanket that seemed to suffocate the room. kai’s eyes darted between you and taehyung, the intensity of his gaze sharpening as he continued, “which one of you killed my girlfriend?”

the words hung in the air like a thick fog, each syllable punctuated by a dreadful silence. your heart pounded in your chest as kai’s eyes fell on the cloak in taehyung’s hands. his laughter erupted suddenly, a jarring, discordant sound that had no trace of humor in it. “it couldn’t have been you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with a twisted sort of amusement. “no, it had to be her.”

his gaze turned toward you, darkening with malice. “you just had to, didn’t you?” you met his eyes with a steady resolve, stepping forward as you replied, “she had it coming.”

kai’s manic energy seemed to intensify, his movements erratic as he continued, “no, no, see, there’s a big difference. when i came to your place and fucked you over, you didn’t think for a second that it was me, did you?”

the revelation hit like a punch to the gut, leaving both you and taehyung stunned into silence. the room seemed to spin, the enormity of his words reverberating through you, punctuated only by his cackles that seemed to grow more unhinged with each passing second. “it’s a shame it had to end like this,” kai said, a dark satisfaction in his voice as he began to reach for his gun, his movements slow but deliberate.

without a moment’s hesitation, you drew your own pistol, the cold metal weight steady in your hand. the sharp report of the gunshot shattered the air, and his body lurched backward, the impact of the bullet slamming into his chest. he staggered, falling to the floor with a ragged gasp, his eyes wide with shock and pain. as he struggled, gasping for breath, you walked over to him with a calm, purposeful stride. his hand reached for his own gun, but you were quicker. you kicked it away, the weapon skidding across the floor, and then you knelt beside him, the barrel of your pistol still warm from the recent discharge.

“didn’t think for a second that i was armed too, did you?” you said, your voice low, almost mocking.

his eyes burned with anger and desperation, his mouth moving in a silent snarl as he reached out, his hand clawing at the floor. his breaths came in ragged, painful gasps, and you could see the life slipping from his eyes, a flicker of defiance lingering until the very end.

“you,” he managed to rasp, his voice barely a whisper now, filled with rage and betrayal. but the words were his last, the fire in his eyes fading to a cold, empty stare as the life drained from him. before he was gone, you leaned in closer, your gaze meeting his with a steely resolve. “say hi to jennie for us,” you said, your voice steady and unyielding.

hia eyes, still burning with that final spark of fury, locked onto you for one last, lingering moment before they went vacant. the struggle ceased, his body going limp, his anger dissipating into the silence of the room. you stood up slowly, your heart still pounding but with a different rhythm now, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders. taehyung moved closer, his hand resting on your back in a gesture of support and reassurance. the room was eerily quiet now, the chaos of the night giving way to a stillness that felt almost oppressive in its finality.

taehyung’s eyes were wide with uncertainty, a mix of shock and confusion etching deep lines into his features as he stared at the lifeless form of kai. he swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly as he asked, “what do we do now?”

you took a moment, your mind racing through the aftermath of the night’s harrowing events. the weight of what had just happened pressed heavily upon you, and in the eerie stillness of the room, clarity emerged from the chaos. “call the cops,” you finally said, your voice firm and resolute. taehyung’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his shock evident. “call the cops?” he repeated, disbelief coloring his tone.

you nodded, tucking your gun away into the waistband of your jeans, the cold metal pressing against your skin as you covered it with your shirt. you moved with purpose, taking the cloak and mask from taehyung and placing the mask carefully next to kai’s head. the sight was almost surreal—a stark reminder of the roles you’d all played in this deadly game.

he hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone, his fingers moving swiftly over the screen as he dialed the emergency number. “hello,” he said, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “there’s been an incident at my house. the killer was here, and my girlfriend shot him with his own gun.” he paused, listening intently as he relayed the details of the situation. after a brief exchange, he ended the call and turned back to you, his expression one of cautious resolve.

together, you both moved to dress kai in the cloak. the fabric was heavy, its dark color a stark contrast against the cold, pale skin of the deceased. taehyung’s movements were methodical, almost reverent, as he helped you fold the cloak around his body. the finality of the act was palpable, a grim reminder of the life that had been extinguished.

once he was dressed, you met taehyung’s gaze. there was a complex blend of relief and pride in his eyes, an acknowledgment of the darkness you both had been complicit in. “we did it,” he said softly, a faint, bittersweet smile curving his lips. in response, you reached up and kissed him, the touch of your lips against his both comforting and electric. the kiss was filled with unspoken words, a fleeting moment of intimacy amidst the turmoil.

the sound of sirens pierced through the quiet, growing louder as they approached. the flashing lights of the police cars bathed the exterior of the house in a strobe of red and blue, casting eerie shadows on the walls. you and taehyung stepped outside to meet the officers, the weight of the night’s events hanging heavily around you.

the cops moved swiftly, their professional demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos of the scene. they began by cordoning off the area, their voices authoritative as they directed one another. dorensics teams arrived, meticulously documenting the scene and examining kai’s body. the whole process felt like a surreal blur, the activity around you a stark contrast to the calm, unsettling stillness of the night before.

as the investigation unfolded, it was clear that the narrative being pieced together was one of self-defense. the officers and detectives, with their experience and training, quickly determined that kai had been the aggressor, and your actions had been in response to his threat. the cloak and mask beside him were interpreted as part of the killer’s disguise, lending further credence to the story that you had acted to protect yourself.

the official statement from the police was that kai had been the killer all this time, and your shooting him had been justified under the circumstances. you and taehyung were presented to the town as heroes—brave individuals who had faced down a menace and emerged victorious. the accolades were swift and fervent, with the local news and community rallying around you both. yet, beneath the veneer of heroism, a darker truth lingered unspoken. the town’s relief and gratitude masked the reality that you and taehyung had not simply acted in self-defense but had been players in a deadly game that had claimed more than its share of lives. the false sense of safety you projected contrasted sharply with the cold reality of the truth you both carried within.

in the aftermath, as you and taehyung stood side by side, the echoes of that night—the fear, the violence, the blood—remained with you. the town might have seen you as heroes, but you both knew the reality was far more complicated, a shadow that clung to you as you faced the new day with a somber understanding of the darkness that had driven you to this point.

✧.*

a/n: im ngl i was gonna kill taehyung off im being way too nice

faded (사라졌다) — jeong jaehyun (정재현)

✧.* 18+

in the dim light of the abandoned warehouse, shadows wove intricate patterns across the walls, a testament to the broken windows and the remnants of long-forgotten machinery. the air was thick with the pungent odor of decay, and the floor was strewn with shattered glass and rusting metal scraps. amid this desolation, a figure moved with an unsettling grace, a quiet elegance that seemed incongruous with the setting.

his eyes, sharp and cold, scanned the room with a calculated detachment. they were like twin shards of ice, reflecting a mind that saw the world not as a tapestry of human experiences but as a cold, dispassionate experiment. he was a sociopath, a term that had been plastered across his dossier and whispered among his colleagues, yet the reality of it was far more profound than any clinical definition.

to observe him was to witness the eerie beauty of a machine in motion, devoid of the warmth that usually defined human interactions. his movements were precise, almost mechanical, each step measured and deliberate. the absence of empathy was not merely a gap but an abyss where emotions should have been. when he spoke, his voice was smooth and calculated, a perfect instrument of persuasion devoid of the imperfections of genuine human emotion. his words were delivered with a chilling calmness that could disarm and manipulate with equal ease.

yet, in his eyes, there was something more than mere coldness—a profound emptiness that spoke of a soul stripped of emotional resonance. it was as if he viewed the world through a glass barrier, witnessing the intricacies of human suffering and joy without ever truly engaging with them. this detachment granted him a chilling clarity, allowing him to observe and exploit the weaknesses of others with unnerving efficiency. he could mimic the gestures of kindness and concern, but they were nothing more than hollow echoes of what he could not feel.

the warehouse was his sanctuary, a place where he could revel in his isolation and indulge in the dark thoughts that occupied his mind. here, away from the prying eyes of society, he was free to dissect the nature of his own being and the roles he played. in the flickering light of a solitary bulb, he contemplated the human condition with a dispassionate curiosity. the contradictions of his existence fascinated him—how he could so easily simulate emotions he could never truly experience, how he could manipulate others with a mere flicker of charm, and how he remained untouched by the very forces that drove others to despair or elation.

as he stood amidst the debris, a sense of profound solitude enveloped him. He was a being of intellect and precision, existing in a world of feelings he could never truly grasp. his mind was a labyrinth of strategy and calculation, each thought meticulously honed to serve his purpose. he was a creature of logic in a realm of chaos, a master of a game whose rules he understood but whose essence remained forever beyond his reach.

and yet, despite this chilling detachment, there was an undeniable truth that lingered in the shadows of his consciousness. beneath the veneer of calculated indifference and the mask of emotional vacancy, he was still human. his actions, though devoid of conventional empathy, were driven by a deeply rooted sense of self-preservation and a pursuit of his own desires. in his solitary reflections, there was a flicker of the same existential questioning that plagued the rest of humanity—a search for meaning, a quest for identity, and a confrontation with his own mortality.

in that abandoned warehouse, amidst the debris of a world he navigated with clinical precision, the true nature of his humanity lay bare. it was not in the warmth of human connection or the depth of emotional engagement but in the quiet recognition of his own existence. he was still bound by the same inescapable truths that defined all humans—the quest for understanding, the struggle for control, and the inevitable confrontation with his own limitations. it became clear that despite his chilling detachment and calculated demeanor, he was still human, after all.

jeong jaehyun stumbled out of the warehouse, the weight of his actions pulling him down like a leaden shroud. the night air was crisp and harsh against his skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating gloom he had just escaped. his hands, stained with fresh blood, trembled uncontrollably as he stared at them in horror. the crimson splatters seemed to mock him, painting a grotesque tableau of the violence that had just transpired. each step he took was uncertain, as if the ground beneath him could give way at any moment. his mind raced, trying to make sense of the chaos, but the cold, rational part of him remained eerily detached.

as he wandered onto the street, his disheveled figure moving erratically, a car approached in the distance. jaehyun's gaze was fixed on the bloodied hands, his thoughts mired in a growing sense of doom. the headlights of the car grew brighter, and he vaguely registered the sound of its engine roaring closer. to him, it seemed as though the man in the sky was reaching down to punish him for his sins, an abstract punishment for a crime he felt he could never fully comprehend.

the car’s headlights blinded him as it neared, and with a sudden, frantic lurch, he realized he was standing in the middle of the road. instinctively, he threw up his hands, but the vehicle did not slow. the screech of tires and a sharp, agonized honk pierced the night as you slammed the brakes, narrowly avoiding hitting him. the car skidded to a stop, its headlights illuminating his battered form.

your eyes widened in shock as you took in the sight before you. you rushed out of the car, your heart pounding with adrenaline. jaehyun, in his state of shock and confusion, flinched as you approached. he was convinced that you were another threat, someone who had come to finish what had been started. but as you drew closer, your gaze softening with unexpected concern, he was taken aback.

“get in the car,” you said abruptly, ignoring his stunned expression and the blood on his hands. your tone was calm, almost serene, a stark contrast to the tension that crackled in the air. he stared at you, bewildered. “who are you?”

you didn’t respond immediately. instead, you gestured toward the open car door, a silent invitation. with no better options and an overwhelming sense of dread, he climbed into the back seat, his movements slow and hesitant. as you slid back into the driver’s seat and shut the door, you glanced at him through the rearview mirror. your eyes met his, and to his utter disbelief, you smiled. “why are you helping me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with disbelief. “it’s good karma,” you replied with a gentle, enigmatic smile.

jaehyun stared at you in stunned silence, the absurdity of the situation washing over him. “it’s hard to believe you’d help a stranger everyone wants dead.” you chuckled softly, the sound almost musical. “well, you’d have to keep that a secret. my brother’s a cop.” for the past month, his face had been plastered on the screen of every news channel imaginable, as he had been one of the prime suspects regarding the suicide of a high school teacher. one that turned out to be a homicide in disguise.

his eyes widened in shock, and a heavy silence filled the car. you glanced back at his bloodied hands in the mirror. “you must’ve done it, judging by what just happened,” you said. he shook his head vehemently. “i didn’t do it,” he said, his voice raw and earnest. “i didn’t kill anyone. i gave the guy a good beating, that’s all.”

you smiled softly as you turned into your driveway, the car coming to a smooth halt. “he must’ve deserved it,” you said, your tone light and almost amused. jaehyun sat in stunned silence, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of confusion and fear. as the car settled, he looked at you, a mixture of gratitude and wariness in his eyes. in this fleeting encounter, he had found a peculiar semblance of solace, a stark contrast to the chaos that had so recently defined his life.

you guided jaehyun into your home, your hand gentle yet firm on his arm as he stumbled over the threshold. the dim lighting of your hallway cast long shadows, but there was a warmth in the air that contrasted sharply with the cold, sterile atmosphere of the warehouse he had just left behind. his breath came in short, ragged gasps, and he could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him, thick and suffocating.

“don’t worry,” you said softly, catching his wary glance toward the door. “my brother’s working the night shift. we won’t be disturbed.”

his skepticism lingered in his eyes, a dark cloud of doubt that refused to dissipate. but he nodded, too exhausted and disoriented to argue. you led him further inside, the soft creak of the floorboards the only sound that accompanied your footsteps. the house was modest, cozy, with a lived-in feel that suggested safety, a stark contrast to the barren emptiness he had known for so long. there were framed photos on the walls—smiling faces, captured memories that spoke of a life filled with love and warmth. it was a world so foreign to him, yet so alluring in its simplicity.

you brought him into the bathroom, the light flickering on with a quiet hum. the stark white of the tiles seemed almost too bright against the dark stains on his hands, a brutal reminder of the violence that had so recently unfolded. you turned on the faucet, the water rushing forth in a steady stream, and guided his hands beneath it. the warmth of the water was soothing against his skin, but it did little to wash away the guilt that gnawed at the edges of his mind.

as you gently scrubbed his hands, he watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. there was a calm determination in your expression, a focus that belied the gravity of the situation. you didn’t flinch at the sight of the blood, nor did you recoil in fear. instead, you worked methodically, your touch gentle and sure, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. mever had he encountered someone so sympathetic, so willing to help without question, so utterly fearless in the face of danger.

when his hands were finally clean, you handed him a towel, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. “come with me,” you said, your voice soft and inviting. he followed you down the hallway, past the living room where a small lamp cast a warm glow over the furniture, and into a bedroom. you opened the closet, pulling out one of your brother’s shirts—a simple white button-down, clean and neatly folded. “here,” you said, handing it to him. “it should fit you.”

jaehyun hesitated, the shirt hanging limply from his grasp. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. there was no fear in your gaze, only a quiet understanding that seemed to pierce through the layers of detachment he had built around himself. “because you need help,” you replied simply. “and because i can.”

he studied your face, searching for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive, but found none. there was only sincerity, a rare and precious thing in his world. with a nod, he began to change, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were testing the reality of the situation. you turned your back to give him privacy, busying yourself with gathering the discarded clothes. he slipped into the shirt, the fabric cool against his skin, and as he buttoned it up, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort—a sensation he hadn’t experienced in what felt like a lifetime.

once he was dressed, he looked at you, a question lingering on his lips. “how are you so sure i won’t kill you?” you turned to face him, that same soft smile playing on your lips. “because i know you’re not a killer,” you said, your tone light yet firm, as if the idea was the most obvious truth in the world.

the words struck him like a bolt of lightning, sending a shockwave through his mind. never had he heard those words before—words of belief, of trust. they resonated deep within him, filling a void he hadn’t realized existed. for so long, he had been defined by what others saw in him, by the darkness they projected onto him, but in this moment, you saw something different. and god, did it feel good to hear those words.

you led him to the kitchen next, the warm, inviting space filled with the faint scent of spices and home-cooked meals. he sat down at the table, his body tense and alert, while you moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. the sound of pots and pans clinking together, the hiss of the stove as you lit the burner, the gentle hum of the refrigerator—it all blended into a soothing symphony that lulled his mind into a state of wary calm.

as you cooked, he watched you closely, unable to tear his eyes away. there was a grace to your movements, a quiet confidence that radiated from you. It fascinated him, this effortless display of empathy and care. he wondered how someone could be so willing to help, so fearless for their own safety, when he had seen the worst of humanity.

you placed a simple meal in front of him—a bowl of soup, steaming hot, with a slice of bread on the side. the aroma was comforting, a reminder of something he couldn’t quite place, something from a past life that felt more like a distant dream. he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the smell hit his senses, and his stomach tightened in response.

“thank you,” he said quietly, almost as if the words were foreign to him.

you smiled, watching him as he took his first hesitant bite. there was a vulnerability in his expression, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name. you studied his face, the sharp lines of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, and wondered how someone could seem to lack so much empathy. what had shaped him into this detached, calculating figure? what had stripped away the warmth and left only coldness behind? but despite the questions swirling in your mind, you didn’t pry. you simply let him eat in peace, your presence a quiet reassurance in the background.

when he was finished, you took the dishes away, your movements gentle and unhurried. the night was wearing on, and you could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a heavy burden. you led him to a small guest room, the bed neatly made with fresh linens. it was a modest space, but it was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environments he was used to. “i’ve made up the bed for you,” you said, smoothing out the blankets one last time. “you should get some rest.”

he stood there, hesitant, as if the idea of sleep was something foreign to him. but as he looked at you, your kindness and calm demeanor slowly chipping away at his defenses, he nodded. “thank you,” he said again, the words feeling more natural this time, though still tinged with disbelief.

you gave him one last smile before stepping out of the room, closing the door softly behind you. the silence that followed was almost deafening, and as jaehyun sat on the edge of the bed, his mind raced. he couldn’t rest, not with the chaos swirling in his thoughts. the events of the night replayed over and over, but now they were interwoven with images of you—your calm smile, your gentle touch, your unwavering belief that he was something more than what the world saw.

he lay down, staring up at the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. the bed was too soft, too comfortable, and his mind was too restless. he turned over, his eyes drifting to the door, half-expecting you to return, to tell him it had all been a mistake, that you had seen him for what he really was—a monster, a sociopath, someone incapable of true human connection. but the door remained closed, and the only sound was the faint hum of the house settling around him. in the stillness of the night, jaehyun’s thoughts were consumed by you—his unlikely savior. he couldn’t understand it, couldn’t comprehend why you had helped him, why you had risked so much for someone like him. the warmth of your smile lingered in his mind, a beacon in the darkness that threatened to engulf him. and as he lay there, staring into the void, he realized that for the first time in a long while, he felt something. it wasn’t quite hope, but it was close—a faint glimmer of something better, something he had long since forgotten.

but sleep still eluded him. his mind raced with thoughts of you, and the fear that it was all too good to be true gnawed at him. he couldn’t shake the feeling that this kindness, this sanctuary, would vanish as quickly as it had appeared. but for now, in this quiet room, he allowed himself to believe, if only for a moment, that he wasn’t completely alone in the world.

jaehyun awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. for a moment, he remained still, his mind drifting in the hazy space between sleep and wakefulness. the events of the previous night felt like fragments of a distant dream, too surreal to be real. but as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, the solid reality of his surroundings began to settle in. the warmth of the bed beneath him, the quiet hum of the house, the faint scent of something comforting in the air—it all grounded him, pulling him back to the present.

he turned his head slightly and saw you standing in the doorway, your presence calm and reassuring. you were watching him with a soft smile, as if you had been waiting for him to wake up. the sight of you, so real and tangible, dispelled any lingering doubt he had. this wasn’t a dream. you were real. the kindness you had shown him, the safety you had provided—it was all real.

“good morning,” you greeted him softly, your voice a gentle lull in the quiet room. jaehyun sat up slowly, his body still stiff and sore from the night before. “morning,” he replied, his voice rough from sleep. he hesitated, unsure of what to say next. the words felt heavy on his tongue, weighed down by the unfamiliarity of expressing gratitude. but when he looked into your eyes, the sincerity there made it easier. “thank you, again.”

you shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “there’s no need to thank me, kaehyun. i’m just glad you’re okay.” there was a pause, a silence that felt both comforting and heavy with unspoken words. he broke it first, glancing at the clock on the wall. “i should get going. i have a busy day ahead of me.”

you nodded, understanding, though there was a hint of concern in your eyes. “qre you sure you don’t want any breakfast before you go? it’s no trouble at all.” he shook his head, standing up from the bed and straightening his borrowed shirt. “no, i need to get moving. but i appreciate the offer.”

you walked him to the door, the quiet of the morning enveloping you both as you stepped into the hallway. “take care of yourself,” you said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “i’ll see you around?” jaehyun paused at the doorway, turning to look at you one last time. there was something in your eyes, something that tugged at a place deep inside him that he had long thought dead. he didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to make sense of the connection that seemed to have formed between you in such a short span of time. but he nodded, the gesture small but full of unspoken meaning. “yeah,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “i’ll see you around.”

with that, he stepped out into the cool morning air, the door closing softly behind him. the world outside was still waking up, the streets quiet and the sky painted with the soft hues of dawn. as he walked, the events of the previous night replayed in his mind, each step taking him further from your home but not from the thoughts of you. your kindness lingered with him, a warmth that refused to fade even as the cold morning air bit at his skin.

as jaehyun made his way down the street, lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the car approaching from behind until it slowed down beside him. he glanced over, his eyes locking with those of the driver—a man with a stern expression, his gaze sharp and scrutinizing. there was something familiar about him, something that sent a shiver down his spine. the man’s eyes flicked down to the shirt jaehyun was wearing, recognition dawning in his features. it was your brother.

the moment seemed to stretch on forever, the tension between them palpable in the air. jaehyun’s heart pounded in his chest, the sudden realization that your brother knew who he was, and more importantly, what he was suspected of. he could see the gears turning in your brother’s mind, the connection being made between the shirt jaehyun wore and the one hanging in your brother’s closet. it was a small detail, but it spoke volumes.

the car sped off, leaving jaehyun standing in the middle of the sidewalk, a chill running down his spine that had nothing to do with the morning air. he cursed under his breath, realizing the trouble that was now headed your way. but what could he do? what could he say that would make a difference? he shook his head, forcing himself to keep walking, but the image of your brother’s piercing gaze stayed with him, a stark reminder that his problems were far from over.

meanwhile, your brother drove in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of you and the man he had just seen wearing his shirt. his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his mind filled with the gruesome images from the case that had been haunting him for weeks—the case he was sure jaehyun was involved in. he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that you were in danger, and it was all because of that man.

he pulled into the driveway with a screech, his anger bubbling just below the surface as he stepped out of the car. he slammed the door shut and marched into the house, his footsteps heavy and filled with purpose. the moment he saw you in the kitchen, his eyes narrowed, his voice laced with barely contained fury.

“were you with him?” he demanded, his tone sharp and accusing. you turned to face him, surprised by the sudden intensity in his voice. but you didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. you met his gaze head-on, your own expression calm but firm. “yes,” you admitted, your voice steady. “i was with jaehyun.”

your brother’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “are you out of your mind?” he snapped, the anger finally spilling over. “do you have any idea who that man is? what he’s accused of?” you held your ground, refusing to let his anger sway you. “he didn’t do it,” you said softly, but there was a conviction in your voice that made your brother pause.

“how do you know?” he demanded, his voice rising with frustration. “how can you be so sure he’s not playing you? that he’s not dangerous?” for the first time, you hesitated, the answer on the tip of your tongue but too complicated to put into words. you couldn’t explain the way you just knew, the way you had looked into jaehyun’s eyes and seen something that no one else seemed to see—something that told you he wasn’t capable of the horrors he was being accused of. but how could you explain that to your brother? how could you make him understand?

your silence spoke volumes, and your brother shook his head in disbelief, his expression a mix of anger and fear. “you’re too trusting,” he said finally, his voice tinged with desperation. “you can’t just believe in everyone. this isn’t some fairy tale where the bad guy turns out to be good in the end. this is real life, and people like him, they don’t change.”

“he’s not who you think he is,” you tried to argue, but your brother cut you off, his frustration boiling over. “stay away from him,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “i don’t want you anywhere near him. if you see him again, you call me. do you understand?”

you looked at him, your heart aching at the fear and anger in his eyes. you knew he was only trying to protect you, to keep you safe, but you also knew that he was wrong about jaehyun. but what could you do? you couldn’t fight him on this, not without risking a rift between you. so you nodded, even though every fiber of your being wanted to protest, to argue that jaehyun wasn’t the monster your brother believed him to be. “fine,” you said quietly, your voice tinged with resignation. “i’ll stay away.”

the morning air was thick with the promise of rain as you made your way to the local store. the clouds overhead hung heavy and dark, a stark contrast to the bright resolve in your heart. you had no intention of staying away from jaehyun, no matter what your brother had said. there was something in the way jaehyun looked at you, something in the depth of his eyes that told you he wasn’t what the world believed him to be. your brother’s words echoed in your mind, but they couldn’t drown out the quiet, persistent certainty you felt. so, you went about your day as planned, pretending that nothing had changed, that your brother’s warning wasn’t still ringing in your ears.

the store was quiet when you arrived, the usual hum of life dulled by the oppressive weight of the storm that threatened to break. you wandered the aisles, picking out the things you needed—a few groceries, some toiletries, nothing too out of the ordinary.bBut as you reached for a carton of milk, you couldn’t help but wonder if you should pick up something extra, something you might offer jaehyun should you cross paths with him again. the thought brought a small smile to your lips, a secret shared only with yourself.

your basket filled, you made your way to the register, exchanging pleasantries with the cashier as you paid for your items. the moment you stepped outside, however, you were met with the harsh reality of the storm that had been building all morning. the rain came down in sheets, pounding against the pavement with a ferocity that took you by surprise. you paused just outside the door, bags in hand, as the rain soaked through your clothes almost instantly. you raised an arm to shield your head, but it did little to protect you from the downpour.

you cursed under your breath, glancing around for any cover you could find, but the rain was relentless. it was as if the heavens had opened up, and you were caught in the middle of it with no escape. you shivered, the cold seeping through your clothes, and just as you were about to resign yourself to the wet, uncomfortable walk home, you felt something warm and dry settle over your head.

startled, you looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you found jaehyun crouched beside you, his jacket held above both your heads as a makeshift umbrella. his presence was like a jolt of electricity, unexpected yet oddly comforting. his face was calm, expressionless even, but his actions spoke louder than words ever could. “where did you come from?” you asked, your voice laced with surprise as you stared at him.

he didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed ahead as he guided you under the shelter of his jacket. “it doesn’t matter,” he finally said, his tone flat, almost detached. “you’re going to catch a cold if you stay out here.” there was something so inherently touching in his words, a care that seemed almost out of place given the stoic expression on his face. his voice was devoid of emotion, but the simple act of shielding you from the rain said more than any words ever could.

a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of your lips despite the rain. “you must feel like a gentleman,” you teased lightly, trying to coax a reaction out of him.

he looked at you then, his dark eyes reflecting the storm around you both. “i think it’s better not to feel,” he replied, his voice as calm and steady as the rain pouring down around you. you couldn’t help but scoff, shaking your head slightly. “yeah, right,” you murmured, though there was no real bite to your words. you knew better than that. he might try to hide it, but you could see the turmoil beneath the surface, the conflict he kept buried deep within.

without another word, jaehyun guided you toward the bus stop, his jacket still held protectively over your head. the rain continued to fall in torrents, but the small shelter of the bus stop provided some relief. you both stepped under it, and jaehyun finally lowered his arm, letting the jacket fall to his side.

“thank you,” you said, your voice soft as you looked up at him. the rain had plastered your hair to your face, and you could feel the cold biting at your skin, but you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest at his gesture. “that was really kind of you.” he shrugged, his expression still guarded. “it’s the least i can do.”

there was a pause, the sound of the rain filling the silence between you. you studied him, noting the way his hair clung to his forehead, the way his clothes were as drenched as yours. and yet, there was a quiet strength in him, a resolve that made you believe he would do this all over again if it meant keeping you safe. “are you headed home?” you asked, breaking the silence. he nodded, his gaze flicking to the side before returning to you. “yeah, but i hope to see you soon.”

something about the way he said it, so simple yet so heavy with unspoken meaning, made your heart flutter in your chest. before you could respond, jaehyun turned to leave, the jacket still clutched in his hand. but instead of taking it with him, he draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of the fabric immediately comforting against your cold, wet skin. you opened your mouth to call after him, to tell him to take it back, but before you could get the words out, he was already gone, disappearing into the rain like a ghost. you stood there for a moment, the jacket draped over your shoulders and the scent of him lingering in the air around you. the rain continued to fall, but it was as if the world had gone still, the only sound the steady rhythm of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

you pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, a small smile playing on your lips as you turned back toward the bus stop, the weight of his actions settling over you like a warm blanket. despite everything—your brother’s warnings, the suspicions that surrounded him—you knew you couldn’t stay away from him. there was something in him, something that called to you, something that made you want to believe in him. and as you waited for the rain to let up, you knew deep down that this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

jaehyun’s apartment was a place where silence reigned, a heavy, oppressive silence that seemed to seep into the walls, swallowing any hint of life or warmth. the space was eerily empty, devoid of anything that might give it the feeling of a home. the only light came from a single, bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting long, harsh shadows across the room. the walls were bare, painted a dull, lifeless gray that matched the concrete floor beneath his feet. there was no furniture, save for a single chair in the center of the room, where the cries of a man echoed off the walls, growing louder with each passing second.

the man in the chair struggled against his restraints, his hands tied tightly behind his back, his arms bound to the sides of the chair. q towel was wrapped around his face, tucked cruelly into his mouth, muffling his desperate pleas. his eyes were wild with fear, darting around the room, searching for some escape, some way out of this nightmare. but there was none. the only thing he could see was jaehyun, standing in front of him, his expression as cold and emotionless as the room itself.

his eyes were fixed on the man, unblinking, as he crouched down in front of him, bringing himself to eye level. his face was a mask of indifference, betraying no hint of the thoughts that might be running through his mind. he didn’t speak right away, didn’t acknowledge the man’s muffled cries. instead, he simply watched, his gaze steady and unyielding, as if he were looking right through him, into the very core of his being.

the man’s cries grew louder, more frantic, as he realized there was no mercy in those cold eyes staring back at him. he shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the towel from his mouth, trying to make himself heard, to beg for his life. but jaehyun didn’t move, didn’t react. he simply waited, letting the man exhaust himself in his futile struggle, until finally, his movements slowed, his cries turning to quiet, broken sobs.

and then, in a voice that was almost too calm, too measured, jaehyun spoke. “it’s a shame you told your sister to stay away from me.”

your brother’s eyes widened in horror, his muffled cries returning with a renewed intensity as he realized the gravity of those words. he thrashed against his restraints, but there was no escape. jaehyun remained still, his gaze unwavering as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small, sleek handgun. the metal glinted ominously in the dim light, and the sound of the gun being loaded echoed through the empty apartment like a death knell.

his expression didn’t change as he continued, his voice eerily calm, almost detached. “all of this could’ve been avoided.”

there was no anger in his tone, no trace of the emotions that might accompany such a statement. it was as if he were commenting on the weather, or discussing something as mundane as the time of day. your brother in the chair could only watch in terror, his cries reaching a fever pitch as jaehyun calmly raised the gun, leveling it at his forehead. the silence that followed was deafening, the weight of it pressing down on the room like a suffocating blanket. and then, without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

the sound of the gunshot was deafening in the small, enclosed space, reverberating off the walls with a violence that shook the very air around them. your brother’s head snapped back, his body going limp as the life was extinguished from his eyes in an instant. blood splattered against the walls, dark and wet, staining the dull gray with a stark, vivid red. the room was still again, the only sound the faint, echoing ring of the gunshot that slowly faded into silence.

jaehyun stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as he tucked the gun back into his pocket. his face remained expressionless, devoid of any hint of what he might be feeling. there was no remorse in his eyes, no regret, only a cold, unfeeling detachment as he looked down at the lifeless body slumped in the chair. for a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the man he had just killed, as if contemplating something, though what, no one could say. and then, without a word, without a second glance, he turned and walked away, leaving the apartment as empty and silent as it had been before. the door closed behind him with a soft click, and the only evidence that he had ever been there at all was the body left in his wake.

the silence in your home was a stark contrast to the tension that had lingered in the air earlier. your brother was gone, his absence marked only by the note he had left on the fridge. you saw it the moment you walked into the kitchen, a small scrap of paper taped to the metal door, the words scrawled in his familiar handwriting: “had to pick up a few more shifts because of the case. don’t wait up.” you read the note twice before crumpling it in your hand and tossing it into the trash. it wasn’t unusual for him to be gone, especially with the weight of the ongoing investigation. you brushed off the small twinge of unease that had settled in your chest and tried to push your thoughts elsewhere.

you spent the next hour lounging around the house, flipping through tv channels, but nothing could hold your attention for long. the rooms felt empty, hollow almost, and the silence that once brought you comfort now only served to remind you of the isolation. you moved from the couch to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the bedroom, restless and bored. eventually, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, contemplating your reflection. the idea of heading out had been growing steadily in the back of your mind, a distraction from the loneliness that clung to you like a second skin.

you decided to go to the bar. it wasn’t a place you frequented often, but tonight, the thought of being surrounded by people, the hum of conversation, and the dim lights felt like exactly what you needed. you took your time getting ready, not rushing the process. the dress you chose was one that always made you feel confident, a deep, rich color that clung to your figure in all the right ways. it wasn’t overly revealing, but it had a certain elegance to it, a subtle allure that drew the eye. you spent a few extra moments on your makeup, accentuating your features, adding a touch of color to your lips, and just enough liner to make your eyes pop.

as you stood back to admire your reflection, you couldn’t help but smile at how you looked. stunning, even if it was just for yourself. before you left, you grabbed jaehyun’s jacket, the one he had draped over you in the rain. you wrapped it around yourself, the fabric still carrying the faintest scent of him, a mix of something clean and crisp, yet undeniably masculine. it was comforting, in a way that you couldn’t quite place, as if wearing it provided an extra layer of protection.

the bar was dimly lit, the kind of place where people went to forget the outside world for a while. the warm, amber light filtered through the haze of cigarette smoke, casting soft, flickering shadows across the room. the low hum of chatter and the clink of glasses filled the air, blending together into a background noise that was almost soothing. you found a seat at the bar, ordering yourself a drink and settling into the solitude of your thoughts.

the first sip of your drink warmed you from the inside out, easing the tension in your shoulders as you let yourself relax. the bartender was friendly enough, offering you a smile as he set your drink down in front of you, but he didn’t pry, didn’t ask questions. he could probably tell you were here to be alone, to enjoy your own company, and for that, you were grateful.

you sipped your drink slowly, savoring the burn of alcohol as it slid down your throat, your eyes drifting over the scene around you. people moved through the space in pairs or groups, laughter and conversation flowing freely between them, but none of it reached you. you were content in your bubble of solitude, letting the world fade into the background. but then, out of nowhere, you felt it—a presence behind you, the sensation of someone standing too close, invading your space. you stiffened slightly, your hand tightening around your glass as the man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“hey, beautiful,” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, dripping with the kind of false charm that set your teeth on edge. “what’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone? wouldn’t you rather come home with me?”

you resisted the urge to recoil, instead forcing yourself to stay calm as you replied, “i’m not interested.”

but he didn’t take the hint. his hand grazed your lower back, fingers trailing over the curve of your hip before dropping lower, brushing against your ass with a familiarity that made your skin crawl. “come on,” he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance, “don’t be like that.”

you were about to turn around and shove him away, your irritation boiling over into anger, when suddenly, his touch was ripped away. there was a blur of motion, and before you could fully register what was happening, the man was on the ground, sprawled out at your feet.

jaehyun was on top of him, his expression a mask of cold fury as his fist slammed into the man’s face, again and again, the sickening crunch of bone meeting bone echoing through the bar. the man’s cries of pain were muffled by the impact, blood splattering across the floor as jaehyun’s blows grew more violent, more relentless.

you were frozen in shock, your mind struggling to process the scene unfolding in front of you. jaehyun’s expression was one of terrifying calm, his movements precise and controlled, but there was something in his eyes, something dark and dangerous that sent a chill down your spine.

“jaehyun, stop,” you finally found your voice, reaching out to grab his arm, trying to pull him off the man. but it was like trying to move a mountain—he was immovable, his focus entirely on the task at hand, the brutal act of violence he was committing with such cold detachment. “jaehyun, please!” you pleaded, your voice trembling as you tugged harder at his arm, desperation creeping into your tone.

it wasn’t until you locked eyes with him, your gaze pleading and terrified, that something in him shifted. the hardness in his expression softened ever so slightly, and he paused, his fist hovering in the air, mid-strike. his chest heaved with exertion, and for a moment, the only sound was the ragged breathing of the man beneath him, his face a bloodied mess. slowly, he lowered his fist, his eyes never leaving yours. the bar had fallen silent, all eyes on the two of you, the tension thick and suffocating. the bartender was already on the phone, calling the police, and you knew you had to get jaehyun out of there before they arrived.

you grabbed his hand, your grip firm as you pulled him to his feet. he didn’t resist, allowing you to lead him out of the bar, the two of you pushing through the crowd of stunned onlookers. the moment you stepped outside, the cool night air hit you, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside the bar. you didn’t stop until you were a few blocks away, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing with the events that had just unfolded. you finally let go of his hand, turning to face him, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“what were you thinking?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. he didn’t answer right away. his expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something that told you he wasn’t as unaffected by what had just happened as he appeared to be. he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle given the violence you had just witnessed.

“i couldn’t let him hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice void of emotion, but there was something beneath the surface, something raw and vulnerable that he was trying desperately to keep hidden. you wanted to be angry with him, to demand an explanation, but the words caught in your throat. instead, you found yourself nodding, the adrenaline slowly draining from your system, leaving you feeling weak and shaky.

the night air was cool against your skin as you walked alongside him, leading him back to your house. the streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and the distant sounds of the city seemed to fade away as the two of you walked in silence. your heart was still racing from the events at the bar, but the tension had begun to ebb away, replaced by a heavy, lingering exhaustion. he walked quietly beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. his face was calm, his expression unreadable, but you could sense the turmoil beneath the surface. the adrenaline of the fight had drained away, leaving behind a man who was clearly grappling with something deeper, something darker.

as the two of you neared your house, you felt a knot of anxiety tighten in your chest. you had been turning over your thoughts since you left the bar, trying to find the right words to say. it wasn’t just about what had happened tonight—it was about everything. about the man standing next to you, and the path he seemed to be walking down.

you slowed your pace, eventually coming to a stop at the corner of the street, just a few houses away from your own. jaehyun stopped too, his gaze shifting to you, his eyes dark and questioning. “i need to tell you something,” you said, your voice soft, almost hesitant. the words were difficult to say, but you knew you had to.

he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in concern. “what is it?” he asked, his voice low, steady. you took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “you have to stop what you’re doing, jaehyun. you have to change.”

for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you. the street was empty, the night quiet, and you could hear the distant hum of cars in the background. jaehyun’s expression remained neutral, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a shadow of doubt or fear that he was trying to hide. he turned his gaze away, looking off into the distance. “i don’t think I can,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. there was a heaviness to his words, a resignation that weighed down on your heart.

you reached out, gently touching his arm, drawing his attention back to you. “please, jaehyun. try, for me.”

those last words seemed to hit him harder than anything else you had said. his eyes met yours again, and for the first time since you had met him, you saw something soften in his expression. his cold, guarded exterior cracked just enough for you to see the man beneath, the one who had buried himself under layers of violence and detachment.

slowly, almost imperceptibly, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. it was faint, barely there, but it was real. “i’ll try,” he said, his voice gentler than before. “for you.”

the relief that washed over you was immediate, a wave of warmth that chased away the lingering anxiety in your chest. you smiled back at him, squeezing his arm lightly before letting go. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. with that, the two of you continued your walk, the distance between your house and the corner where you had stopped feeling much shorter now. when you reached your front door, you unlocked it and stepped inside, the familiar comfort of home greeting you as you crossed the threshold. jaehyun followed, closing the door behind him.

the quiet of your home was a stark contrast to the chaos of the bar. it felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven from the outside world, and as you kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket, you could feel the tension in your body begin to ease. you glanced over at jaehyun, who stood near the door, his eyes scanning the room as if taking in every detail. there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, a slight relaxation in his posture, though his eyes remained guarded. he watched you as you moved around the house, his gaze following your every step.

“do you wanna watch something?” you asked, trying to break the silence. you didn’t want him to leave just yet, not when there was still so much unspoken between you. he nodded, his expression softening. “sure.”

you walked over to the living room and settled on the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels until you found something that caught your interest. jaehyun joined you, sitting down beside you, though he kept a respectable distance. the television flickered to life, casting a warm glow across the room. the sound of the show filled the air, but your attention was only half on the screen. you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, noticing the way his eyes occasionally flicked toward you, as if he was trying to understand you, to decipher the thoughts that were running through your mind.

after a while, you got up and went to the kitchen, the idea of cooking something for the both of you suddenly appealing. the act of cooking had always been therapeutic for you, a way to clear your mind and focus on something simple, something tangible. you began gathering ingredients, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease, and you felt Jaehyun’s presence behind you, watching you.

“you don’t have to do that,” he said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. you turned to him, offering a small smile. “i want to. it’s nice to have someone to cook for.”

he didn’t say anything in response, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. there was something almost vulnerable in his gaze, a quiet appreciation that he didn’t know how to express in words. he watched as you moved around the kitchen, his eyes never leaving you, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment. the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, the tension that had once hung between you slowly dissipating. he offered to help, and though he was clumsy in the kitchen, you appreciated the effort. it was a small thing, but it meant more than he could possibly know.

when the food was ready, you brought the plates to the living room, the two of you settling back on the couch to eat. the television continued to play in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. the conversation between you was quiet, subdued, but there was a warmth to it that hadn’t been there before. as you finished your meal, you leaned back against the couch, feeling content and at peace. he set his plate aside and turned to you, his gaze lingering on your face. there was something in his eyes, something soft and unguarded, that made your heart skip a beat.

“you’re— different,” he said quietly, his voice almost reverent. you raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. “different how?”

he didn’t answer right away, his eyes searching your face as if trying to find the right words. “gentle,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “sweet.”

the words were simple, but they carried a weight that made your breath catch. you could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you as if you were something precious, something he didn’t quite know how to handle but was afraid of losing. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was filled with unspoken words, with the quiet understanding that something had shifted between you. something that neither of you were quite ready to acknowledge, but that you both felt all the same.

you reached out, your hand finding his, and you squeezed it gently. “you don’t have to be different with me, jaehyun,” you said softly. “just be you.” a small smile tugged at his lips, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the man he could be—the man he wanted to be, for you.

the night wore on, and as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself slowly succumbing to the warmth of the couch and the soft, comforting murmur of the television. the day’s events had taken their toll, and the quiet, steady presence of jaehyun beside you brought a sense of security you hadn’t realized you were craving. your eyelids grew heavy, each blink becoming slower than the last, until eventually, your head began to tilt to the side. he noticed the subtle shift in your posture, the way your body gradually leaned toward him as sleep claimed you. he stiffened slightly, unsure of what to do. it was new territory for him—uncharted and strange.

he wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, to the softness of another person so near. but as he turned his gaze to you, watching the way your features relaxed into sleep, something inside him shifted. the hardness, the constant alertness that had been ingrained in him for so long, seemed to melt away, leaving behind a quiet, unfamiliar stillness.

you looked so peaceful, so vulnerable. your breathing was slow and steady, your chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. your lips were slightly parted, and a few strands of hair had fallen across your face. he stared at you, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your features—the curve of your cheek, the soft sweep of your lashes, the way your lips curled up just slightly at the corners, as if you were dreaming of something pleasant. for a long moment, he simply watched you, his mind strangely quiet. there was no rush of thoughts, no internal dialogue. just silence. and in that silence, he realized something—he wasn’t just watching you. he was admiring you.

hesitantly, as if testing the waters, he let his hand fall, his fingers hovering just above your skin. he hesitated for a heartbeat, then let his hand drop to your face, his palm brushing against your cheek. the warmth of your skin surprised him, sending a jolt of something foreign through him—something he couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to ignore. his thumb moved of its own accord, tracing the soft curve of your cheekbone. your skin was smooth under his touch, warm and inviting. he didn’t feel the usual surge of aggression that often accompanied physical contact, nor did he feel the emptiness that had become his constant companion. what he felt was something different—something that made his chest tighten and his breath catch in his throat.

his thumb continued its slow, reverent path, moving down to trace the outline of your jaw. the motion was gentle, almost tender, as if he was afraid of waking you or breaking the fragile peace that had settled over the two of you. his gaze lingered on your face, on the soft curve of your lips, the way your lashes fanned out against your skin. he had never really looked at you like this before, never taken the time to truly see you. and now that he was, he couldn’t look away. you were beautiful.

the thought slipped into his mind unbidden, startling him with its intensity. he hadn’t thought much about beauty before—hadn’t allowed himself to. But now, with you asleep beside him, your face relaxed and free of worry, he couldn’t help but think it. you were beautiful in a way that was more than just physical. it was in the way you had looked at him earlier, the way you had asked him to try, for you. It was in the softness of your voice, the gentleness of your touch, the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from you.

he found himself marveling at it, at the way you seemed to make everything else fade away, leaving only this moment, this connection between the two of you. the foreign feeling in his chest grew stronger, spreading through him like a slow-burning fire. it was warm, almost comforting, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel alone. he didn’t feel empty. he felt something.

jaehyun wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, his hand resting against your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. time seemed to stretch, each second blending into the next, until it felt like the whole world had narrowed down to just the two of you, here on this couch, in this quiet, darkened room. eventually, he felt his own eyelids grow heavy, the day’s events catching up to him as well. but he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the connection between you. so he stayed where he was, his hand still resting against your cheek, his body leaning ever so slightly toward yours.

his eyes drifted closed, and he let himself relax, the tension in his shoulders easing as he finally allowed himself to give in to the pull of sleep. the last thing he felt before he drifted off was the warmth of your skin against his palm, and the last thing he saw in his mind’s eye was the peaceful look on your face. and then he was asleep, the two of you side by side on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of quiet, shared warmth.

the morning light filtered in through the half-drawn curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. you stirred slowly, the warmth beneath you unfamiliar yet comforting. qs your eyes fluttered open, you realized that your head was resting in jaehyun's lap. he was still asleep, his breathing steady and deep, his hand resting lightly against your arm as if even in sleep, he was unconsciously holding onto you.

you blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light, and looked around. the apartment was still and quiet, almost eerily so. there was no sign of your brother, and you didn’t know whether to feel concerned or relieved by his absence. part of you expected to hear the familiar sounds of him moving around the house, making coffee or getting ready for the day, but there was nothing. just silence.

your thoughts drifted to jaehyun, and as you shifted slightly in his lap, he began to stir. his eyelids fluttered, and then his eyes opened slowly, blinking against the light. for a moment, he seemed disoriented, as if he had forgotten where he was. but then his gaze settled on you, and a softness crept into his eyes that you had never seen before.

“good morning,” you whispered, your voice still heavy with sleep. “morning,” he murmured back, his voice low and husky. there was a brief silence as you both took in the situation, the strange intimacy of waking up like this.

“i’m sorry,” you began, a little flustered, as you started to sit up. “i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable…” before you could finish, he shook his head, quick and sure. “no, it was great,” he said, his tone almost too earnest. there was a sincerity in his words that made your heart skip a beat.

a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you pushed yourself up and off his lap. the cool air of the room made you shiver slightly, but you shook it off as you stretched. “how about i make us some breakfast?” you suggested, eager to fill the quiet with something other than the racing thoughts in your mind. he nodded, watching you closely as you moved about the kitchen. the normalcy of it all felt surreal—cooking breakfast, making coffee, jaehyun quietly observing you from his place on the couch as if it were the most natural thing in the world. but it wasn’t. nothing about this was normal, and yet, you found yourself wanting to make the most of it. to linger in this moment just a little longer.

you focused on the task at hand, cracking eggs into a bowl, whisking them with a practiced ease. as you poured the mixture into the pan, the sizzle of the eggs against the hot surface filled the silence, and you let out a small, contented sigh. “you shouldn’t work so much,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. his voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that made you pause.

you glanced over your shoulder at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “i like working,” you replied, turning back to the stove. “besides, it keeps my mind busy.” he didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you, studying you, as if trying to understand something that eluded him. the weight of his gaze was almost palpable, and for a moment, you were hyper-aware of every movement you made.

as you continued to work, you didn’t notice jaehyun slowly rising from the couch. he moved quietly, almost predatorily, his eyes never leaving you. there was a tension in his movements, something raw and primal that made him seem like a hunter stalking his prey. but it wasn’t that simple. he wasn’t looking at you like you were prey—he was looking at you like you were something precious, something delicate that needed to be protected. the comparison didn’t even feel right in his mind. no, it was more like he was drawn to you, like you were a rare, blooming flower amidst a field of withering ones. he felt this overwhelming urge to hold onto you, to shield you from the world before you could fade away.

you felt his presence before you saw him, a subtle shift in the air that made you pause. when you turned, your breath caught in your throat as you found him standing so close, his expression intense, yet vulnerable in a way that left you momentarily speechless. his eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by his own actions, but before he could apologize or step back, you smiled up at him, a soft, understanding smile that seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders.

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand half-raised as if unsure whether to reach out to you or not. you shook your head gently, closing the distance between you. “it’s okay,” you whispered back, your voice soothing. your hand came up to rest lightly on his arm, your touch grounding him in a way that nothing else ever had.

the two of you stood there, the air thick with something unspoken, something electric that made your pulse quicken. you stared into each other’s eyes, the rest of the world fading into the background. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the way he was struggling with his emotions, with this unfamiliar territory. and then, without thinking, you leaned in.

it was a small movement, almost imperceptible, but jaehyun noticed. his breath hitched, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, he hesitated. but then, something inside him snapped, and he closed the distance between you, his lips finding yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss. the kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, as if he was afraid of hurting you, of breaking you. but as you responded, your lips moving against his with a quiet urgency, he began to relax. his hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

you felt a rush of warmth flood your chest, your heart pounding in your ears as you kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. the world fell away, leaving just the two of you, connected in a way that felt both thrilling and terrifying. jaehyun’s other hand found your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as he lifted you with ease, placing you on the kitchen counter. the cool surface against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, but you hardly noticed, too caught up in the feel of his lips against yours, in the way his body fit perfectly against yours.

your legs wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. you could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding himself back, afraid of losing control. but you didn’t want him to hold back. you wanted all of him—his strength, his passion, his intensity. when he finally broke the kiss, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. his hands were still on you, one resting on your waist, the other gently brushing the stray hairs from your face.

he looked at you then, really looked at you, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. it was vulnerability, raw and unguarded, as if he was letting you see a part of him that no one else had ever seen. and then, without another word, he kissed you again.

this time, the kiss was more intense, more urgent, as if he was pouring all of his emotions into it. his hands roamed your body, exploring, memorizing every curve, every dip of your skin. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, could feel the way his breath hitched every time you moved. you lost yourself in the kiss, in the feel of him, in the way he made you feel. there was nothing else—no worries, no fears, just the two of you, here in this moment, wrapped up in each other. and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe.

you pulled back slightly, gasping for air, your eyes searching his. “i want you,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. jaehyun’s eyes darkened, his pupils dilating with need. he didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you spoke volumes. you reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the chiseled muscles that lay beneath. your hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

he stepped closer, his hands sliding under your shirt, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. you moaned softly, arching into him as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. you felt his hands unbutton your pants, his fingers deftly unhooking your bra, and a thrill shot through you. this was happening. you were really doing this with him, and it felt right.

his mouth found yours again, his tongue dancing with yours as he pushed your pants down your legs. you stepped out of them, your bare feet brushing against the cold kitchen tiles. he lifted you back onto the counter, his hands supporting your weight as he stepped between your legs. the heat of his body was intoxicating, making you want to melt into him, to never let go.

and then, with one simple movement, he entered you, filling you completely. you gasped, your nails digging into his back as the sensation overwhelmed you. it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before—so raw, so intense, so real. jaehyun’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of pleasure and something else—something deeper, something that made your heart ache.

you moved together, finding a rhythm that felt like it had been written just for the two of you. your bodies were one, moving in perfect harmony, as if they had been made to fit together. there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the quiet moans that slipped from your lips. jaehyun’s movements grew more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening as he pushed deeper, harder.

you could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building, your body tightening around him. “yes,” you moaned, your voice needy. “just like that, jaehyun. don’t stop.” he didn’t. he didn’t stop, didn’t hold back, giving you everything you’d ever wanted from him, everything you hadn’t even known you needed. and when you finally came, it was with his name on your lips, his eyes staring into yours, as if he could see straight into your soul. his own release followed shortly after, his body tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as he buried his face in your neck. you held onto him, feeling his warmth, his breath against your skin. for a moment, you just stayed like that, your bodies still connected, your hearts beating in sync.

once the tremors had subsided, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. there was something in his gaze that was almost apologetic, but you knew it wasn’t for what just happened. it was for everything else—for all the times he’d held back, for all the things he hadn’t said. but in this moment, you didn’t need words. the connection you shared was more than enough.

you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling the tension in his body ease. “it’s okay,” you murmured, stroking his hair. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.” and in that moment, despite his fears, despite the darkness that lurked beneath the surface, jaehyun allowed himself to believe you. because in your arms, he felt like he could finally let go.

the two of you wandered aimlessly through the quiet streets, the afterglow of your shared moment still clinging to the air between you. it was as if time had slowed down, allowing you to savor the warmth that lingered in your chest, the memory of his touch, his kiss, still fresh on your lips. he walked beside you, his steps measured, his gaze forward, yet you could sense the internal battle raging within him. his mind, always calculating, always detached, now struggled to reconcile this newfound vulnerability. he had spent so long keeping everyone at arm’s length, viewing the world through a lens of detachment and apathy. but with you, something was different. you made him feel, and that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

as you walked together, the scenery began to shift. the neighborhood around you changed, becoming less pristine, more worn. the buildings were old, some with peeling paint, others with broken windows patched haphazardly with plastic. the streets were littered with debris, and the once-vibrant graffiti that adorned the walls had faded into dull smudges of color. it was a stark contrast to the warmth you had just shared, and it made you pause.

“do you really live around here?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with concern as you took in your surroundings. he nodded, his jaw clenched as he continued to walk. there was a tension in his posture, a stiffness that hadn’t been there before. he was used to this environment, to the bleakness and the harshness of it, but he wasn’t used to sharing it with someone like you. he wasn’t used to someone seeing this part of his life, this part of him.

you watched him, noting the way his shoulders seemed to draw inwards, as if he were trying to shield himself from your gaze. without thinking, you reached out and took his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together in a simple, yet deliberate act of comfort. the gesture made him falter, his steps slowing as he looked down at your joined hands, surprise flashing in his eyes.

“you should come over to my place more often,” you said softly, offering him a smile that was both gentle and reassuring. “you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

he stared at you, as if trying to comprehend why you would offer something like that, why you would want him around more, especially after seeing where he lived. but instead of questioning it, he found himself nodding, the words of agreement slipping past his lips before he could overthink them. “i’d like that.”

you both walked in silence for a while longer, your hands still entwined, the weight of the world seemingly lighter with him beside you. eventually, you found yourselves at one of the old buildings, a towering structure with crumbling bricks and rusted fire escapes. jaehyun led you up the narrow stairwell, your footsteps echoing in the confined space, until you reached the rooftop.

the view from up here wasn’t the kind you’d typically associate with beauty. the streets below were cracked and dirty, the buildings surrounding you worn and decaying, the air heavy with the scent of pollution. but with jaehyun beside you, it didn’t matter. the two of you stood at the edge, looking out at the cityscape, the sun slowly sinking behind the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint, sparking it up with the ease of someone who had done it countless times before. he took a slow drag, the smoke curling around his lips before he offered it to you, a glint of something playful in his eyes. you raised an eyebrow, hesitant. you had never been one to indulge in substances like this, and the thought of him relying on them made you uneasy. but you could see the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken dare. he was testing you, trying to see how far you would go for him, if you were willing to step into his world, even if just for a moment.

with a small sigh, you took the joint from his hand, surprising him. “you promised me you’d try to be better,” you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. “i can try for you too.”

he blinked, clearly taken aback by your words, by the way you seemed so willing to step out of your comfort zone just for him. there was something about the way you said it, something so sincere, that it shook him to his core. he watched, almost in disbelief, as you brought the joint to your lips and inhaled. the smoke burned your lungs, and you coughed, but you tried again, this time more carefully, letting the warmth spread through your chest.

his heart skipped a beat as he saw you struggle to relax, trying to embrace something foreign to you, all for his sake. he had never expected this. never expected anyone to believe in him the way you did.

“i’m serious,” he said after a moment, his voice low, almost reverent. “about being better for you.” you exhaled slowly, the smoke leaving your lungs as you looked at him, your eyes soft and full of trust. “i know,” you whispered, and when he asked how you could be so sure, you simply smiled.

“i believe in you,” you replied, and those simple words made his heart flutter in a way he had never experienced before. it was a strange sensation, almost alien to him. he had spent so long feeling nothing, so long numbing himself to the world, and yet here you were, making him feel again.

the two of you passed the joint back and forth, the world around you beginning to blur and soften. the harsh edges of reality dulled, replaced by a warm haze that made everything feel distant, dreamlike. you were faded. the tension that had once been so present between you now melted away, replaced by a deep, shared connection that pulsed between you like a living thing. your limbs felt heavy, your thoughts slow and languid, but you didn’t mind. not when you were leaning against his shoulder, the weight of his arm around you, the warmth of his body grounding you. the world below might have been crumbling, but up here, with him, you felt safe.

jaehyun, too, felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. love, or something close to it, something that made his heart swell and his mind quiet. he had always been a predator in his own world, moving through life with a cold detachment, taking what he wanted without care for the consequences. but with you, it was different. with you, he felt like he had found something worth protecting, something worth holding onto.

he glanced down at you, your head resting against his shoulder, your eyes half-lidded with the haze of the high. you looked peaceful, content, and it made something inside him soften. he wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to feeling so tender, so vulnerable. but he didn’t hate it. not with you.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere, though he wasn’t sure if you heard him. maybe it didn’t matter. maybe you already knew. the two of you sat there in comfortable silence, the city below forgotten, the worries of the world slipping away. and as the sky darkened, the stars slowly appearing above, you both drifted into a quiet, shared peace, content to simply be in each other’s presence.

the days that followed your shared moment on that rooftop were different for jaehyun. the world seemed clearer, sharper, as if a fog had lifted, revealing all that he had been missing. his mind, usually so cold and calculating, now buzzed with an energy he hadn't felt in a long time. it was an unfamiliar sensation, but not an unwelcome one.

he didn’t want to die. not anymore. not when he finally had something—someone—worth living for. the darkness that had clung to him for so long, the apathy that had guided his every move, began to recede. the idea of losing himself to that darkness, of losing you in the process, terrified him more than anything.

for the first time in his life, he found himself actively avoiding the situations that once drew him in like a moth to a flame. he no longer sought out the chaos, no longer indulged in the reckless behaviors that had defined him for so long. the streets that once called to him with their promises of violence and danger now seemed empty, devoid of meaning. he didn’t want to get caught up in any more bad situations. he didn’t want to risk losing you. instead, he spent his days with a newfound purpose, a resolve to be better, to be someone you could trust, someone you could love. he found himself thinking of you constantly, your voice, your smile, the way you made him feel alive in a way he had never known before. every thought of you strengthened his resolve, reminding him of what was at stake. but the shadows of his past were not so easily escaped.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, jaehyun found himself alone, standing in an empty alleyway. the air was heavy with the scent of asphalt and exhaust, the quiet hum of the city in the distance. he sparked a cigarette, the familiar burn of nicotine filling his lungs as he leaned against the brick wall, lost in thought.

the sound of footsteps echoed in the alley, and he tensed, his senses sharpening. a woman’s voice cut through the silence, cold and commanding. “i know what you did.”

he turned slowly, his expression calm, controlled, as if her words hadn’t fazed him. the woman stood at the mouth of the alley, her uniform crisp, her badge glinting in the fading light. her gaze was steady, unyielding, as she looked at him with a mixture of disdain and certainty. he took another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke curl around him as he met her gaze. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

she scoffed, her lips curling into a mirthless smile. “oh, i think you do. you killed him.”

his heart skipped a beat, but his face remained impassive, betraying nothing. his mind raced, analyzing, calculating his next move. he could feel the familiar pull of violence, the urge to silence her before she could say anything more. it would be so easy, so quick. but then he thought of you, of the promise he had made, and the darkness inside him hesitated.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated, his voice steady, almost bored.

the officer’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. “it’s a shame. i wonder what your girlfriend would say if she knew you killed her brother.”

her words hit him like a sledgehammer, but he didn’t let it show. the cigarette burned between his fingers, but he didn’t move. the urge to attack her, to end this threat to his new life, surged within him, his muscles tensing, ready to spring. he could see it in his mind’s eye—grabbing her by the throat, the life draining from her eyes as she gasped for air. he could feel the adrenaline, the rush that came with the kill.

but then he saw your face, the way you had looked at him, the trust in your eyes. the thought of you finding out, of seeing the darkness in him, made his heart ache in a way he wasn’t used to. he couldn’t do it. mot because he was afraid of the consequences, but because he had promised you. he had promised to be better. so, he did something he had never done before. he walked away.

he dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his heel as he turned his back on the officer, on the temptation to give in to the darkness. every step he took away from her was a victory, a defiance of the person he used to be. the officer’s voice echoed in the alley, taunting, trying to goad him into a reaction. but he didn’t stop. for the first time in his life, he walked away from a fight, from the violence that had always defined him. and as he walked, he felt a strange sense of relief, a lightness that he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling.

he didn’t look back. he didn’t need to. he had made his choice, and it was a choice for you, for the life he wanted to build with you. the darkness would always be a part of him, lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of weakness. but for now, he was stronger. for now, he had something worth fighting for, something worth living for. and he wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from him. not even himself.

the days without your brother's presence felt like an eternity. every hour that passed was heavier than the last, each second a weight pressing down on your chest. the apartment, once filled with the sounds of his laughter, his footsteps, his voice, now felt eerily silent, as if the walls themselves were mourning his absence. you tried to carry on as if nothing was wrong, telling yourself that he was just busy, that he would walk through the door any moment, but deep down, you knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.

anxiety gnawed at you, a relentless, gnawing ache that twisted your stomach into knots. the pit in your stomach only deepened with each passing day. sleep was no longer a comfort but a battlefield where your worst fears came to life. you couldn't eat, couldn't focus, your mind constantly replaying the last time you saw him, wondering if you missed some sign, some warning that this would happen.

you tried to keep it together, to stay strong, but the fear was overwhelming. it was like a storm inside you, building in intensity until you felt like you might break apart. you needed someone, anyone, to tell you that everything would be okay, even if it was a lie. you needed comfort, a lifeline, something to anchor you before you were swept away by the tidal wave of grief and fear.

without thinking, your fingers found your phone, dialing a number that had become all too familiar. the ringing in your ear was a small lifeline, a thread connecting you to the one person who had come to mean so much to you in such a short time. the moment you heard jaehyun's voice on the other end of the line, calm and steady, you felt the dam inside you break.

“is something wrong?” he asked immediately, his voice tinged with a concern that was still new to him, still unfamiliar.

you tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the sobs that you had been holding back for days. when you finally managed to get the words out, they were broken, fragmented, spilling out in a rush of desperation and fear. “something's wrong, jaehyun. i haven't seen my brother for days. he hasn't called, hasn't texted. i just know something’s happened, i can feel it.”

on the other end of the line, jaehyun was silent, but the sound of your cries cut through him like a blade. this grief, this sorrow that was not his own, was foreign to him, a bitter poison that seeped into his veins, paralyzing him with its weight. he was used to dealing with pain in others, usually inflicted by his own hand, but this, this was different. it was raw, unfiltered, and it made something inside him recoil, as if the grief itself was a living thing, clawing at his insides.

he wanted to make it stop, to ease your pain, but he didn’t know how. his mind raced, searching for the right words, the right thing to say, but all he could think of was the emptiness, the coldness that had always been his companion. he didn’t know how to comfort, didn’t know how to soothe. all he knew was that he couldn’t stand hearing you like this, couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering.

“he’s probably just busy,” he said, his voice softer than it had ever been. “you know how it is with work, sometimes it just takes over. I’m sure he’s fine. he’ll be back soon, and everything will be okay.”

he didn’t believe the words himself, but he needed you to believe them. he needed you to find some peace, some solace in the chaos that was tearing you apart. as he spoke, he could hear your breathing start to calm, your sobs quieting as his words wrapped around you like a fragile, protective shield.

“thank you, jaehyun,” you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with a small, fragile hope. “thank you for being there for me.” he felt something tighten in his chest, a sensation he didn’t recognize, a mixture of relief and something darker, something more dangerous. grief, foreign and unwelcome, twisted inside him, but it wasn’t the grief he felt for your brother, it was something else entirely. it was grief for you, for the pain you were in, for the vulnerability in your voice that made him want to protect you, to shield you from everything that could hurt you.

but grief was not something he was familiar with, not something he knew how to control. it festered inside him, turning, twisting, until it morphed into something more familiar—anger. his fingers tightened around the phone as he ended the call, his jaw clenching as the unwanted emotions surged through him, overwhelming his usual calm.

the aggression that had always been his default response, the darkness that had always been his shield, rose up inside him, demanding release. he stood abruptly, the chair in his room toppling over as he kicked it, the loud crash echoing in the small space. it wasn’t enough. the rage that had been born of grief and fear was a fire that demanded more destruction, more violence, but he fought it back, swallowing it down as he stood there, panting, his hands clenched into fists. but for all the rage that burned inside him, one thing was clear: he couldn’t let it consume him. not now. not when you needed him. he had to be strong, had to be better, for you. the darkness was still there, lurking just beneath the surface, but for now, he forced it down, buried it deep where it couldn’t touch you, where it couldn’t hurt you. for now, all he wanted was to be the person you needed him to be. and for the first time, that thought, that desire, was stronger than the darkness that had always defined him.

the weight of grief sat heavy on jaehyun’s chest, an unfamiliar sensation that gnawed at the edges of his sanity. he wasn’t used to this kind of emotional turmoil, this festering darkness that seemed to grow with each passing hour. the sorrow he felt wasn’t even his own—it was yours. but it had seeped into him, taken root, and now it was twisting into something he could hardly control.

he had tried to push it down, to bury it beneath layers of cold detachment, but it clawed its way back up, demanding to be felt, to be acknowledged. the grief wasn’t something he knew how to deal with, and so it quickly turned into anger. raw, burning anger that made his blood boil and his hands tremble. anger at your brother for dying, anger at himself for killing him, and anger at the world for making him feel so helpless.

he paced the small confines of his apartment, the walls closing in on him as his thoughts raced, each one darker than the last. his mind replayed your voice, the way it had broken over the phone, and it only fueled the fire inside him. he clenched his fists, trying to focus on anything else, anything that would take the edge off the searing rage that threatened to consume him.

just as he felt like he was about to lose control, a sharp knock on the door echoed through the room, cutting through the silence like a blade. his breath hitched, and he stopped in his tracks, his entire body tensing as the knock came again, louder, more insistent. he knew who it was even before he opened the door, a cold dread settling in his gut.

when he swung the door open, there she was—the police officer from before, her cold, piercing gaze locking onto his the moment the door creaked open. her presence was a reminder of the reality he was trying so hard to ignore, a reminder of the violence that simmered just beneath his skin.

“jaehyun,” she greeted, her voice dripping with the same disdain she had shown before. “i told you, i know what you did.”

his jaw tightened, and he forced himself to remain calm, to keep his emotions in check. he met her gaze with a cold, unreadable expression, trying to play it off like her words didn’t affect him, like he didn’t care about the accusations she was hurling his way. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. but even as he spoke, his mind was racing, trying to figure out how to get rid of her, how to make her go away before the anger boiling inside him erupted.

she scoffed, taking a step into the room, her eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. “don’t play dumb with me. i know you killed him. and it’s only a matter of time before the truth comes out.” the anger flared again, hot and uncontrollable, and he had to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself from lashing out. he could feel the darkness rising inside him, the need to silence her, to make her stop talking, stop threatening the life he was trying so hard to protect.

“it’s a shame,” she continued, her voice taunting, as if she could sense his inner turmoil and was reveling in it. “i really do wonder what your girlfriend will say when she finds out.”

her words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. the mention of you, of your connection to this, was like a match to gasoline, igniting the fury inside him to a level he had never experienced before. it wasn’t just anger anymore—it was pure, unadulterated rage, and it was directed at the woman standing in front of him. he wanted to strike out, to hurt her, to make her pay for the pain she was causing, but he hesitated. your voice, soft and pleading, echoed in his mind, a reminder of the promise he had made to you. he had promised to be better, to control himself, for you. but the rage was too much, too powerful, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

before he could think, before he could rationalize, he reached for the gun he had hidden away, the cold metal heavy in his hand. his movements were automatic, driven by instinct, by the need to protect what was his. the officer’s eyes widened in shock as she saw the weapon, but she didn’t have time to react. his finger squeezed the trigger, and the deafening sound of the gunshot echoed through the small apartment, shattering the silence.

she crumpled to the floor, the life leaving her eyes in an instant. the sight of her lifeless body, blood pooling around her, hit him like a tidal wave, washing away the anger and leaving only cold, stark reality in its wake. he stared at her, his breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps, as the full weight of what he had done crashed down on him.

the gun slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor as he stumbled back, his heart pounding in his chest. this wasn’t supposed to happen. he wasn’t supposed to lose control like this, not when he had promised you that he would be better. but it was too late now—what was done was done, and there was no going back.

panic surged through him, a cold, paralyzing fear that gripped him by the throat. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, all he could see was the blood, the lifeless body that lay at his feet. and all he could think about was you, and how this would destroy you. his trembling hands fumbled for his phone, and he dialed your number with shaky fingers, his heart racing as he waited for you to pick up. when your voice came through the line, soft and filled with concern, it was like a lifeline, pulling him back from the brink of complete despair.

“jaehyun?” you asked, your voice gentle but tinged with worry. “what’s wrong?” he couldn’t find the words at first, his throat tightening with a mix of fear and guilt. when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, filled with a desperation he couldn’t hide.

“i made a mistake,” he choked out, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “i didn’t mean to.”

your alarmed silence on the other end only heightened his panic, and he could hear you moving, the sound of rustling as you hurried to get ready. “i’m coming over,” you said quickly, your voice filled with determination. “i’ll be there as soon as i can. just hold on, jaehyun. i’m on my way.”

as the line went dead, jaehyun stared down at the body on his floor, the reality of what he had done crashing down on him with relentless force. he knew there was no escaping this, no undoing what had been done. the darkness he had tried so hard to keep at bay had finally won, and now he was left to face the consequences. but all he could think about was you, and the look in your eyes when you found out what he had done. the guilt, the shame, and the fear were almost too much to bear, but he had to hold on. he had to see you one last time, even if it meant facing the truth of what he had become.

the frantic pounding of your heart echoed in your ears as you burst into jaehyun’s apartment, breathless and disheveled. the sight that greeted you was a horrific tableau of chaos and blood—a scene straight out of your worst nightmares. the lifeless body of the police officer lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading beneath her. the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, mingling with the acrid tang of gunpowder.

you froze for a moment, the reality of the scene crashing down on you like a tidal wave. jaehyun stood in the center of the room, his face a mask of anguish and disbelief. his eyes were wild, darting from you to the body on the floor, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “jaehyun,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips. the sheer horror of the scene gripped you, tightening around your chest like a vice. tears sprang to your eyes, but you forced them back, focusing on the man you had come to care for.

he stumbled towards you, his hands reaching out as if to grasp at some semblance of control. “i’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “i didn’t mean to—” before he could finish, you raised a hand, shaking your head with a numb acceptance. “it’s okay,” you said softly, though your voice was strained. “i knew you couldn’t change immediately.”

the words seemed to hit him like a physical blow. his eyes widened, disbelief etched into every line of his face. he looked as though he was teetering on the edge of a precipice, struggling to hold on to whatever shreds of composure he had left.

“please,” he pleaded, desperation flooding his voice. “get angry at me. yell at me. hit me. do something—”

you shook your head, your expression remaining resolute and eerily calm. in the midst of the chaos and the gore, you stood before him, the emotional turmoil contained within you like a storm waiting to break. he looked at you, his gaze searching for some sign of the anger or reproach he so desperately wanted from you. but your face remained a blank canvas, betraying nothing of the inner storm.

finally, he broke, his voice a strained whisper. “i killed your brother.”

the words hung heavy in the air between you, their impact undeniable. for a moment, time seemed to stand still. the intensity of the admission, combined with the grotesque reality of the scene, threatened to overwhelm you.

you took a deep breath, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. “i know.”

the utter shock on his face was almost palpable. he stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to comprehend the depth of your reaction—or lack thereof. the warmth that had once graced your features had vanished, replaced by a stoic mask of acceptance.

“why?” jaehyun asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “why would you love me and stay with me if you knew everything?” the question was raw, an unspoken plea for understanding that cut to the heart of his own struggle. you took a step closer, your eyes softening as you looked at him.

“because i believe in you,” you said quietly. “i knew you were trying. i knew that change takes time, and that sometimes, sometimes we falter.” the shock in his eyes deepened, his face a canvas of confusion and disbelief. the realization that you had accepted him despite everything, despite the monstrous act he had committed, was almost too much for him to process.

he swallowed hard, the weight of his guilt and remorse pressing down on him with suffocating force. “i’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice breaking with raw emotion. without another word, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. the contact was gentle but firm, a silent promise that despite the horror and the pain, you were still there for him. you could feel him trembling against you, the strong, powerful man reduced to a fragile shell of his former self.

“it’ll all be okay,” you murmured into his ear, your voice filled with quiet conviction. he wanted to live, for the first time in forever. you wanted to live. you wanted to live alongside him, it was all you wanted. you wanted to live.

jaehyun clung to you, his breaths coming in shuddering gasps. the reality of what he had done seemed to sink in fully now, and he was left with nothing but the crushing weight of his actions and the glimmer of hope that you represented. as you held him, the enormity of the situation began to settle, the darkness that had enveloped him slowly giving way to the fragile light of your presence.

the room was filled with an oppressive silence, the heavy weight of the aftermath pressing down on both of you. as you slowly pulled away from jaehyun, his eyes locked onto yours, full of a mix of desperation and confusion. but your attention was drawn to the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs. the tension in the air thickened as an officer burst into view, gun drawn, her expression grim and unyielding.

your heart pounded in your chest, a cold rush of fear gripping you. jaehyun’s gaze followed yours, and for a moment, his eyes widened with understanding, but it was already too late. without thinking, you stepped in front of him, your back facing the officer. the metallic clink of the gun being aimed, the sharp inhale of breath—it all happened in a blur.

time seemed to stretch as you felt a searing pain erupt in your chest, the bullet tearing through your body with a sickening impact. the pain was intense but fleeting, a sharp, fiery stab that left you gasping for breath. the world around you dimmed, a curtain of darkness falling over your vision as you staggered forward. jaehyun’s face contorted in horror and disbelief as he saw you fall, his body moving with a frantic, desperate energy. “no,” he managed to speak, but the sound was swallowed by the cacophony of the moment.

before you could fully collapse to the floor, the officer's gun fired again, the bullet striking jaehyun. he crumpled to the ground beside you, the force of the impact causing him to drop like a ragdoll. the room seemed to close in on itself, the world narrowing to the pain and the two of you lying together on the cold, unforgiving floor.

the silence that followed was filled with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled promises. your breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, each one more difficult than the last. jaehyun's eyes, once so full of anger and torment, were now filled with an aching sorrow as he stared at you. his tears began to fall, mingling with the blood that stained the floor around you.

with trembling hands, you reached out to him, your fingers brushing against his cheek. his face was a mixture of agony and tenderness as he leaned into your touch, placing his cheek against your hand. the world around you continued to blur and fade, the edges of reality dissolving into darkness.

“i love you,” you managed to whisper, the words escaping your lips with a fragile strength.

jaehyun’s tears fell freely now, his entire being shuddering with the depth of his emotion. “i love you too,” he croaked, his voice cracking with the weight of the confession.

in those final, fleeting moments, the world seemed to dissolve into a haze of shadows and fading light. the pain, the fear, the anguish—all of it began to slip away, replaced by a deep, comforting warmth as you clung to the last remnants of consciousness. jaehyun's presence beside you was a bittersweet comfort, a connection that transcended the immediate horrors of the situation.

as your vision dimmed and the darkness began to consume you, you felt a final, overwhelming sense of peace. the last thing you saw was jaehyun’s tear-streaked face, and the last thing you heard was his whispered confession of love, a promise that would linger even as the world faded away.

✧.*

a/n: goodbye this made me so sad

under the moon (달 아래) — kim namjoon (김남준)

this is part one, part two can be found here

✧.*

life had unraveled like the frayed edges of a delicate drapery. each thread that once held your world together seemed to have slipped through your fingers, leaving you grasping at memories that no longer felt like your own. the air had grown heavier, thick with a silence that pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe. colors that once brightened your days had faded to muted shades, as if the world itself had lost its vibrancy, reflecting the numbness that settled deep within you.

time moved differently, stretching endlessly in moments that felt like they would never end, yet slipping away in a haze when you tried to grasp it. nights bled into days, marked only by the quiet echoes of thoughts you couldn’t quite escape, thoughts that circled in your mind like a storm you couldn’t find shelter from. you were adrift, untethered, as if the solid ground you once stood on had crumbled beneath your feet, leaving you suspended in a void where nothing made sense.

even the simple things, the ones you had taken for granted, felt foreign and out of reach. laughter sounded distant, like a memory of a dream you weren’t sure you ever had. the warmth of sunlight on your skin felt like a distant echo of a comfort you could no longer feel. you had become a stranger in your own life, watching from a distance as it fell apart, powerless to stop the pieces from scattering.

you sat on the docks, your feet dangling over the edge, barely touching the cold, dark water below. the wooden planks were weathered and rough beneath you, each one holding the memory of countless others who had sat here before, lost in their own thoughts. the day was heavy with the scent of salt and seaweed, the gentle lapping of the waves the only sound breaking the silence. above, the sky was a vast expanse of blue, dotted with stars that seemed too far away to matter.

in your hand was a bottle of soju, the cool glass damp from the night air. you had been nursing it for a while, taking slow, deliberate sips, letting the burn settle in your chest before swallowing it down like a bitter truth. each sip felt like a small rebellion against the ache that had taken residence in your heart, but it did little to numb the pain.

the events of the past few days replayed in your mind, each one sharper than the last. you had trusted him, loved him with a fierceness that scared you at times. but he had left you, not just abandoned, but burdened with the weight of his debt—debts you hadn’t even known existed until the collectors came knocking. and as if that betrayal wasn’t enough, he had left you for your best friend. confronting her had been like walking into a nightmare. the hurt in her eyes when you accused her, the way she had looked at you with pity, not guilt. you had expected an apology, a confession that she had made a mistake, but instead, she had stood by him, unwavering. his mother’s arrival had only made things worse, her voice shrill and unforgiving as she berated you, her book club friends nodding along, their eyes filled with judgment. you hadn’t meant to cause a scene, but their anger, their righteousness, had pushed you out, sent you running until you found yourself here, alone.

you took another long drink from the bottle, the alcohol warming your throat as it went down, but leaving a cold emptiness in its wake. the docks had always been your refuge, a place where you could escape the noise of the world, but tonight, even the quiet seemed to mock you. you stared out at the horizon, the lights of the distant city blinking like tiny, indifferent stars, and you wondered how everything had gone so wrong.

a rustle caught your attention, and you glanced to your side. across from you, not too far away, sat a homeless man, his clothes tattered and worn, his face weathered by years of hardship. his eyes, however, were sharp, and they were fixed on the bottle in your hand. he didn’t say anything, just watched you with a mix of curiosity and hunger, and you could see the desire for a drink etched in the lines of his face. you sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of everything that had happened, and without a word, you extended the bottle towards him. he hesitated for a moment, then shuffled closer, his movements slow and deliberate. he took the bottle from your hand with a nod of thanks, but still, neither of you spoke.

the silence stretched between you, thick and impenetrable, as he took a swig from the bottle. you watched him, noting the way his hands trembled slightly as he drank, the way his eyes closed for a brief moment as the alcohol slid down his throat. he settled beside you, the two of you sitting in a shared, unspoken understanding of the night’s loneliness.

“do you ever wish you could sleep for the next hundred years?” you asked suddenly, your voice barely louder than a whisper. the words had slipped out before you could stop them, a quiet admission of the exhaustion that had seeped into your bones. you didn’t expect an answer, and the man didn’t offer one. he continued to stare out at the water, the bottle now resting in his lap, his silence a mirror to your own thoughts.

but you couldn’t stop. the words kept spilling out, each one tugged from the depths of your sorrow. “life is awful,” you continued, your voice cracking with the weight of the truth. “every time i think it’s getting better, it just gets worse. it’s like some cruel joke, this constant cycle of hope and disappointment.” the man didn’t move, didn’t even look at you. his silence was deafening, yet somehow comforting in its neutrality. he wasn’t there to judge or console, just to listen—or maybe, not even that. perhaps he was just a presence, a reminder that you weren’t entirely alone, even if it felt like it.

your voice faltered, and you felt the first sting of tears burning at the corners of your eyes. you tried to hold them back, to swallow the sobs that were building in your chest, but it was useless. the dam broke, and you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking with the force of your cries. the tears were hot against your skin, your sobs muffled as you tucked your head between your knees, trying to make yourself as small as possible, to disappear into the night.

for a long while, the only sound was your crying, the grief pouring out of you in waves. the man remained silent, his gaze now fixed somewhere in the distance, as if he was watching a world that neither of you could see. you didn’t expect him to comfort you, didn’t even want him to. all you needed was to release the pain that had been choking you since everything had fallen apart.

when your tears had subsided into soft, hiccupping breaths, the man shifted beside you. he sighed, a deep, resigned sound, and for the first time, he spoke. his voice was rough, like gravel being dragged across pavement, but there was a quiet wisdom in it, a hard-earned understanding of the world. “life won’t get better just because you want it to,” he said, his words hanging in the cold air between you. he didn’t offer any more than that, no advice or platitudes, just the blunt truth that he had learned over years of hardship.

he stood up slowly, the bottle now empty in his hand, and he moved a few feet away, curling up on the wooden planks with his back to you. you watched as he settled down, pulling a tattered blanket around himself, his body already relaxing into sleep. the conversation was over, and you were left alone again, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. you stared at the empty spot beside you, where the bottle had rested just moments before, and felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. life wouldn’t get better just because you wanted it to, but you hadn’t given up wanting, not yet.

you stood on the edge of the docks, the wooden planks beneath your feet creaking softly as you stared out at the water. the sun hung low in the sky, its golden light casting long, warm reflections on the rippling surface of the bay. the distant murmur of the city seemed to fade as your gaze followed the gentle dance of the waves, their rhythmic motion both calming and hypnotic. it was then you heard it—a sudden splash that jolted you from your reverie.

you turned swiftly, eyes scanning the dock for the source of the disturbance. panic gripped you as you spotted a small figure struggling in the water. a little boy, no older than six, flailed desperately, his tiny arms reaching out as he bobbed helplessly. his parents, oblivious to the danger, chatted animatedly on the dock, their laughter ringing hollow in the midst of the growing crisis.

your heart raced, and you glanced over at the homeless man who usually occupied a corner of the docks. he lay slumped against a crate, fast asleep, his tattered coat pulled tightly around him. desperation surged through you as you realized the responsibility of the moment fell squarely on your shoulders. you cursed under your breath, frustration and fear mingling as you pushed yourself into action.

without a second thought, you sprinted toward the edge of the dock. the world seemed to blur around you as you dove into the cold, dark water. the shock of the chill hit you hard, and for a split second, you were enveloped in a freezing embrace. the surface above you shimmered faintly, growing dimmer as you plunged deeper. your limbs cut through the water with urgency, each stroke bringing you closer to the struggling boy.

when you finally reached him, his face was etched with sheer terror, his eyes wide and glassy. you grabbed him firmly, wrapping your arms around his small, shivering body. he clung to you with a vice-like grip, his sobs muffled by the water. you kicked with all your might, pushing upwards, determined to get him to safety. as you breached the surface, the dimming light of the sun cast eerie shadows across the water. you could see the boy’s father now, his face a mask of fear and urgency as he maneuvered a small raft toward you. with a final burst of energy, you managed to get the boy onto the raft. the father, his face etched with gratitude, reached out a hand towards you.

you were about to grasp it when you noticed something strange. the sun, which had been steadily sinking, was now obscured by an enormous, dark shadow. your gaze followed the shadow up, and your breath caught in your throat. the sun was being eclipsed, a celestial body slipping between you and its light. the sky darkened abruptly, the shadow growing ever larger, swallowing the golden hue with an ominous, encroaching blackness.

panic gripped you anew as the raft’s father shouted at you to take his hand. but before you could respond, a strange, powerful force seemed to pull at you from below. the water beneath you churned violently, dragging you down with an insistent, merciless strength. the familiar warmth of the sun’s rays was now a distant memory, replaced by the encroaching darkness. you struggled against the pull, but the force was overwhelming. as you descended, the water around you grew darker and colder. You glanced up one last time, the surface above you now a faint, distant blur. the sun was gone, and the moon seemed to press down on you with an oppressive, unyielding presence.

in the depths of the water, you began to see fleeting, fragmented visions—glimpses of your best friend, their face full of concern; your boyfriend, looking at you with eyes filled with love and worry. these images flickered like memories on the brink of dissolution, fading in and out as you sank deeper and deeper. the darkness enveloped you, the water now a viscous black void. you reached out, but there was nothing to grasp, nothing to hold onto. the last remnants of light slipped away, and with a final, desperate gasp, everything went black.

the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the bustling streets of the goryeo dynasty's capital. a palpable excitement filled the air as the crowd gathered, their murmurs rising to a crescendo as they awaited the arrival of the imperial procession. the cobblestone streets seemed to vibrate with anticipation as the riders galloped in, their horses' hooves striking the ground in rhythmic beats. the crowd parted respectfully, creating a clear path for the approaching figures.

the lead rider, whose face was partially obscured by an ornate mask, exuded an aura of authority. despite the mask, his commanding presence was unmistakable. as he drew closer, the mask was subtly lifted, revealing the sharp features of kim namjoon, the fourth imperial prince of goryeo. his eyes, sharp and discerning, surveyed the crowd with a mix of regality and practiced indifference.

at the palace, the scene was one of a different nature entirely. the atmosphere within the grand palace complex was a blend of opulence and casual domesticity. In the palace's expansive hot springs, a more relaxed environment prevailed. the tenth prince, baekhyun, splashed gleefully in the steaming waters, his laughter echoing off the stone walls. his actions were a far cry from the formalities of court life, displaying a childlike exuberance that was both endearing and mischievous.

beside him, the fourteenth prince, kang daniel, remained close, his presence a constant in baekhyun’s playful antics. daniel’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he engaged in the water games, showing a loyalty and camaraderie that was evident in their every interaction. the water playfully splashed around them, creating a lively contrast to the otherwise serene setting. the third prince, kang chaehee, observed from a slightly elevated edge of the hot springs, a sly scowl playing on his lips. his eyes followed the two princes with an air of calculated disbelief, as though he were silently plotting his next move or simply reveling in their stupidity.

the thirteenth prince, kang younghyun, joined the others with a warm smile, his entrance into the water adding a new layer of mirth to the scene. younghyun’s demeanor was that of a congenial companion, blending effortlessly into the group as he splashed and laughed with baekhyun and daniel.

the eighth prince, kang chwe hansol, watched the scene unfold with a calm and thoughtful expression. his gaze, serene and contemplative, contrasted with the playful energy of the younger princes. hansol’s mind was occupied with matters of the palace and the well-being of its occupants, a duty that seemed to weigh heavily on him. the ninth prince, kang yeosang, also observed from a distance, his face a mask of indifference. his role in the royal family was less pronounced, but his presence was a constant backdrop to the more dominant personalities of his brothers.

as the evening wore on, hansol noted the conspicuous absence of the fourth prince. his brow furrowed slightly in concern. “if namjoon is any later,” he said thoughtfully, “he’ll miss the ritual ceremony.” the ritual itself played a vital role in the dynasty as a whole, a tradition that had gone on for what could have been centuries. its purpose was not only to bring the princes together, but to rid them and the palace of spirits and hexes.

baekhyun, still immersed in the water, nudged daniel playfully. “i heard,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “that namjoon’s been killing people like a wolf. maybe we’ll be next.” he let out a playful howl, imitating a wolf with exaggerated movements. chaehee’s eyes narrowed, and he chided sang with a tone of authority. “quiet, baekhyun. this is all but the time for such nonsense.”

just as baekhyun began to submerge himself deeper into the water, a sudden figure emerged behind him. you gasped for air, your heart pounding as you struggled to catch your breath. the shock of the cold water and the realization of being in such a strange and precarious situation overwhelmed you. your mind raced, trying to make sense of your surroundings.

baekhyun turned around abruptly, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at you. “there’s a girl in the water!” he called out in shock, his voice carrying across the hot springs.

the princes froze, their expressions shifting from surprise to confusion as they took in the unexpected sight. before you could fully process the situation, a voice to your left beckoned you. you turned to see a slave girl standing at the edge of the hot springs in the bushes, her eyes darting nervously between you and the assembled princes. she gestured urgently for you to come over and whispered a name that you struggled to understand—“come on, my lady nabi.”

you had no clear idea of what she was saying, but the urgency in her voice compelled you to follow. you moved toward her, the water clinging to you as you emerged from the hot springs, your movements slow and hesitant. the princes watched in stunned silence, their gazes fixed on you. hansol’s eyes widened slightly as he processed the situation. “na…bi?” he murmured softly, his voice barely audible over the rippling water. the name hung in the air, its significance unclear but laden with an unsettling sense of foreboding.

the slave girl, chayeon, moved swiftly and decisively, her demeanor a stark contrast to the chaotic scene unfolding around you. her clothes, though simple and practical, were impeccably clean, and her face wore an expression of stern disapproval. she guided you away from the hot springs, her hands gripping your arm with a firmness that left no room for argument.

“lady nabi, what are you doing here?” she scolded, her voice a sharp whisper that cut through the murmurs of the princes. “you mustn’t be here. how did you end up in the water? this is no place for you!” her words came rapid-fire, her frustration palpable. her eyes scanned you, as if seeking to understand how you had arrived in such a predicament.

as she ushered you away, her scolding continued, though her voice softened slightly. “are you feeling alright now? are you hurt?” her concern, though genuine, was laced with an undercurrent of irritation. the whirlwind of her reprimand left you bewildered, struggling to make sense of your surroundings.

you were still disoriented from the cold shock of the water and the suddenness of the situation. you wondered why chayeon kept addressing you as “lady,” and why you had been dragged into this unfamiliar place. your confusion deepened as you took in the scene before you.

the outdoor pools, set amidst the grand palace grounds, were filled with people clad in elaborate period clothing. their garments were rich with color and intricate designs, the fabrics shimmering in the soft light of the setting sun. the setting was almost idyllic, with the gentle sounds of the water mingling with the low hum of conversation. it struck you with a sense of surrealism—the opulence and the formality of the setting contrasted sharply with the disarray of your predicament.

a growing realization began to dawn on you. the period clothing, the palace surroundings, the way chayeon addressed you—it all seemed to indicate that you had somehow crossed into another realm, a place that bore the hallmarks of the hereafter. the thought was disorienting and unsettling. overwhelmed and unable to process the strange new reality, your vision began to blur. the world around you grew dim, and with a final, desperate gasp, you fainted, collapsing into the comforting embrace of darkness.

the fourth prince made his entrance at the palace gates. his arrival was marked by an imposing presence, the grandeur of his attire and the regal bearing of his posture commanding attention. as he rode through the gates, his lead attendant followed closely, speaking with a tone that was both respectful and cautious.

“your highness,” the attendant said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “remember to uphold the honor of your adopted family name before the king. after your audience, you will need to return to shinju.” namjoon’s face twisted into a sneer at the mention of his adopted status. his tone was laced with sarcasm as he replied, “ah, yes. i had forgotten that i’m not just an adopted son but a hostage in this palace.”

his demeanor hardened as he rode further into the palace grounds. the vast courtyard stretched out before him, the silence heavy with the weight of his impending actions. he dismounted with a grace that belied the storm brewing within him. his hand moved to his sword, and in a swift, decisive motion, he drew it from its sheath.

the courtyard was filled with startled gasps as namjoon took a swing and, to everyone’s horror, struck his horse. the animal reared up, a cry of pain escaping its throat before collapsing to the ground, lifeless. the suddenness of the act stunned everyone into silence. the scene was one of utter shock, with onlookers frozen in place, their eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and fear.

a soldier stepped forward, his voice trembling as he stuttered, “your highness, you’re not allowed to carry a sword inside the palace.” he extended his hand, a gesture that seemed both hesitant and necessary. namjoon’s expression remained unchanged, his eyes cold and unyielding. without a word, he handed over the sword, the metal gleaming ominously as it was taken from him. the soldier, still visibly shaken, added, “i will prepare a horse for your departure.”

namjoon’s response was delivered with an unyielding finality. “i won’t be going back,” he declared, his voice echoing with a resolve that left no room for further discussion. he wasn’t going back, he wasn’t going to allow himself to return to shinju as a hostage.

the world around you began to coalesce into something more tangible as you slowly regained consciousness. the first thing you noticed was the softness of the bed beneath you. it was an opulent four-poster, draped in rich, dark fabrics that exuded an air of both comfort and grandeur. the room was lit by the soft glow of an oil lamp, and the furnishings, though elegant, felt strangely foreign.

you groaned softly, your head throbbing with an intensity that made it difficult to focus. the pain was sharp and persistent, a constant reminder of the disorienting turn your life had taken. as you attempted to sit up, a woman in traditional attire entered the room, her presence graceful and composed. she had an air of authority about her, and she approached with a concerned expression.

“nabi,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm. the name felt like an intrusion into your fragile state of awareness, and you looked up at her with a mixture of confusion and frustration.

“what do you mean, nabi?” you asked, your voice strained. “i’m (y/n) (l/n).” the declaration felt weak even as you spoke it, and you noticed the woman’s eyes widening in surprise. the woman’s face reflected a mix of shock and disbelief. “you’re not nabi?” she repeated, her tone tinged with uncertainty. her gaze darted between you and the door, as though she were expecting someone else to appear.

realization dawned on you, and a sudden, albeit delirious, laugh escaped your lips. “oh right, i died. i must be dead,” you said with a half-hearted chuckle. the absurdity of the situation hit you again, and your mind raced to piece together the fragments of your memories.

chayeon stepped into the room, her expression a mix of relief and exasperation. “no, you didn’t die,” she clarified. “you had a near miss, and we brought you here for safety.” her words did little to alleviate your confusion, and you blurted out, “i didn’t die?” your sense of reality felt tenuous, and your panic surged.

you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled toward the door, the pounding in your head growing louder with every step. the sight that greeted you outside was both breathtaking and bewildering. you found yourself in a spacious courtyard, surrounded by traditional architecture that spoke of a bygone era. the buildings were constructed with ornate wooden beams, their roofs sweeping gracefully upward in elegant curves. the lush greenery and tranquil garden added to the sense of otherworldly calm.

the unfamiliarity of the scene only heightened your alarm. “where am I?” you wondered aloud, your voice trembling with a mix of anxiety and confusion. you turned back to lady ja, who had followed you out of the room, and pleaded for clarification.

her gaze softened with a mixture of pity and patience. “you are at the residence of the eighth prince, wang chwe hansol, in songak,” she explained. the name rang a distant bell in your memory, but the pieces were still not fitting together. as the words sank in, a realization began to form in your mind. “songak?” you repeated, the name resonating with a sense of historical significance. “is this goryeo?” the question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of historical context.

lady ja nodded, her expression confirming your growing suspicion. “yes,” she said, “the current king is taejo wang geon, the founder of goryeo.” her words struck a chord with you, and the implications of what she was saying began to crystallize.

the recognition hit you like a wave. songak was indeed the old capital city of goryeo. you were not just in a different place but in a different time altogether. the realization was both thrilling and terrifying. you had somehow been transported into the past, into the very era of taejo wang geon’s reign. the weight of the revelation was almost too much to bear. your surroundings, the people, the architecture—all of it was a vivid testament to a historical period you had only known through books and tales. you stood there, trying to come to terms with the fact that you had somehow come into someone else’s body, into a world that was both rich in history and utterly foreign to you.

lady ja’s voice broke through your thoughts. “think hard about where you are,” she urged gently. “this is the residence of prince haneul, and we must ensure that you are properly cared for.” you nodded numbly, your mind still grappling with the enormity of your situation. as you took in the sights of the palace, the historical context of your predicament began to settle into place. the world around you was not merely a fantastical dream but a reality rooted in a time long past.

the throne room of the goryeo palace was a place of imposing grandeur and intricate design. richly adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of historical triumphs, the walls of the room gleamed with polished wood and gold accents. the vast chamber was dominated by the throne itself, a majestic seat of authority, intricately carved and elevated on a dais.

king taejo wang geon presided over the court with a gravity befitting his esteemed position. his regal presence commanded attention, his robes a cascade of deep, rich colors that spoke of both power and tradition. at his side were the six princes, each seated in a manner that reflected their rank and status. however, the fourth prince, namjoon, was notably absent from this gathering, his absence a conspicuous gap in the otherwise well-ordered assembly.

the tension in the room was palpable as an official presented a dead bird, its lifeless form displayed for all to see. the bird had fallen dead after a single bite from the crown prince’s breakfast, an unsettling testament to possible tampering. the sight of the dead creature stirred murmurs of concern among those in attendance.

king taejo's gaze was sharp and unwavering as he addressed the issue. “find the culprit responsible for this heinous act,” he commanded, his voice echoing with the weight of authority. the room fell into a hushed silence as the gravity of the situation sank in.

amidst the tension, jackson wang, a cousin of the king, stepped forward with a calculated expression. his tone was smooth yet insistent. “your majesty,” he began, “i must speak. there are growing concerns about the crown prince, wang taehyung. rumors suggest that he suffers from an incurable disease, and some believe he is unfit to assume the throne.” the words hung in the air, charged with implications. his proposal was audacious, but not without precedent in the power struggles of the royal court. he entreatied taejo to consider dethroning wang taehyung and replacing him with another prince. the notion of replacing the crown prince was met with a mix of surprise and unease from those present.

outside the throne room, crown prince taehyung himself arrived just in time to overhear jackson’s suggestion. his expression was one of barely contained frustration and hurt, his position at the heart of the debate adding to his evident distress. he hesitated at the door, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the gravity of the situation. inside the throne room, king taejo turned his attention to the remaining princes, his gaze probing and expectant. “do any of you agree with wang jackson’s proposal?” he asked, his voice laced with the tension of the moment. “is there anyone among you who would like to see the crown prince replaced?”

the princes exchanged glances, their reactions a mix of anxiety and discomfort. some avoided eye contact, while others looked visibly taken aback by the king’s question. the atmosphere was thick with uncertainty as they weighed their options, each one acutely aware of the delicate nature of the discussion.

the eighth prince was the first to break the silence. with a calm yet resolute demeanor, hansol moved forward and knelt before the king. “your majesty,” he said earnestly, “i beseech you to reconsider these words. there is no one among us who wishes to replace crown prince tae. we are united in our belief that he is the rightful heir.” his plea was followed swiftly by the thirteenth prince, who also approached the throne and knelt. “i too implore you, your majesty, to retract this proposal. crown prince taehyung is our leader, and we support him wholeheartedly.”

third prince chaehee was next to kneel, his actions reflecting the collective sentiment of the princes. his expression was guarded, but his voice carried a sense of urgency as he added his support to the plea. the younger princes, recognizing the shift in the room, followed suit. they too knelt, their voices merging in a unified plea for the king to reconsider. “please, your majesty,” they said in chorus, “do not dismiss crown prince taehyung. he is deserving of his position.”

in the midst of this fervent display of loyalty, king taejo called forth his esteemed astrologer and fortune-reader, choi jisoo. the elderly man, dressed in robes adorned with celestial patterns, approached the throne with a measured step. he began his explanation with a reverent tone, his words flowing with the weight of ancient knowledge. “the stars,” he began, “do not indicate that the crown prince is unfit. instead, they reveal a future filled with promise and stability. the alignment of the stars suggests that crown prince tae is destined to lead with wisdom and strength.”

the king listened intently as he continued to elaborate on the celestial omens, his confidence in the prince’s future unwavering. the explanations of the stars, combined with the united front of the princes, seemed to sway the king’s judgment.

king taejo’s expression softened as he addressed the court. “i have heard your pleas,” he declared. “i reaffirm that crown prince taehyung will take the leading position in the upcoming rites. his position is secure, and he shall fulfill his duties as our future sovereign.” the room erupted into a murmur of relief and approval, but not all were pleased with the outcome. hyun’s expression darkened, a subtle shift in his demeanor betraying his displeasure. his eyes, though fleetingly narrowed, reflected a deep-seated discontent, suggesting that the issue was far from resolved.

in the lavishly adorned quarters of queen jiyoung, the air was filled with an opulent serenity. the queen's residence was a realm of understated luxury, with delicate silks draped over intricately carved wooden screens and the gentle flicker of oil lamps casting soft shadows across the richly decorated walls. the fragrance of jasmine and sandalwood mingled, creating an atmosphere of calm and refinement.

jiyoung, seated gracefully at a low, ornate table, was engaged in conversation with chaehee, her expression one of composed interest. her attire, resplendent in hues of deep purple and gold, emphasized her status and authority. the intricate embroidery on her gown depicted scenes of serene landscapes and mythical creatures, adding to her regal bearing.

“i must admit, chaehee,” she said, her voice smooth yet laced with an edge of surprise, “i didn't expect crown prince taehyung to emerge from this latest crisis unscathed. i had anticipated that his position would be in jeopardy, particularly with the evidence presented against him.”

chaehee, standing by her side with an air of practiced deference, offered a sympathetic smile. “your majesty, it seems the king has decided to keep the crown prince in his position for now. the princes’ pleas and the astrologer’s predictions seem to have swayed him.” her gaze hardened slightly, her fingers drumming lightly on the surface of the table.

a court lady approached with a respectful bow, interrupting their conversation. “your majesty,” she began, her voice tentative, “there is a visitor outside requesting an audience. he has been waiting for some time.” jiyoung’s expression shifted to one of irritation. “a visitor? at this hour? who could it be?” her tone was sharp, revealing her displeasure at the interruption.

the court lady hesitated before responding. “it is your son, prince namjoon, your majesty. he has been waiting outside for your presence.”

jiyoung’s irritation grew palpable. her sons were often seen as pawns in the grand scheme of palace politics, and the timing of this interruption seemed particularly inconvenient. “prince namjoon?” she repeated, her voice tinged with frustration. “i have no time for such distractions right now. tell him to leave. i am not to be disturbed.” the court lady bowed deeply, her face a mask of regret as she turned to deliver the message. “yes, your majesty,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of her duty.

the night descended upon songak with a veil of darkness, its silence broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind against the palace walls. within the confines of your room, the atmosphere was heavy with a sense of desolation and uncertainty. You had locked yourself away, seeking refuge in the solitude of the opulent space, but it offered little solace.

the room was adorned with luxurious fabrics and furnishings, yet the grandeur did little to dispel the turmoil within you. you huddled on the edge of the bed, wrapped in the silken covers but feeling cold and detached. your mind replayed the events of the day with haunting clarity. the dead bird, the tense courtroom, and the disturbing reality of your situation all blended into a nightmarish haze.

as you shivered beneath the covers, you grappled with the reality of your existence. “did i die in the water that day?” you wondered aloud, your voice trembling in the quiet room. the thought that your host body, nabi, might have met the same fate only compounded your anxiety. the idea that you had somehow taken on nabi’s life in this strange, historical world was both disorienting and terrifying.

“am i (y/n) (l/n), or nabi?” you questioned, your voice barely more than a whisper. the realization that you were living someone else’s life was an unsettling one. yet, amidst the confusion, you decided to view this as a stroke of fortune—a new chance at life, albeit in a form you had not anticipated. if you were to continue as nabi, you resolved to make the most of the unexpected opportunity.

the enormity of your predicament loomed over you. despite your determination, you were acutely aware of how little you knew about goryeo. the intricacies of the court, the historical context, and even the line of succession were mysteries to you. you weren’t even sure which king followed taejo. your attempt to guess was a shot in the dark, and you feared it might be embarrassingly wrong. as you sat brooding, the soft murmur of voices reached your ears from outside the door. prince hansol had returned home, and you could hear him speaking with his wife, lady ja. their conversation was laden with concern.

“she was in the water for two hours before resurfacing,” lady ja was saying, her tone filled with worry. “she was like a corpse. we fear she might harm herself.” chayeon’s voice joined the conversation, her words carrying a hint of distress. “she lost her memory. we don’t know what to do.”

the weight of their concern seemed to seep through the walls, intensifying your sense of isolation. lady ja’s anxiety was palpable, and the thought of harming yourself felt like a grim possibility. the fear that you might be beyond help was overwhelming. suddenly, the door to your room was thrust open with a force that startled you. standing in the doorway was hansol, his face etched with a deep concern. his presence was commanding, yet there was a softness in his eyes that belied his authoritative stance.

“please, don’t be scared,” hansol said firmly, his voice cutting through the fog of your confusion. “i brought you here, so i will help you through to the end.”

he extended his hand toward you, his gesture a lifeline in the midst of your turmoil. he brought you there? what exactly did he mean by that? the sight of his outstretched hand seemed to pierce through the haze of your thoughts. you looked at it, feeling a mix of desperation and resolve. the prospect of remaining in this strange new world was daunting, but the notion of giving up was even more so. despite the uncertainty, a new wave of determination surged within you. the realization that you could not go back or change your appearance fueled a newfound resolve to face the challenges ahead. you took a deep breath, gathering your strength, and reached out to grasp his hand.

as your fingers closed around his, a sense of commitment and hope took root. hansol’s grip was firm and reassuring, offering a semblance of stability in the midst of your disorientation. you looked up at him, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. “i trust you,” you said, your voice steady despite the lingering tremor of uncertainty. “’i want to make sense of this life.”

namjoon’s mind drifted back through the fog of time, to a moment of clarity from his childhood. the memory was etched into his mind with a precision that made it feel as though it had happened only yesterday. he was a young boy then, barely old enough to understand the gravity of the world around him. the palace, once a place of warmth and familial affection, had turned cold and unwelcoming. the loss of the crown prince, taejo and jiyoung’s firstborn, had cast a shadow over the entire court. the death had shaken the very foundation of their lives, leaving behind a void that seemed impossible to fill.

jiyoung’s grief was intense, her sorrow a constant, gnawing presence that colored her every interaction. she had been inconsolable, a stark contrast to the determined, almost clinical demeanor of king taejo. the queen’s eyes, once so full of life, were now heavy with an unspoken anguish. her hands, which had once cradled her child with tender care, now trembled with a mix of rage and despair.

in the aftermath of the tragedy, taejo had made a decision that seemed both practical and cold-hearted. he sought to fortify the kingdom’s borders through another marriage, a strategic move intended to bolster alliances and strengthen the realm. the political implications of his choice were clear, but to the grieving queen, they were an affront to her sorrow. as the king prepared to finalize his decision, the palace was awash with tension. jiyoung, her face streaked with tears and resolve, confronted him.

her voice was a strained whisper, laden with desperation. “how can you even consider another marriage?” she demanded. “do you not feel any sadness? is our loss so easily forgotten?” taejo responded with an unsettling calmness. “my decisions are guided by the needs of the kingdom,” he said. “this marriage is necessary for the security of our borders. it’s not a matter of personal grief.”

the queen’s eyes flashed with a dangerous intensity. her hand clenched around a small, ornate dagger, a symbol of her resolve. “you will choose between your marriage and your son,” she declared, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and anguish. she seized namjoon, who stood beside her, and pressed the dagger against his young throat.

the king’s face darkened, a storm of conflicting emotions crossing his features. “this won’t stop my decision,” he warned, his voice edged with a steely resolve. “you cannot use our son as leverage.” the tension in the room reached a breaking point. rhe queen’s grip on the dagger tightened, her face a mask of defiant rage. with a sudden, violent movement, she raised her hand, intent on striking out in her desperation.

taejo acted swiftly, his hand grasping her wrist in a desperate bid to prevent the impending violence. but the queen was resolute, wrenching her arm free from his grasp. in the struggle, the dagger’s blade sliced across namjoon’s young face. the sharp edge cut through flesh, spraying blood in a sudden, horrifying arc. hansol rushed forward in a panic. his eyes widened in horror as he saw the blood seeping from namjoon’s wound, the child’s face contorted in pain and shock. the sight was etched into his memory as he reached out, his own face pale and stricken.

years later, the mask namjoon wore was a constant reminder of that night, a physical manifestation of the emotional scars he carried. the memory of that moment—the struggle, the pain, and the betrayal—was a shadow that lingered in his past, shaping his present in ways both seen and unseen. the mask, more than a protective covering, was a symbol of the emotional wounds that had never truly healed.

as dawn crept over songak, its light filtered gently through the silk curtains of your chamber, casting a soft glow across the opulent furnishings. you emerged from the cocoon of your blankets, your mind still tangled in the disarray of your new reality. chaeyeon arrived promptly to escort you around the grounds, her demeanor a blend of professionalism and sympathy. the palace grounds were a sprawling expanse of beauty and grandeur, with meticulously manicured gardens, serene water features, and stately buildings that spoke of the power and wealth of the dynasty. the scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustle of leaves in the morning breeze created an atmosphere of tranquility.

chaeyeon led you with practiced ease, her steps light and graceful. she spoke with a calm, informative tone, filling you in on the details of your life as nabi. “this is the western garden,” she said, gesturing to a lush area adorned with vibrant flora. “you used to spend a great deal of time here, enjoying the serenity. and over there,” she pointed towards a grand pavilion, “is where you and lady ja often held tea parties.”

you nodded, feigning familiarity with the surroundings. “it’s all starting to come back to me,” you said, though internally you struggled to piece together the fragmented information. the “amnesia” you claimed was a convenient cover for your ignorance, allowing you to absorb details about your new identity without raising suspicion.

chaeyeon’s eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze scrutinizing you with a hint of suspicion. “are you certain you’re not faking your condition?” she asked, her tone laced with concern. “perhaps you had a secret relationship with someone or incurred a debt that might explain your current state.”

the accusation took you aback, and you paused, considering her words. “did nabi have a secret life?” you mused aloud. “was she someone who acted one way in public and another behind closed doors?” chaeyeon’s eyes widened slightly, her suspicion momentarily replaced by concern. “nabi was always so quiet and reserved,” she said, shaking her head. “it’s hard to believe she would have done anything underhanded.”

your tendency to refer to yourself in the third person seemed to convince chaeyeon of your genuine amnesia. she softened her stance, though her gaze remained thoughtful. “if you truly don’t remember, then we’ll have to help you piece together the fragments of your past,” she said, her voice gentler now. you sighed inwardly, recognizing the futility of explaining that you were merely inhabiting someone else’s body. the truth was far too complex to convey, and the best course of action was to continue with the pretense of amnesia.

as you walked alongside her, your gaze fell upon the distant river that meandered through the palace grounds. across it, you could see prince hansol and lady ja enjoying a quiet moment together. hansol’s attention towards his wife was marked by an evident tenderness, his every gesture reflecting a deep affection. curiosity piqued, you asked chaeyeon, “what can you tell me about prince hansol?”

her face lit up with pride as she spoke of him. “prince chwe hansol is truly the finest man in all of goryeo,” she said, her voice brimming with admiration. “he is often regarded as the one who should have been the first prince. his wisdom and kindness are unmatched, and he is deeply loved by all who know him.” you absorbed her words with a mix of relief and contemplation. from your limited historical knowledge, you wondered if he was the prince who later became king gwangjong.

as you continued to observe the serene interaction between hansol and lady ja across the river, you found yourself lost in thought, the quiet affection between the couple stirring something within you. the tranquility of the moment was abruptly shattered by the sharp voice of a woman you hadn’t noticed approaching.

“how dare you stare so rudely?” she snapped, her voice cutting through the calm like a blade. you turned to face the intruder, immediately noting her keen, almost predatory eyes. “being lady ja’s cousin is no excuse for such impropriety.”

before you could respond, chaeyeon quickly bowed low and urgently nudged you to do the same. “princess seulgi,” she whispered in warning, her tone laced with anxiety. princess seulgi, you thought, sizing up the woman before you. her posture was rigid, her gaze unyielding, and her expression one of barely concealed disdain. there was an air of superiority about her, as if she expected the world to bend to her whims. despite chaeyeon’s subtle attempts to pacify the situation, hana’s eyes never left you, narrowing slightly in irritation.

with a voice sweetened by insincerity, she said, “it’s such a shame, nabi, that you seem to have forgotten your manners along with your memory. you could stand to relearn quite a few things, it seems.”

the condescension in her tone was unmistakable, and you felt your irritation bubble to the surface. internally, you grumbled at her haughty attitude, unwilling to be cowed by her status. so, with a bright, wide smile, you met her gaze and replied, “if you dislike me, princess, just say so.” for a moment, silence hung between you, thick with tension. hana’s eyes widened in shock, her sharp tongue momentarily stilled by your audacity. she had likely expected you to cower or apologize, not to confront her so directly.

you continued, your voice steady and firm, “it’s clear you’re the type to bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in with criticism. but that doesn’t work with me.” seulgi’s shock quickly morphed into anger, her face flushing with indignation. “you insolent little—” she began, her voice rising as she spat out, “bitch!”

you raised your voice right back, ready to escalate the argument further. but just as the tension reached its peak, a commanding presence interrupted. “enough.” the single word, spoken in a calm yet authoritative tone, immediately silenced the room. you and hana both turned to see hansol approaching, his expression unreadable but his mere presence enough to quell the brewing storm.

he stepped between you and the princess, his gaze settling on you as he urged you to walk with him, toward the library. “nabi,” he began, his voice softening slightly, “it seems you’ve forgotten the proper way to greet a member of the royal family.” you felt a rush of embarrassment as the reality of the situation dawned on you. bowing hurriedly, you tried to recover, offering a modern and awkward, “hello.”

the corner of hansol’s mouth twitched slightly in what could have been amusement, though his expression remained mostly neutral. “i suppose your amnesia means you don’t remember much at all,” he mused, his tone more curious than accusatory. “including whether you’ve peeped on the princes’ bath before or after you lost your memory.” caught off guard by his question, you struggled to form a coherent response, heat rising to your cheeks. “i don’t remember,” you admitted, feeling the weight of his scrutiny.

hansol didn’t press further, his gaze thoughtful as he considered you. “what is it that you want to do with yourself now, nabi?” he asked. there was a sincerity in his tone, as if he genuinely wanted to help you find your place. “i brought you here when you first accompanied lady ja, and i intend to look after you. but i need to know what you wish for your future.” his concern surprised you. you hadn’t expected him to take such an interest, especially given that you were technically a stranger in this body. yet, there was a part of you that wondered why he would go to such lengths, even if you were related to his wife.

determined to assert some control over your situation, you squared your shoulders and said, “i’ll take care of myself, your highness.” the words came out more confidently than you felt, but you were resolved to prove that you weren’t a burden. he seemed taken aback by your response, his brows knitting together slightly in confusion. your modernisms, the casual way you spoke, must have seemed strange to him. “you’ll take care of yourself?” he repeated, as if trying to understand your meaning.

realizing your mistake, you quickly added, “what i mean is, i’ll find a way to live here and be of use. i don’t want to be a burden.” his expression softened again, though a hint of concern lingered. “very well,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “but you must understand that you’re not alone here. we all have roles to play, and we’ll help you find yours.”

as he spoke, he moved around the room, his steps measured and deliberate. you followed him, your eyes tracing the lines of the bookshelves that lined the walls. the library was grand, filled with volumes that spoke of a rich history you barely understood.

“i have many talents,” you blurted out, trying to reassure both him and yourself. “i’ll find a way to make myself useful, i promise.” you nearly ran into him as he stopped abruptly, turning to face you. his closeness made you tense, the air between you charged with a subtle, unspoken tension. he studied you intently, his gaze searching for something in your eyes.

“you seem like someone else,” he observed quietly, the weight of his words sinking deep into your consciousness. you were flustered by his remark, unsure how to respond. but before you could speak, he continued, “it doesn’t matter who you were before, nabi. what matters is how you move forward now.” his words were a comfort, a reminder that while your situation was strange and frightening, you had a chance to shape your own path.

“i won’t ask further about your memory,” he added, his tone gentle. “but you must not worry lady ja any further. she cares deeply for you, and so do i.” you nodded quickly, agreeing to his terms. “i won’t,” you promised, feeling a renewed determination to adapt to this life. with that, he dismissed you, and you ran off, your mind buzzing with everything that had transpired. as you left the library, you couldn’t shake the feeling that hansol saw through you, that he knew there was something fundamentally different about you.

as namjoon roamed the dimly lit library, his fingers traced the spines of countless books that lined the shelves. the scent of old paper and ink hung heavy in the air, a quiet reminder of the knowledge stored within these walls. the books there were far from ordinary, though—jisoo’s collection was infamous for its peculiar and often forbidden contents. namjoon’s sharp eyes quickly zeroed in on a particular shelf, one that seemed to be tucked away more carefully than the others. his lips curled into a smirk as he pulled out a slender, well-worn volume, its cover unassuming save for the faint, faded title that promised scandalous secrets within.

he flipped through the pages, his amusement growing with each explicit passage. lost in the irony, he didn’t notice jisoo’s approach until the man was practically breathing down his neck. “enjoying the collection?” his voice was light, almost teasing. his presence was like a shadow, creeping up without warning, and it made namjoon’s grip tighten on the book.

namjoon didn’t bother to hide the volume he was holding. he met jisoo’s gaze with a lazy smirk. “you’ve got an interesting taste. planning on lending me these?” jisoo’s eyes glittered with amusement, though the smile on his lips was sharp. “if it suits your fancy, i’d be more than happy to let you borrow them. but something tells me you’re not here just for a light read.”

namjoon’s expression hardened, and he snapped the book shut with a decisive clap. “why was i called here?”

jisoo didn’t seem perturbed by the shift in his tone. he folded his arms and leaned back against the nearest shelf, his posture relaxed yet calculating. “the court lady who prepared crown prince taehyung’s breakfast was found hanged this morning. a curious case, given that it’s rather difficult to hang oneself in such a manner.” namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “a suicide, then?”

jisoo shook his head, his gaze darkening. “not quite. a death staged as a suicide, which suggests the involvement of someone who knows their way around the palace. someone with the means to silence her before she could speak.” namjoon’s smirk faded as he absorbed the implications. “you’re suggesting it’s someone within the royal family. perhaps even a prince.”

jisoo nodded, his expression grave. “that’s exactly what i’m suggesting. and you’re the one I want to find the culprit.” namjoon let out a low, humorless laugh. “what am i, a dog now? people keep calling me a wolf, and you must think i’ve actually become one.”

jisoo’s gaze remained steady, unflinching. “you’ve spent years in the shadow of this court, namjoon, watching and learning. no one knows the intrigues here better than you.” he turned away, pacing slowly between the shelves, his thoughts churning. “i’m a hostage, jisoo, not a hound to be sent sniffing out conspiracies.”

jisoo’s voice followed him, cool and measured. “maybe you were. but that display earlier—killing your horse in front of everyone—that wasn’t the act of a hostage. it was the act of a man who no longer wants to live as one.” namjoon halted, his back to jisoo, his fists clenching at his sides. the truth of those words stung, even as they ignited a flicker of something deep within him—a desire for something more, something beyond the chains that had bound him for so long.

he continued, his tone coaxing, “if you fulfill this task, it could be your chance to claim that freedom you’re so desperate for.” namjoon remained silent, weighing the offer. the idea of being free, of no longer living under the constant threat of being used as a pawn, was tempting. but the risk was high, and the stakes higher still. it was then that jisoo dropped the final piece of information, his voice softening almost imperceptibly. “it was crown prince taehyung who requested this investigation.”

namjoon’s breath caught in his throat, and he turned slowly to face jisoo. “taehyung?” he echoed, his voice laced with disbelief. before he could respond, the door to the library creaked open, and tae stepped inside. his presence was commanding, even in the quiet, scholarly atmosphere of the room. he was dressed in the formal robes befitting his station, though there was an air of exhaustion about him, as if the weight of the crown was already pressing down heavily on his shoulders.

“crown prince taehyung.” namjoon bowed his head slightly, though his eyes remained on the prince, searching for answers. taehyung’s expression was calm, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. “namjoon,” he greeted, his voice steady despite the tension that hung in the air. “i’m glad you’re here.”

jisoo stepped forward, his tone shifting to one of deference. “your highness, i’ve informed him of the situation.” tae nodded, his gaze never leaving namjoon. “there have been whispers of an assassination attempt during the upcoming rites. if those whispers are true, i need someone I can trust to root out the traitor before it’s too late.”

namjoon’s eyes narrowed as he considered the prince’s words. this was more than just palace intrigue—it was a matter of life and death. “and if i succeed?” he asked, his voice low, careful. tae met his gaze squarely, the gravity of the situation reflected in his eyes. “if you find the one responsible, i’ll give you anything you ask for.” namjoon’s heart pounded in his chest as the possibilities raced through his mind. this was his chance—his chance to finally step out from the shadows and take control of his own destiny. but he wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

“anything?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of challenge. taehyung didn’t flinch. “anything.”

namjoon let the silence stretch between them for a moment before he spoke, his voice steady and clear. “i want to live here, permanently.”

taehyung’s eyes widened slightly, the request taking him by surprise. he had expected namjoon to ask for land, titles, perhaps even power. but the capital, along with a wife, that was a different kind of demand altogether. “done,” he said after a moment, his voice firm with resolve. “if you find the culprit, i’ll see to it that you’re granted a permanent residence in songak.”

the ladies of hansol’s household bustled around the courtyard, their nimble fingers busy at work crafting delicate lanterns shaped like flowers. the air was filled with the scent of freshly cut paper and the faint tang of glue, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the women. each one of them worked with a practiced ease, folding and cutting the colored paper with precision to create intricate designs. you, however, were utterly hopeless at it. no matter how hard you tried, your fingers fumbled with the delicate materials, and your lanterns came out misshapen and clumsy.

it wasn’t long before princess seulgi took notice. her sharp eyes caught every flaw, every misstep, and she wasn’t one to let them slide. “it seems your amnesia has taken more from you than just your memory,” she remarked, her tone laced with disdain as she inspected your work. she held up one of your malformed creations with a look of barely concealed disgust. “this is hardly suitable for the rites.”

you bit back a retort, feeling your frustration rise. it was bad enough that you were struggling with those tasks, but having seulgi point out your failures so openly stung even more. still, you were determined to prove yourself, to show that you weren’t as useless as she made you feel. “i can still help,” you insisted, trying to keep the desperation out of your voice.

she raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mocking smile. “very well,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “since you’re so eager to contribute, why don’t you make the glue for us?”

you didn’t miss the challenge in her tone, nor the way the other ladies exchanged glances, their expressions tinged with pity. making glue was a dirty job, often relegated to the lowest servants, but you swallowed your pride and nodded. “i’ll do it,” you replied, trying to sound confident.

the task was every bit as grueling as she had intended. you were sent outside, away from the cool shade of the courtyard, to work under the sun. the thick, sticky mixture of rice flour and water required constant stirring to keep it from burning, and the heat made the air feel heavy and oppressive. your arms ached from the effort, and sweat dripped down your forehead, but you pushed through, determined not to give seulgi the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

at one point, you paused to stretch, your body protesting the repetitive motion. you leaned back, stretching your arms overhead and bending at the waist to relieve the tension in your muscles. the movement was hardly graceful, but you were too focused on easing your discomfort to care. it wasn’t until you straightened up that you noticed hansol standing a short distance away, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. you froze, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. the thought of hansol watching you as you contorted yourself in such an ungainly manner made you want to shrink into the ground. quickly, you turned back to the pot of glue, resuming your stirring with renewed vigor. “the princess put me to this task,” you explained, trying to sound nonchalant despite your awkwardness.

hansol’s lips twitched in a barely suppressed smile. “i see you’re demonstrating your many talents,” he said, his tone dry as he echoed your earlier words. you couldn’t help but laugh, despite yourself. “yes, well, i suppose i should have specified that glue-making wasn’t one of them,” you replied, shaking your head at the absurdity of the situation. he chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. for a moment, the tension between you eased, and you found yourself feeling grateful for his presence. but before you could say more, he was called away by one of the other princes, leaving you to your task once more.

later in the day, the princes gathered to prepare for the upcoming rites, practicing a ceremonial sword dance that required both grace and precision. tenth prince baekhyun was by far the worst at the dance. his movements were stiff, his timing off, and after several failed attempts to keep up with the others, he finally threw down his sword in frustration. “this is pointless,” he muttered, his tone sulky as he stalked off to the side, clearly in no mood to continue.

the other princes paused, taking a break from their practice. ninth prince yeosang, took the opportunity to speak up. “is it true that the king intends to abdicate his throne to crown prince tae after the ceremony?” the question hung in the air, bringing everyone up short. even the most practiced of the princes couldn’t hide their surprise at the boldness of his inquiry. all eyes turned to jisoo, who had been observing the practice from a distance.

jisoo’s expression was unreadable as he responded. “i know nothing of the sort,” he said carefully, his tone giving nothing away. but his non-answer only fueled the tension. hansol frowned at yeosang, his voice low and admonishing. “you were foolish to say that, kwan. the king must not hear such rumors.” third prince chaehee crossed his arms and spoke up. “we’re all curious, hansol. and it’s not yeosang’s fault for asking. besides, jisoo didn’t exactly deny it outright.” the tension among the princes was intense, each of them silently weighing the implications of the question.

exhausted from the day’s work, you decided to rest outside, hoping to clear your mind. as you leaned back against a tree, you noticed a familiar figure walking by, his robes fluttering slightly in the breeze. it was jisoo, the court astrologer—and, you realized with a start, the hobo from the pier. the recognition hit you like a lightning bolt, and without thinking, you leapt to your feet and took off after him.

“wait!” you called, your voice breathless as you darted through the courtyard. jisoo glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing in recognition, and then he began to move faster, slipping through the narrow alleys of the city with practiced ease. you chased after him, your heart pounding in your chest, but he was always just out of reach, his figure disappearing around corners and ducking into shadows. finally, you lost sight of him altogether, standing in the middle of a busy street with no idea where he had gone. the disappointment was bitter, and you were about to turn back when the sound of hooves thundered through the air.

namjoon came riding furiously down the street, his horse galloping at a breakneck pace. villagers dove for cover as he barreled through, his expression set in a fierce scowl. you didn’t see him until the last moment, too distracted by your pursuit of jisoo to notice the danger. by the time you did, it was too late—you froze in the middle of the street, your eyes wide with shock as the horse bore down on you.

a peddler’s pack brushed against you, knocking you backward. you stumbled, arms flailing as you teetered on the edge of the ravine that bordered the street. the ground seemed to drop away beneath you, and you felt the sickening lurch of gravity pulling you down. panic surged through you, your mind racing with the realization that you were about to fall. but just as you began to tip over the edge, a strong hand shot out and grabbed you around the waist, pulling you up with a force that left you breathless. you were yanked into the saddle, your body pressed against namjoon’s as he steadied his horse with a firm grip. for a moment, you could only cling to him, your heart pounding in your chest as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. the world spun around you, the near-fall leaving you shaken and disoriented.

you stared up at namjoon, wide-eyed and breathless, your fingers clinging desperately to his robe as the horse thundered through the city streets. the wind whipped through your hair, your heart still pounding from the near fall into the ravine. for a moment, all you could focus on was the intensity of namjoon’s face—the sharp line of his jaw, the cool indifference in his left eye, the slight frown that seemed permanently etched into his brow. it was as if he held the world at arm’s length, letting nothing and no one touch him. the ride was brief but harrowing. you felt the rhythm of the horse’s hooves beneath you, the power of its muscles as it responded to namjoon’s every command. you wondered, not for the first time, what it would take to unearth a flicker of emotion from him, something other than the stoic mask he wore so effortlessly.

finally, namjoon slowed the horse, bringing it to a halt just outside the palace gates. the sudden stop jolted you from your thoughts, and you blinked up at him, still gripping his robe as if it were a lifeline. his gaze flicked down to you, the barest hint of curiosity in his eyes, before he looked away. without warning, his arm released you, and you found yourself unceremoniously dumped onto the ground. you landed in an undignified heap, the breath knocked out of you as you hit the dirt. for a moment, you could only lie there, staring up at the sky in stunned disbelief.

“what the hell was that for?” you demanded, scrambling to your feet and glaring up at him. you dusted yourself off, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “you could’ve at least helped me down like a normal person.” namjoon tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable as he regarded you. for a moment, you thought he might apologize—or at the very least, offer an explanation. instead, his lips quirked into a faint, mocking smile.

“perhaps i thought you’d enjoy the challenge,” he replied, his tone infuriatingly calm. you narrowed your eyes, not about to let him off the hook so easily. “you’re impossible, you know that? just because you ride in here like a—”

but before you could finish, namjoon clicked his tongue, and the horse reared up on its hind legs. you stumbled backward, losing your balance as the horse’s hooves pawed the air above you. panic surged through you, and you fell back onto the ground once more, landing with a hard thud. by the time you regained your composure, namjoon had already ridden off, the sound of his horse’s hooves echoing through the streets. you stared after him, fuming, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. he was insufferable, arrogant, and completely out of control.

“lady nabi, are you all right?” you turned to see chaeyeon hurrying toward you, her face etched with concern. she reached out to help you up, her hands warm and steady. “what happened? i saw you with prince namjoon just now.” you sighed, brushing off your clothes once more as you accepted her help. “it’s nothing. just a misunderstanding,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant despite your lingering irritation.

chaeyeon gave you a skeptical look but didn’t press further. instead, she glanced over her shoulder, as if worried someone might overhear. “princess seulgi is looking for you,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with urgency. “you should come quickly.”

with a nod, you followed her through the palace grounds, your mind still reeling from the encounter with namjoon. as you walked, she filled you in on the latest developments—apparently, seulgi was currently meeting with her brothers, or at least the six of them who got along. namjoon was noticeably absent, though it was clear from the tension in the air that his presence, or lack thereof, weighed heavily on the gathering.

by the time you reached the small courtyard where the meeting was taking place, you could already hear the low murmur of voices. the princes were discussing something in hushed tones, their expressions serious. as you and chaeyeon approached, you caught snippets of their conversation, the words charged with a sense of foreboding.

“…difficult to get along with him,” one of the princes was saying, his voice tinged with frustration. “he’s moody and unpredictable. it’s like walking on eggshells around him.” you recognized the speaker as tenth prince baekhyun, his youthful face twisted into a pout. his words were met with nods of agreement from the others, though no one seemed willing to voice their thoughts too openly.

just as he opened his mouth to continue, the door to the courtyard slid open with a soft thud. the princes fell silent, their eyes snapping to the entrance as namjoon stepped inside. the tension in the room was heavy, the air thick with unspoken worries. seulgi was the only one who looked pleased to see him, her face lighting up with a smile as she stood to greet him. “namjoon,” she said warmly, moving toward him with a graceful sweep of her robes. “i’m so glad you could join us.”

namjoon offered a polite nod. “it’s good to see you,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual warmth. but before he could say more, chaehee, the third prince, cut in with a smirk. “don’t try too hard with namjoon, brother. he understands the language of beasts better than people.”

the barb hung in the air, and the other princes stiffened, exchanging uneasy glances. even seulgi’s smile faltered slightly, her eyes darting between namjoon and chaehee, as if bracing for the fallout. but namjoon didn’t react as expected. instead, he simply met chaehee’s gaze with a calm, measured look. “ah,” he said softly, his voice as cool as ice, “that’s why i understand my brother’s words so well.”

the room went silent, the tension simmering beneath the surface. even the normally boisterous sang seemed cowed, his earlier bravado evaporating in the face of namjoon’s quiet menace. the princes exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to respond. at that moment, the maids entered the courtyard, carrying trays laden with snacks and refreshments. it was also your cue to join the gathering, though you hesitated, doing your best to hang back out of sight. the last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself, especially with namjoon’s unnerving presence so close by.

but your attempt to skulk behind a pillar didn’t go unnoticed. baekhyun caught sight of you and immediately zeroed in, his eyes narrowing as he tried to place why you seemed so familiar. “you there!” he called out, his voice ringing through the courtyard as he stepped closer. “i know you from somewhere, don’t I?”

you froze, your heart sinking as his gaze locked onto yours. he was right, of course—you had crossed paths before, but not in any way you wanted to be reminded of. you went cross-eyed in panic, silently praying that he wouldn’t figure it out. but he was nothing if not persistent. his brow furrowed as he racked his brain, and then his eyes lit up with recognition. “wait a minute, weren’t you the peeping tom at the baths?” the words hit you like a ton of bricks, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out a denial. “no! absolutely not!”

but in your haste to deny the accusation, you stumbled backward, accidentally knocking into a maid carrying a tray. the tray wobbled precariously, and with a horrified gasp, you watched as the plateware went crashing to the ground, shattering into pieces with a deafening clatter. for a moment, the entire courtyard fell into a stunned silence. all eyes were on you—the princes, the maids, even chaeyeon—each one of them staring in varying degrees of shock and disbelief. seulgi’s expression darkened, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene.

“what have you done?” her voice was low and cold, her tone cutting through the air like a knife. “are you truly so incompetent that you can’t even keep out of trouble for a single day?” faced with her anger and a roomful of staring princes, you felt a wave of mortification crash over you. the humiliation was too much to bear, and without thinking, you turned and bolted from the courtyard, your footsteps echoing off the stone walls as you fled. as you ran, you caught a glimpse of namjoon out of the corner of your eye. he was standing off to the side, his expression unreadable as he watched you go. but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or maybe something else entirely.

you ran through the palace corridors, your heart pounding in your chest. slowing your pace, you took a moment to lean against a column, forcing yourself to take deep, steadying breaths. “hang in there,” you whispered to yourself, willing your racing heart to calm. the palace, with its sprawling halls and myriad of secrets, was a dangerous place for someone like you—a place where one wrong move could mean disaster. but you couldn’t let yourself be consumed by fear or anger. you had to stay sharp.

as your breathing evened out, you heard footsteps echoing through the hallway. panic gripped you again as you realized who it was—baekhyun, the tenth prince. he was still convinced he recognized you correctly and was now on the prowl, searching for you. you quickly ducked behind a pillar, watching him from your hiding place. he moved with eagerness, his eyes scanning every nook and cranny as he walked. you bit your lip, hoping he would pass by without noticing you. then, he stopped in front of a door, peering through a small tear in the fabric that covered it.

you tensed, realizing where he was looking. on the other side of that door was chaeyeon, who had no idea she was being watched. baekhyun’s eyes widened with curiosity as he leaned in closer, clearly intrigued by what he was seeing. you felt a surge of anger. it was one thing to be an immature prince, but this—this was crossing a line.

before you could react, chaeyeon suddenly looked up and saw him. her eyes went wide with horror, and she let out a sharp scream that echoed through the hallway. the sound startled baekhyun, and he stumbled back from the door, his face pale with shock. without thinking, he turned and ran, his feet slipping on the polished floor as he tried to make a hasty escape. but he didn’t get far.

you stepped out from your hiding place, planting yourself firmly in his path. your eyes narrowed with determination, you crossed your arms over your chest, blocking his way. sang skidded to a stop, his expression a mixture of guilt and indignation. “what are you doing?” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to regain his composure. “move aside!”

you didn’t budge. “where do you think you’re going, prince baekhyun?” you asked, your voice stern, it almost sounded like a grandmother scolding an errant schoolboy. “you think you can just run off after what you did?”

his eyes darted around, as if looking for an escape route. “i didn’t do anything!” he protested, though his voice lacked conviction. “that slave—she’s lying! she can’t prove anything!” his mouth opened and closed as he fumbled for a response, but you cut him off, taking a step closer to him. “don’t lie, i saw it clearly,” you said, your voice firm. “what you did was wrong, and you need to apologize.”

the prince’s face twisted with a mix of outrage and disbelief. “apologize? to a slave?” he scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “i’m a prince! i don’t bow to the likes of her—or you, for that matter!” but you didn’t back down. “you may be a prince, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat people like that,” you shot back. “you owe her an apology, and i won’t let you leave until you give it.”

his eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you could see the childish petulance rising in him. he turned on his heel, determined to storm off, but you weren’t about to let him go that easily. you reached out and grabbed the edge of his cloak, pulling him back. “let go of me!” he shouted, trying to shake you off. he shoved you hard, and you stumbled back, crashing to the ground. the impact sent a fresh wave of anger surging through you, and as you sat there, stunned, you decided you’d had enough.

without a second thought, you lunged forward, grabbing him by the ankle and yanking him off balance. he yelped in surprise as he went down, flailing his arms in a futile attempt to stay upright. the two of you hit the ground with a thud, and before he could recover, you pounced on him, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “what are you—?” he began, but his words were cut off as you pulled his head back, your eyes blazing with fury.

“you think you can just shove me around and get away with it?” you growled, your voice low and dangerous. “i don’t care if you’re a prince—i’ll still kick your ass.” he tried to push you off, his hands scrabbling at your arms, but you held on tight, refusing to let go. his struggles only fueled your anger, and before you knew it, the two of you were engaged in a full-on tussle, rolling across the ground in a tangle of limbs.

baekhyun managed to get one arm around your neck, pulling you into a headlock, but you were too fired up to care. you twisted and turned, using every ounce of strength you had to break free. when his grip loosened for just a moment, you sank your teeth into his arm, biting down hard. “ow! you bit me!” he howled, letting go of you in shock. but before he could recover, you kicked him in the side, sending him sprawling onto his back. you didn’t give him a chance to get up. you climbed on top of him, your fists clenched, and started smacking him repeatedly.

“spoiled brat,” you hissed, each word punctuated by a slap. “you think you can do whatever you want, but i won’t let you! you’re a pervert, a peeping tom—” sang flinched with each blow, his hands raised in a feeble attempt to protect his face. “stop! you’re going to regret this!” he shouted, but his words only fueled your rage.

“i’ll regret it?” you spat, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “you’re the one who should be regretting everything. you think i’m going to let you get away with this? not a chance!” his eyes blazed with fury, but there was also a flicker of fear in them. “you won’t escape unscathed, you know that?” he warned, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

but you were too caught up in your fury to care. you grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up so that your faces were inches apart. “we’ll see about that,” you hissed, before delivering a final, mighty head-butt. the impact stunned both of you, the force of it reverberating through your skull. baekhyun’s head snapped back, and he let out a pained groan, his eyes glazing over as he struggled to stay conscious. you, too, felt the dizziness wash over you, but you refused to let it show.

with him dazed beneath you, you rolled up your sleeve, ready to deliver a doozy of a slap that would leave a mark. but just as you were about to bring your hand down, a strong grip caught your wrist, stopping you mid-swing. you looked up, startled, and found yourself staring into the amused eyes of namjoon. his hand was wrapped around your wrist, holding it firmly but not painfully. he seemed almost entertained by the sight of you and sang sprawled out on the ground like children caught in a schoolyard brawl.

“what do you think you’re doing?” namjoon asked, his voice calm and composed, but with an undercurrent of amusement that made your blood boil even more. you gaped at him in surprise, struggling to find the words. “i—he—” you stammered, trying to pull your wrist free from his grasp, but namjoon’s hold was unyielding.

before you could say more, baekhyun, still reeling from the head-butt, tried to charge at you, his face twisted in anger. “let me go! she—she attacked me!” he yelled, his voice shaking with indignation. but hansol appeared just in time, stepping between the two of them with a stern expression. “that’s enough, baekhyun,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “there are eyes watching. we can’t afford to make a scene here.”

baekhyun glared at him, his chest heaving with fury, but he knew better than to argue with his elder brother. with a final huff of frustration, he flounced off, storming down the hallway in a fit. namjoon finally released your wrist, and you scrambled to your feet, your heart still pounding from the confrontation. you couldn’t believe what had just happened—the fight, the princes, and now namjoon, standing there with that infuriatingly calm expression.

you narrowed your eyes at him, the anger from before flaring up once more. “and what about you?” you demanded. the anger that had fueled your fight with sang still simmered beneath your skin, and now it was directed entirely at namjoon. “you’re not getting away without an apology.”

his brow arched, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. “an apology?” he repeated, as if the concept was entirely foreign to him. “who are you to demand such a thing from me?” you squared your shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. “someone who deserves respect, that’s who,” you shot back. “or do you only apologize to people who share your bloodline? because if that’s the case, then maybe you should start practicing, seeing as you’re on such thin ice with your brothers.”

his eyes darkened at that, the playful glint disappearing as something more dangerous took its place. he stepped closer, towering over you, his presence suddenly more imposing. “so, if you’re a slave, i ignore you,” he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. “but if you were a princess, i’d bow at your feet? is that what you’re saying?”

you held your ground, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “i’m saying respect should be given regardless of status. but clearly, that’s a concept beyond your understanding.” for a moment, there was silence between you, the tension thick in the air. then, without warning, namjoon leaned in, his face inches from yours, his voice dropping to a whisper. “when i do apologize,” he said slowly, each word enunciated with chilling precision, “it means you’ll die.” before you could respond, namjoon turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing. his words echoed in your ears, the warning clear, but so too was the challenge.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the palace grounds as you made your way to the bathing pools. the path was quiet, the only sounds your footsteps and the occasional rustle of leaves in the night breeze. the stillness of the night mirrored the turmoil within you. the jisoo man you’d seen earlier—was he real, or had your desperate mind conjured him from nothing? it felt like a sign, divine or otherwise, a spark of hope that there was a way to return home. you desperately needed to leave goryeo, especially with the looming punishment for hitting a prince hanging over your head. every step toward the bathing pools solidified your resolve. if there was even the slightest chance that jisoo held the key to your escape, you had to find him.

the pools were a serene sight, surrounded by tall trees that shielded them from the rest of the palace. you hesitated for a moment, peering into the dark waters before slipping into the pool. the water was cool, a refreshing contrast to the heat that had built up in your body from your frantic thoughts. you submerged yourself, holding your breath as long as you could, as if the water could wash away the fear and anxiety knotting in your chest. when you finally emerged, gasping for air, your eyes locked onto a figure standing at the edge of the pool.

namjoon. his mask was off, revealing the multitude of scars crisscrossing his back and torso, alongside the gash on his eye. the moonlight accentuated the lines of his disfigurement, a stark reminder of the pain he must have endured. his gaze was fixed on the still water, lost in thought, until your sudden appearance shattered the silence.

his head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. for a moment, the two of you were frozen, caught in each other’s gaze. then, in a swift motion, namjoon’s hand flew to his face, covering the scarred eye with a mix of shame and fear. “did you see?” he asked, his voice hesitant, almost childlike in its vulnerability. you could only stare, your mind blank with shock. Tthe sight of his scars, the rawness of his question, rendered you speechless. but his expression darkened at your silence. he stepped closer, and before you could react, his hand shot out, grabbing you by the throat.

“i asked if you saw!” he bellowed, his grip tightening. the suddenness of the attack, coupled with the sheer strength behind it, made your heart race in terror. “please, please,” you gasped, your hands clawing at his arm in a desperate attempt to free yourself. “i won’t say anything! i swear.”

namjoon’s eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of deceit. the intensity of his gaze was suffocating, but you forced yourself to meet it, praying he would believe you. “forget me,” he ordered, his voice low and menacing. “forget what you saw here tonight.” you nodded jerkily, too afraid to do anything else. after what felt like an eternity, he released you, his hand trembling slightly as he backed away. he grabbed his mask and clothes, casting one last look at you before turning on his heel and disappearing into the night.

as he left, a small object fell from his grasp, unnoticed by him in his haste. you waited until you were sure he was gone before approaching the spot where it had landed. it was a hairpin, intricately designed, delicate in its craftsmanship. you picked it up, holding it gingerly in your hand. it was a small thing, but something about it felt significant, as if it held a piece of his story. clutching the hairpin to your chest, you slowly made your way back to the palace. the long walk back gave you time to think, to process everything that had happened. your heart still raced from the encounter, but beneath the fear, there was a growing realization that namjoon wasn’t just the cold, unfeeling prince you had initially taken him for.

by the time you reached the entrance of the household, the entire family was waiting for you outside. their faces were a mix of worry and anger, and your stomach dropped at the sight. “where have you been?” lady ja demanded, stepping forward with an air of authority. her tone was sharp, but the underlying concern was unmistakable. “you left without a word! the whole household has been worried sick.”

the word “family” struck a chord within you, and you blinked in surprise. It was such a simple thing, but hearing it made something inside you shift. you looked around at the faces surrounding you, at the worried expressions of the servants, the stern gaze of lady ja, and something clicked into place.

“I’ve… come home,” you whispered to yourself, the words heavy with realization. and for the first time since you’d arrived in this strange world, it didn’t feel so foreign. you didn’t feel so lost. there was still much you didn’t understand, still so much to figure out, but in that moment, you felt a small, tentative sense of belonging.

queen jinyoung soaked in the warm bath, her body submerged beneath the surface, save for her head resting against the smooth edge of the porcelain tub. steam rose in delicate wisps, curling around her face and obscuring the sharpness of her features. the water was scented with jasmine and lavender, calming scents that usually soothed her nerves. but tonight, they failed to quiet the storm brewing in her mind.

she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting back to the recent conversation she had with her eldest son, chaehee. it had been late at night, the palace shrouded in darkness, when he had come to her chambers. chaehee was always careful, always discreet, and he knew better than to be seen sneaking into his mother’s quarters at such an hour. the candles flickered as he entered, casting his face in a dance of light and shadow, highlighting the tension etched into his brow.

“we can’t wait any longer,” chaehee had said, his voice low and urgent. “the rumors are spreading faster than we anticipated. the court is abuzz with talk that the king may abdicate the throne to tae.”

jinyoung had felt her chest tighten at his words. she had known this day would come, had prepared for it, but the reality of it was still a bitter pill to swallow. taehyung, the crown prince, was favored by the king in ways that none of her sons were. he was seen as the rightful heir, the embodiment of everything the king wished to pass on to the next generation. but jinyoung knew better. taehyung was a threat—a threat to her sons, to their future, to everything she had fought so hard to secure.

“we need to speed things up,” she had murmured, her fingers gripping the armrest of her chair with a white-knuckled intensity. “the upcoming ceremony is our best chance. if we’re going to eliminate tae, it has to be then.” chaehee had nodded, his eyes gleaming with cold determination. “leave it to me, mother. i’ll ensure everything goes according to plan.”

“see that you do,” jinyoung had replied, her voice steely. “we cannot afford any mistakes.”

now, as she lay in the bath, those words echoed in her mind. the plan was set into motion, and there was no turning back. the fate of her sons rested on the success of this plot. her heart pounded with a mixture of anxiety and resolve. if tae were to ascend the throne, her family’s future would be in jeopardy. but if they succeeded—if they succeeded, her sons would finally have the power and recognition they deserved.

she closed her eyes, letting the warm water soothe her aching muscles, but not her troubled thoughts. the image of chaehee’s face, so full of confidence and ruthlessness, stayed with her. she had raised him well, molded him into the man he needed to be in this cutthroat world. but even as she took pride in his ambition, there was a part of her that worried. the stakes were higher than ever, and if they failed—no, she couldn’t think of that. failure was not an option.

the following day, the princes gathered in the training grounds for one final run-through of their sword dance. the air was thick with anticipation, the weight of the upcoming ceremony hanging over them like a shroud. taehyung stood at the front, watching the princes with a critical eye as they practiced the intricate choreography. the dance was a vital part of the ritual, a symbol of the unity and strength of the royal family as they drove out the demons from the palace.

the princes moved in perfect synchronization, their swords slicing through the air with practiced precision. tae couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as he observed them. despite the tension that often simmered beneath the surface, they were still his blood, and they had trained long and hard for this moment. as they completed the final sequence, tae’s lips curved into a rare smile of approval. “well done,” he praised, his voice carrying over the training grounds. “we’re ready.”

tenth prince baekhyun, panting slightly from exertion, turned to thirteenth prince kyeom with a mischievous grin. “do you think she’ll be here today?” he asked, a hint of eagerness in his tone. daniel smirked, catching the excited glint in baekhyun’s eyes. “who? the one who gave you that lovely black eye?”

the other princes chuckled, and baekhyun’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “it wasn’t like that!” he protested, though his smile betrayed him. “sure it wasn’t,” chaehee drawled, his voice laced with amusement. “you just happened to trip into her fist, is that it?”

the teasing continued, lightening the mood among the brothers. even namjoon allowed himself a small smile at baekhyun’s expense. but as soon as he caught hansol’s gaze on him, that smile faded, replaced by the stoic mask he usually wore. hansol’s eyes were thoughtful, as though he was trying to puzzle out something about namjoon, but he said nothing.

meanwhile, chaehee’s attention was drawn to a line of black-clad men entering the grounds, their faces obscured by demon masks. they were part of the ritual, their role to represent the evil spirits that the royal family would symbolically banish. but to hyun, they were more than just performers. he had chosen them carefully, ensuring that they were loyal to his cause. his eyes flickered with a brief, calculating light as he watched them take their positions.

but chaehee wasn’t the only one with a plan. unbeknownst to him, tae had been working on his own counterplay. the crown prince had always been astute, quick to sense when something was amiss, and he wasn’t blind to the undercurrents of tension surrounding the ceremony. that’s why, in a quiet moment before the ritual began, he sought out namjoon. the exchange of masks was swift, and soon namjoon was clad in the elaborate costume of the crown prince, his face hidden behind a mask that bore the markings of leadership. taehyung donned a simpler outfit, blending in with the other princes as they prepared for the ceremony.

the palace courtyard was packed with onlookers, all eager to witness the grand ritual. the air was thick with the scent of incense, and the rhythmic beat of drums set the tone for the performance. namjoon took the lead position, his presence commanding as he stood at the forefront of the princes. to everyone watching, he was the crown prince, the one who would lead them in driving out the demons.

the ritual began, a carefully choreographed mix of martial arts and dance. namjoon moved with fluid grace, his sword cutting through the air in perfect harmony with the rhythm of the drums. the other princes followed his lead, their movements synchronized as they played their part in the elaborate display. as the dance progressed, the demon-masked men entered the scene, their presence dark and ominous. they advanced toward the princes, their swords drawn, and the real battle began. namjoon took them on with an impressive display of skill, his movements precise and controlled. he danced between them, his sword clashing against theirs in a series of carefully timed strikes.

chaehee, also masked, joined namjoon in the fight, their swords working in tandem as they recited an incantation to drive out the demons. the performance was flawless, a testament to the hours of practice they had put in. but then, something unexpected happened. more masked men appeared, descending from above like shadows. their arrival was sudden and unplanned, and immediately, the king and jisoo knew that something was wrong. the newcomers weren’t part of the ritual—they were assassins.

the atmosphere shifted in an instant, the crowd’s murmurs turning into gasps of alarm as the assassins drew their swords and charged at namjoon. jisoo’s voice rang out, calling for the soldiers to protect the king, and the royal guards surged forward, surrounding the king’s platform. namjoon, still masked and mistaken for the crown prince, found himself at the center of the attack. he fought back with fierce determination, his sword moving in a blur as he defended himself against the onslaught. but the odds were overwhelming, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t fend them off alone.

hansol was the first to realize that something was amiss. without hesitation, he charged into the fray, his sword flashing as he cut down the attackers. the other princes followed suit, their faces set in grim resolve as they joined the battle. together, they evened the numbers, driving back the assassins with a renewed vigor. chaehee caught sight of one of the demons—the very man he had conspired with. their eyes met through the slits in their masks, and in that brief exchange, a silent understanding passed between them. hyun knew this was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment to strike and make it look like an accident.

with calculated precision, he maneuvered himself closer to namjoon. the sounds of clashing swords and the shouts of the combatants filled the air, masking the tension that thrummed between the two brothers. namjoon was fully engrossed in fending off another attacker when a third made its move. he twisted his sword in a way that seemed unintentional, a misstep in the dance of battle, and his blade sliced across namjoon’s arm.

he gasped as pain seared through him, his sword slipping from his grasp as he staggered backward. the world seemed to slow as he looked down at the wound, blood soaking into the fine fabric of his costume. for a moment, he was disoriented, his mind reeling from the unexpected betrayal. and then, as if on cue, one of the assassins saw his opportunity. the masked figure lunged at him, sword raised for the kill. namjoon, weakened and caught off guard, could do nothing but brace himself for the inevitable.

but at the last possible second, another figure intervened. a masked prince—swift, precise, and unyielding—threw himself between namjoon and the assassin, deflecting the blow with a resounding clash of steel. namjoon barely had time to register what had happened before he was pushed aside, the masked prince taking his place in the fight. the assassin hesitated, momentarily thrown off by the sudden shift, and in that brief hesitation, the masked prince drove his sword through the attacker’s chest. the demon crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

the remaining assassins, sensing that their plan was unraveling, began to retreat. hyun, still masked, barked orders at the soldiers, commanding them to chase down the fleeing attackers. the courtyard was a chaotic whirlwind of movement as the soldiers pursued the assassins, determined to capture them before they could escape. the king, who had been watching the scene unfold with mounting dread, hurried down from his platform the moment the danger had passed. his gaze was frantic as he looked for taehyung, his fear palpable. but when he reached the center of the courtyard, he stopped short, his breath catching in his throat.

the mask had been removed, and instead of tae, he found namjoon standing there, clutching his wounded arm. the realization struck the king like a blow, and for a moment, he was speechless, the words caught in his throat. “where is taehyung?” the king demanded, his voice tight with fear and urgency.

namjoon, already in pain and now reeling from the king’s clear distress, felt a pang in his chest that had nothing to do with his injury. he swallowed hard, the hurt evident in his eyes, as he struggled to find the words to respond. the king’s priority had always been tae, and now, in this moment of crisis, it was clearer than ever.

before namjoon could respond, tae stepped forward, still clad in his simpler attire, but with a regal bearing that could not be mistaken. “i’m here,” he said calmly, though there was a sharpness in his tone that hadn’t been there before. the king’s shoulders sagged in relief, and he immediately moved to embrace tae, his concern for mamjoon seemingly forgotten in the wake of his son’s safety. tae, however, held himself stiffly, his eyes flicking toward namjoon with an unreadable expression.

queen jinyoung, watching from a distance, felt her heart sink as she realized her carefully laid plans had been thwarted. the ceremony had been the perfect opportunity to eliminate taehyung, but now, it was clear that her plot had failed. worse, her eldest son had been implicated in the attempt on namjoon’s life. she knew there would be consequences, and the realization filled her with dread.

namjoon, his face pale from the loss of blood, suddenly spoke, his voice cutting through the tension in the courtyard. “i’ll catch them,” he declared, his tone firm despite his injury. without waiting for permission or acknowledging the pain in his arm, he turned and began to walk away, his steps purposeful and determined.

“namjoon, wait—” taehyung called out, moving to follow, but the king grabbed his arm, holding him back. “no, taehyung,” the king said, his voice filled with urgency. “you can’t go after him. it’s too dangerous.” his eyes flashed with frustration, but he stopped in his tracks, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. he watched helplessly as namjoon continued on, his figure growing smaller as he disappeared into the palace corridors.

the city streets blurred past namjoon as he sprinted through the narrow alleys, his focus entirely on the figures moving with alarming speed across the rooftops. the assassins, their dark silhouettes stark against the night sky, seemed to dance effortlessly between the buildings, but namjoon was relentless. his breath came in sharp bursts, each exhale mixing with the cool night air as he pursued them with a single-minded determination.

his boots pounded against the cobblestones, his cloak billowing behind him like a dark specter in the night. the chase led him out of the city and into the dense woods that bordered the outskirts. the trees loomed tall and foreboding, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching out to ensnare the unwary. namjoon’s heart raced, adrenaline pumping as he navigated the underbrush, the moonlight casting eerie shadows across his path.

he finally caught sight of the assassins again, their figures moving with purpose through the trees. his gaze locked onto one of them—a particularly formidable figure—whose sword gleamed ominously in the moonlight. with a burst of speed, he closed the distance, drawing his own sword with a metallic hiss. the confrontation was immediate and intense. the assassin met namjoon’s blade with a skilled parry, the clash of steel echoing through the woods. they circled each other, eyes locked, each strike and counterstrike a testament to their training and resolve. mamjoon’s movements were precise and calculated, each swing of his sword a carefully measured attack. the assassin, equally adept, responded with a series of fluid, almost graceful maneuvers, his own blade a deadly extension of his will. it was his lifeline, it was what his second family taught him to do. the rumor had long swept the palace that namjoon had hunted down every wolf in the area, and he only proved it to be true.

as they fought, you had been wandering through the woods, taking a break from your sightseeing. the peaceful silence of the forest had been disrupted by the sounds of the fierce battle, and curiosity had drawn you further into the woods. the clash of swords was soon replaced by more hushed, but still tense, sounds as you stumbled upon a secluded clearing.

there, hidden behind the trees, you watched in horror as a group of masked assassins gathered around a figure you recognized as prince chaehee. the assassins, their heads bowed in deference, stood in a semi-circle around him. his expression was cold and calculating as he surveyed the group, his eyes gleaming with a ruthless edge. with a wave of his hand, he dismissed the failed assassins, his voice a low murmur of disdain. the air grew tense, and you watched in growing dread as his guards stepped forward. without hesitation, the guards drew their blades and executed the failed assassins. the silent, efficient killings were over before you could fully process what was happening.

you gasped involuntarily, the sound escaping before you could stifle it. the noise was faint, but in the quiet of the night, it was enough. chaehee’s head snapped around, his eyes scanning the shadows for the source of the disturbance. panic surged through you, and you took a step back, trying to retreat quietly. you bolted, stumbling through the underbrush as fast as you could manage. the woods seemed to close in around you, branches snagging at your clothes as you fled.

namjoon had managed to subdue the assassin he was fighting. panting heavily, he pressed the blade of his sword against the assassin’s throat, his eyes cold and unyielding. “tell me who you’re working for,” he demanded, his voice a low growl. the assassin, still reeling from the fight, hesitated. namjoon’s grip was unrelenting, and the assassin’s eyes darted nervously. his eyes flicked towards the trees, sensing that something was off. just as the assassin seemed on the verge of breaking, you burst into the clearing, breathless and disheveled.

“help!” you gasped, staggering towards namjoon. “you don’t understand, i saw—” before you could finish, the assassin saw an opportunity. he grabbed you, holding his sword to your throat with a threatening snarl. namjoon’s eyes widened in shock, his blade momentarily faltering. namjoon’s expression hardened, and he raised his sword, pointing it directly at your face. the cold steel of the blade felt like a chilling weight on your skin, and you could see the glint of the edge as it pressed against your neck.

“please,” you begged, your voice trembling. “just let me go.” namjoon’s smirk was icy and detached. “one woman means nothing to me,” he said, his tone devoid of sympathy. “tell me what i want to know.”

the assassin wavered, his grip on the sword loosening slightly. namjoon’s gaze was steely, his resolve unshaken. he pressed the assassin further, his voice a harsh demand for the name. victory seemed close at hand when you took a desperate measure. with a burst of adrenaline, you bit the assassin’s hand, the sudden pain causing him to stagger back.

the assassin stumbled in fury, moving to strike you again. namjoon’s reaction was swift, but before he could intervene, a dagger flew through the air, embedding itself in the assassin’s head. the figure slumped to the ground, lifeless, as hansol stepped into view. his arrival was dramatic but unwelcome for namjoon. the older prince’s presence was a complication namjoon had not anticipated. his eyes flashed with anger as he turned to confront hansol.

“you ruined everything,” he snapped, his sword still pressed close to your bloody neck, grabbed you roughly, his expression a mixture of frustration and rage. “why did you have to interfere?”

hanaol’s eyes were sharp and unwavering as he faced namjoon. with a flick of his wrist, he drew his sword, pointing it menacingly at his neck. “let her go,” haneul ordered, his voice firm and commanding. namjoon’s gaze met his, and in a swift, fluid motion, he whirled to clash swords with him. the metal of their blades met with a resounding clash, sparks flying as they engaged in a tense duel. the forest seemed to hold its breath as the two princes fought, their movements a deadly ballet of skill and precision.

“why should i?” namjoon spat, his voice laced with frustration. “this woman cost me answers. i won’t let her go until i get what I need.”

the night air was still and heavy as you stood among the trees, the remnants of the chaotic battle echoing in the distance. namjoon’s grip was a vice around your throat, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and disbelief. hansol, standing nearby, observed the scene with a stern expression. “you’re saying you saw a group of assassins being killed?” namjoon’s voice was a harsh whisper, his grip tightening as he tried to extract the truth from you. “by someone’s guards?”

you nodded frantically, trying to catch your breath. “yes, i swear. they were executed. i saw it happen.” namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “show us where.”

you led them through the woods, your heart pounding as you moved swiftly through the darkened paths. the eerie silence that followed was suffocating. when you finally arrived at the spot, the clearing was empty, devoid of any evidence of the massacre you had described. you looked around, your voice trembling. “i swear, it was here. they were killed by guards. i saw it with my own eyes.”

namjoon’s patience snapped. he grabbed you roughly by the neck, his face a mask of fury. “you’re lying,” he growled. “there’s nothing here.” fear surged through you, and you gasped for breath. “i’m not lying!” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. “i saw it. i swear i did.”

hansol had been the one examining the surroundings. his eyes caught a subtle detail on one of the trees—a patch of blood, faint but unmistakable. “look,” he said, pointing at the stain. “they were definitely here.”

namjoon’s grip on your neck loosened as he turned to inspect the bloody patch. His expression shifted from anger to contemplation. “so whoever killed them is the one who hired them,” he deduced. he turned back to you, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “what else did you see? who else was there?”

panic gripped you, and you shook your head frantically. “i couldn’t make out the face. It was too dark, too chaotic.” namjoon’s eyes flashed with anger once more. “you’re lying. i know you are. don't you know i'll kill you for it?”

the threat hung in the air like a dark cloud, and your sobs grew louder as the weight of his words sank in. “why are you so cruel?” you cried out, your voice cracking. “what have i done to deserve this?”

he seemed momentarily taken aback by your anguish. his expression softened ever so slightly, but his resolve remained firm. “you’re in my way,” he said coldly. “i need to solve this issue, and if you’re not helping, you’re a liability.”

through your sobs, a memory surfaced—a fleeting image of the killer. you recalled a detail that had seemed strange in the midst of the chaos. “he had fur on him,” you blurted out. “i saw fur. i don’t know whose it was, but there was fur.”

namjoon and hansol exchanged a look of recognition. they knew immediately who the fur might belong to. namjoon’s eyes widened with realization. “if you didn’t see his face, then we’re still dealing with a mystery, but that clue is crucial. i need to find him now.” without another word, he turned and sprinted back towards the city, his figure quickly disappearing into the night. you were left standing in the woods, your body trembling with sobs.

hansol, watching you from a distance, observed your emotional state with a mixture of curiosity and concern. he approached you slowly, his expression softening. despite the gravity of the situation, he found something oddly endearing in your distress. he hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and gently enveloped you in his arms. his embrace was warm and reassuring, a comforting contrast to the harshness you had just experienced. “it’s okay,” he murmured softly, his voice soothing. “you’ll be alright. i promise.”

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his robes as you wept uncontrollably. hansol’s hand gently stroked your back, shushing you softly. “you did your best,” he said, his tone calming. “just try to stay calm. we’ll figure this out.” as the tears slowly subsided, you could feel haneul’s reassuring presence grounding you, offering a sliver of comfort amidst the turmoil. the night continued to envelop the woods in its dark embrace, but for a moment, in his arms, you felt a fragile sense of security.

you woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the windows, a gentle warmth settling over you as you stirred from sleep. the sudden clatter of footsteps and the murmur of voices drew you from your dreams. you blinked groggily and found lady ja standing beside your bed, her face etched with concern. “wake up,” she said, her voice a mix of urgency and worry. “i’ve been looking for you. what happened to your neck?”

you touched the tender area where the assassin's blade had grazed you. “it’s nothing,” you assured her, offering a reassuring smile despite the sting. “i’m fine. it’s just a scratch.” she didn’t look entirely convinced but let it go, focusing instead on the bustle around her. the other maids were helping her sort through a collection of old gowns, meticulously folding and packing them.

“what’s all this for?” you asked, observing the activity with curiosity. “it’s for a donation,” lady ja explained, her tone carrying a hint of pride. “the king has these events from time to time, where old clothes are given to those in need. hansol goes to oversee the donations.”

you tilted your head, thinking. “does he go alone?” she nodded, confused. “yes, he usually does. why do you ask?” you shrugged. “i think you should go with him. it’s what husbands and wives do, isn’t it?” her eyes lit up with a soft smile. “is that so?”

you nodded enthusiastically. “of course. and if you want, i could even do your makeup for you. it would be my pleasure.” lady ja’s gratitude was evident in her eyes. “would you really? that would be wonderful.”

“absolutely,” you said, eager to help. you busied yourself with powders, oils, and brushes, working diligently to enhance her features. as you applied the makeup, you apologized for your lack of experience. “i’m not quite used to this yet. i hope it turns out alright.”

she seemed pleasantly surprised as you finished. “you did a marvelous job,” she said, taking the mirror you handed her. her eyes widened in amazement. “you’ve made me look so youthful.” you smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “i’m glad you like it. enjoy yourself today.”

to your surprise, she had other plans. “no, you should come with me. i’d like your company.”

you both ventured out together, joining the others in distributing food to the children. from a distance, hansol observed you with a warm, approving smile. the scene was bustling with activity. you were handing out treats to the eager children when a small altercation caught your attention. one of the boys snatched a treat from his friend’s hand and dashed off, leaving his friend in tears.

without hesitation, you pursued the boy, your heart pounding as you caught up to him. you knelt to his level, pinching his cheek gently. “is it okay to steal from a friend?” you asked softly. the boy shook his head, eyes wide with remorse. “then,” you said with a smile, “how about we make a deal? if you give the treat back, i’ll give you both two each.” the boy’s face brightened as he returned the stolen treat. you handed out the additional treats, and the children’s smiles returned. lady ja watched, her eyes filled with admiration, while hansol’s smile broadened. the scene was one of simple joy, and it seemed to resonate deeply with both of them.

you found chayeon in the corridor, her calm demeanor contrasting sharply with your rising panic. your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve as you approached her. “chayeon,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “what’s the punishment for hitting a prince? is it severe?” she glanced up from her tasks, a hint of discomfort in her eyes. “it’s not something to take lightly,” she said vaguely, her tone evasive. “it could be quite serious.”

before you could probe further, the clatter of footsteps and the sight of two guards alerted you to prince baekhyun’s arrival. he climbed the stairs with an air of authority, his gaze fixed on you.

“you should show more gratitude,” he said as he approached, his tone unexpectedly light. you blinked, confused. “gratitude for what?”

his expression shifted awkwardly. “i had to beg the king to let you go unpunished.” you were taken aback by his unexpected revelation. “why would you do that?”

baekhyun hesitated, unable to find the right words. the silence stretched between you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if his actions stemmed from something more personal. the thought that he might be harboring feelings for you crossed your mind, but he remained tight-lipped. before you could voice your curiosity, you gave a sincere, “thank you.”

you turned to leave, but sang’s voice halted you. “wait,” he called, his tone shifting to something more casual. “you should repay me for this favor.”

you arched an eyebrow. “repay you how?” baekhyun’s gaze softened slightly, though he still maintained his composure. “i want to see you at least once a day, every day.”

a laugh bubbled from your lips, both relieved and amused. “that’s the least i can do,” you said, beginning to walk away. “consider this our first day,” he called after you, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. with a final nod, you walked away, feeling a strange mix of relief and curiosity about the new arrangement.

the night was cloaked in darkness as namjoon raced through the narrow, twisting paths leading to the hidden temple. his breath came in ragged bursts, the cold night air stinging his lungs as he pushed his horse to its limits. the news of the renounced monks taking refuge in an isolated temple had reached him in the midst of the chaos, and he knew he had to act swiftly. the steep, rocky hillside loomed ahead, its shadowed contours barely discernible against the moonlit sky.

the temple was perched precariously at the top of the hill, its ancient stone walls weathered and worn. as he approached, he could see the flickering glow of torches from within the temple's crumbling walls. he dismounted swiftly, drawing his sword as he climbed the final ascent. his mind raced with thoughts of the assassins who had attacked him, their inability to speak striking him as odd. he recalled tales of monks who had their tongues cut out as punishment, their silence a symbol of their penance.

reaching the temple, he found the entrance unguarded, the heavy wooden doors hanging loosely on their hinges. the interior was dimly lit by a few scattered torches, their light casting eerie shadows on the cracked and crumbling walls. the air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and incense, a remnant of long-forgotten rituals. the temple seemed abandoned, but an unsettling sensation of being watched prickled at the back of his neck.

he closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the subtle sounds around him. the rustle of fabric, the faint creak of wooden beams, and the whisper of unseen movements made his senses keenly aware. suddenly, a figure lunged at him from the darkness, a dagger gleaming in the dim light. instinctively, namjoon deflected the attack with his sword, the blade clashing with metal. he spun around, narrowly avoiding a thrust from a spear, and with a swift and decisive motion, cut down the attacker.

the clamor of combat erupted as more figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding namjoon. he fought with a fierce determination, his movements fluid and precise. his sword sliced through the air, each strike calculated and deadly. the attackers were relentless, but namjoon’s skill was unmatched. he dispatched the first wave of opponents with ruthless efficiency, their bodies falling to the ground as he pressed on.

“where is your leader?” he demanded, his voice cold and commanding. when he received no reply, he growled in frustration. “is there no one here who can speak?” a burly man, his face concealed by a demon mask, charged at him. with a practiced swing, namjoon cut the man’s throat, the blood spraying in a grotesque arc. the temple’s interior was now a scene of carnage, the floor slick with blood and littered with the fallen bodies of the monks. namjoon’s sword flashed through the darkness, his movements a deadly dance of precision and power.

the fight was brutal, each clash of steel and every cry of pain adding to the growing chaos. namjoon’s dexterity with both the long sword and short dagger was apparent, his skill honed through years of training and combat. the battle seemed to stretch on endlessly, but namjoon’s resolve never wavered. his efficiency was such that within minutes, the last of the monks lay defeated on the cold stone floor.

the silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant crackle of flames. namjoon stood alone amid the carnage, his breath coming in heavy, labored gasps. just then, the doors to a nearby building burst open with a deafening crash, and a lone monk stepped out, his eyes cold and calculating. he bowed to namjoon, his expression inscrutable.

“are you the one responsible for this?” namjoon asked, his voice laced with steel. the monk’s gaze was unwavering. “these men had their tongues removed as punishment for their grave sins,” he said. “i have looked after them.”

namjoon’s face hardened. “then all i have to do is get rid of you.” the monk’s eyes flickered with a hint of something—fear, perhaps. “for whom are you doing this?” he asked. “does your mother know?”

namjoon’s smile was cold and dangerous. “a place of no speech, yet someone here has a lot of words,” he replied. he raised his sword, the blade gleaming in the flickering light. “you’ll die for her sake.” the monk’s defense was swift but ultimately futile. namjoon’s first blow was deflected, but he pressed on with a series of quick, lethal slashes. the monk fell to the ground, the life draining from him as namjoon’s sword pierced his gut. as the man gurgled out his final breaths, namjoon leaned in close, his voice a deadly whisper. “you’ve lived off the queen, so now you die for her.”

with that, namjoon turned and walked away, the weight of his bloody sword heavy in his hand. the temple was already beginning to burn, the flames consuming the ancient structure in a brilliant, destructive blaze. the night was filled with the crackling of fire and the distant wail of sirens as he made his way down the hillside. as he staggered away from the burning temple, the sight of the inferno lighting up the dark sky, he found himself near the palace. his heart pounded with a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion. he needed to confront his mother, to make her understand the cost of her machinations.

in the dead of night, he slipped into the palace unnoticed, his steps silent on the cold marble floors. he made his way through the labyrinthine corridors until he reached queen jiyoung’s chambers. the door was slightly ajar, and he could see the queen sleeping soundly within. without hesitation, namjoon pushed the door open and stepped inside. his bloodied sword still dripping, he approached the bed where his mother lay. queen jiyoung stirred, her eyes opening in shock as she saw the figure looming over her. she shrank back, her face a mask of fear.

namjoon’s smile was a mix of sadness and resolve. “you will remember this night,” he said softly, his voice carrying a bitter edge. “you abandoned me, but i shall not leave. i ask only that you see me.”

the night air was still, heavy with the smoke from the burning temple. namjoon, covered in blood and soot, wandered through the quiet, his mind a tumultuous storm of rage and pain. his steps led him to a small, serene area by a river, where prayer stones were meticulously stacked by mothers who sought divine protection for their children. the sight of these humble offerings, imbued with the hopes and fears of countless families, was like a cruel reminder of the normalcy and peace he had been denied.

with a sudden, violent motion, he lashed out at the prayer stones. his sword, still slick with the blood of the monks, sliced through the air and sent a stack of stones toppling over. they tumbled and scattered across the ground, the delicate balance of their arrangement shattered. his face twisted into a mask of fury as he watched the chaos he had wrought, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps.

you had been trailing on a path of your own, yet his distress and desperation were in reach. as you saw the destruction and the storm of emotions on namjoon's face, you rushed forward to try and stop him. but as you neared, he turned and roughly shoved you away, his strength surprising and painful. you stumbled, barely catching yourself as you fell to the ground. when you looked down, your hands were smeared with the remnants of the toppled stones and, to your horror, the blood that had transferred from his.

hia laughter came out in a jagged burst, a chilling sound that reverberated through the night. “it’s the blood of those i killed today,” he declared, his voice a mix of derision and anguish. he looked at you with a wild, unhinged expression, his eyes alight with a manic energy. the laughter died in his throat as he glared at you, his anger and despair mingling in a volatile mix.

“why do you even care about these prayer stones?” he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty space. “my mother shouldn’t be here praying. she should come to me and beg for mercy instead.”

you tried to hold him back, your voice trembling but resolute. “you’re injured,” you said, hoping to redirect his attention. you meant his hand, which was gripping the sword with a force that must have caused him pain. but instead of heeding your concern, namjoon grabbed you by the collar, his grip tight and unyielding. his eyes, though fierce, held a flicker of surprise at your lack of fear.

“i told you,” he warned, his voice low and intense, “i killed people.” his words hung heavy in the air, and you met his gaze with calm understanding rather than the fear he seemed to expect. you did not flinch or recoil but remained steady, sensing the torment within him.

“i understand,” you said softly. “tell me what happened. why did you do it?”

the vulnerability in your tone seemed to reach him, and for a moment, his fierce grip loosened. he stared at you, confusion and a touch of something like relief crossing his features. he shook his head, as if trying to dispel the emotions swirling within him. “go,” he said, his voice cracking. “you don’t need to be here.”

but you stood firm. “no,” you said. “i understand more than you think. you grew up in a world where wielding a sword was a necessity, where killing was not a choice but a survival tactic. what you did today—what you’ve done—was driven by what you were taught.”

namjoon’s face was a mask of conflicted emotions, his eyes searching yours for judgment or pity. instead, he found only empathy. “but what can you do?” you continued, your voice steady and kind. “what can anyone do in a world like this? you must be feeling so miserable right now. i think i understand.”

his grip on your collar finally released, and you took a step back, giving him space. he remained where he was, his body slumped slightly as if the weight of his actions was beginning to sink in. he stared at the scattered prayer stones, his breathing ragged and uneven. you turned and began to walk away, leaving him to grapple with his grief and anger amidst the ruins of the prayer offerings. the night air was cool against your face, and the distant sounds of the village were muted. as you walked away, you glanced back once, seeing namjoon standing alone in the moonlight, the broken stones a mere reminder of the cost of his struggles.

the punishment for namjoon’s reckless act of burning down the temple had been swift and severe. though his role in thwarting the assassination attempt had earned him some leniency, the king had ordered him to be isolated from the other princes for a time—enough to reflect on his actions and the consequences they might have had. he had fulfilled his promise and did all he could to protect tae, which did not go unnoticed. he was given the right to stay. in fact, he was given the right to stay at the palace, but with rewards came consequences. he was to remain confined to a small, remote building on the palace grounds, away from the eyes of the court and the whispers that followed his every move.

the morning had been uneventful, a silence hanging heavy in the air as namjoon spent his hours alone, the weight of solitude pressing down on him. the palace, so full of life and noise, felt a world away from where he now sat, by the stream that bordered the isolated quarters. the water moved slowly, mirroring his own sluggish thoughts as he stared into the distance, lost in the turmoil of his mind.

inside the palace, the maids were gathered in a small cluster, their voices low but urgent as they debated amongst themselves. “i’m not going,” one of them whispered harshly. “i heard what he did. he’s dangerous.” another shook her head, her hands trembling as she twisted the fabric of her apron. “but someone has to take him his lunch. he hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

“then you take it,” the first maid retorted, crossing her arms defiantly. “i’m not risking my life.”

“i’ll go.” the maids turned, surprised at the sound of your voice. you stood at the edge of the group, having overheard their conversation as you approached. your expression was calm, resolute, as you looked at the tray of food they were hesitating over. “i’ll take it to him,” you repeated, stepping forward and reaching for the tray. the maids exchanged uneasy glances but made no move to stop you.

“are you sure, my lady?” chaeyeon asked, her voice laced with doubt. “they say he’s not right in the head after what happened.” you met her gaze steadily. “i’m sure.”

with the tray in hand, you made your way to the stream, your footsteps light and measured. the closer you got to namjoon’s solitary retreat, the more you could feel the tension in the air, like the calm before a storm. you found him sitting at the very end of the stream, where the water pooled in a small, quiet basin before continuing its journey downstream. he was alone, as you had expected, his figure tense as he sat with his back to you, staring into the distance.

for a moment, you hesitated, unsure if he had heard you approach. but then you gathered your resolve, stepping forward and setting the tray down on the ground beside him. the sound of the plate touching the stone was a soft, delicate clink that seemed to echo in the silence. “eat while it’s warm,” you said gently, your voice breaking the quiet.

namjoon didn’t respond, didn’t even turn to look at you. his silence was heavy, but you could sense the conflict within him, the battle between pride and despair waging just beneath the surface. you turned to leave, respecting his need for solitude, but as you took a step back, something stopped you. a frown creased your brow, and before you could think better of it, you sat back down beside him. the water flowed softly beside you, a soothing presence amidst the tension.

“i won’t say a word about what i saw,” you said quietly, your eyes fixed on the stream. you didn’t need to elaborate; you both knew what you were referring to—the prayer stones, his confession, the blood on your hands. namjoon finally turned to you, his eyes dark and intense as they searched your face. “i know,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur.

you tilted your head slightly, studying him. “how do you know? because you’ll kill me if i do?” to your surprise, namjoon’s lips curved into a small, almost incredulous smile. it was the first sign of softness you had seen from him since your encounter by the prayer stones.

“i can’t believe you’re not afraid of me,” he said, a hint of wonder in his tone. there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you, as if he couldn’t quite understand why you weren’t running from him like the others. you returned his smile, though yours was softer, more reassuring. “why would i be afraid of you?”

namjoon’s gaze faltered, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought. “you saw me without my mask,” he began, his voice tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache, “you should be afraid of an ugly face like that.” you shook your head, your expression earnest. “i could never be afraid of you,” you said softly, the sincerity in your voice undeniable. “besides, you were never ugly.”

the silence between you was thick with unspoken emotions, the air around you charged with the weight of what wasn’t said. namjoon studied you, as if searching for any hint of deceit in your words, but finding none. then, as if realizing the futility of his own brooding, he released a small sigh. “you should go,” he said, though there was no force behind his words. “this isn’t a place for you.”

you forced yourself to feign seriousness, though your heart ached for him. “eat the food,” you said, trying to bring some normalcy back to the moment. “i have to take the plates back.” his lips twitched into a faint smile, the closest thing to real warmth you had seen from him in a long while. “all right,” he conceded, reaching for the plate. you watched as he began to eat, your heart heavy with the knowledge of his pain, but also with a sense of hope that led him to think that he wasn’t as alone as he felt.

lady ja lay in her bed, her breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps as the illness that had ravaged her body slowly drained the life from her. the once vibrant, commanding presence of the lady of the house was now reduced to a frail figure, barely recognizable beneath layers of quilts. her face, once full of warmth and intelligence, was pale, her skin translucent like fragile porcelain, and her eyes were dull, clouded with the pain she could no longer voice.

beside her, hansol knelt, his tall frame bent low as he held her hand, his fingers trembling slightly as they clasped hers. he had seen her strength, her will to survive, but now all of that was slipping away, and he was powerless to stop it. the room was dim, the soft flicker of candlelight casting long shadows on the walls, as if the darkness itself was encroaching upon her. “my lady, please hold on,” he whispered, his voice thick with the desperation he could no longer contain. he squeezed her hand gently, trying to offer her whatever strength he had left. the weight of what was happening, of what he was about to lose, pressed down on him like an unbearable burden.

lady ja’s lips curled into a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, as she gazed at him with a mixture of tenderness and resignation. “your highness,” she murmured, her voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the silence of the room. “i know you don’t love me.”

her words struck him worse than a physical blow, and his eyes widened in shock, tears welling up and spilling over before he could stop them. he opened his mouth to protest, to tell her she was wrong, but the words caught in his throat, choking him with their falseness. he couldn’t lie to her, not now, not in those final moments. seeing the truth in his eyes, lady ja’s smile grew sadder, her hand—a mere shadow of its former strength—reached up to brush a stray tear from his cheek. the touch was feather-light, but it burned with the weight of everything left unsaid between them.

“i’ve seen the way you look at her,” she continued, her tone gentle, free of any bitterness or accusation. “i know you’ve grown to care for her.” haneul’s chest tightened painfully, guilt and sorrow warring within him as he struggled to keep his composure. the truth in her words was undeniable, and it tore at him to know that she had been aware of it, even as she lay dying.

“take care of her,” lady ja whispered, her voice growing weaker with each word, as though even speaking was now too great an effort. “If you can, marry her.”

the tears flowed freely now, silent but unrelenting, as hansol held her hand, feeling the life slipping away from her with each passing second. her breathing grew fainter, her chest rising and falling in a barely perceptible rhythm until, finally, it stopped altogether. her eyes fluttered shut, the last remnants of life leaving them as she passed into the silence that awaited her. for a moment, hansol was frozen, his mind struggling to comprehend that she was gone. the room seemed to hold its breath, as if the world itself had paused in reverence of her passing. he leaned over her, pressing her hand to his lips, the weight of his grief pressing him down until it felt as though he might be crushed beneath it.

it was then that you entered the room, returning home after what you had expected to be just another day. you stopped short in the doorway, your eyes landing on the scene before you—lady ja’s lifeless form on the bed, hansol hunched over her, tears staining his cheeks. panic surged through you, a cold, sharp terror that clawed at your chest and left you gasping for breath. the sobs began to tear from your throat uncontrollably, your mind refusing to accept what your eyes were seeing. you stumbled forward, your hands reaching out as if to pull her back from the brink, to undo what had already been done.

hansol turned at the sound of your cries, his expression weary and etched with sorrow, but there was something else there too—a deep, all-consuming sadness that made your heart ache. his voice was quiet, almost a whisper, as he spoke to you. “be quiet,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm, the words laden with a grief that was beyond anything you could imagine. “let’s not wake my wife.”

the absurdity of his request, of the idea that she could be woken, struck you like a physical blow, and for a moment, you stood frozen, staring at him in disbelief. the reality of the situation, the finality of her death, slowly sank in, and the sobs caught in your throat, leaving you breathless and trembling. you collapsed to your knees beside the bed, your hands covering your face as you wept, the sound muffled but filled with a raw, unfiltered pain that echoed through the room. hansol remained by lady ja’s side, his hand still holding hers, as he watched you with a look of profound sorrow. there were no words left to say, nothing that could ease the pain or make the loss any less devastating.

lady ja’s funeral was a somber affair, the sky overcast and heavy with unshed rain, as if the heavens themselves mourned her passing. the courtyard was filled with mourners, all dressed in white, the traditional color of mourning. the air was thick with the scent of incense, its curling tendrils rising like prayers to the gods above, carrying with them the sorrow and grief of those left behind. you stood among the sea of mourners, your heart a leaden weight in your chest, eyes fixed on the simple wooden casket that held lady ja’s body. it was adorned with white lilies, their delicate petals trembling in the light breeze, a cold contrast to the cold, unyielding wood that now encased her. the image of her peaceful face, so serene in death, was etched into your mind, and the tears you had fought so hard to contain began to blur your vision.

beside you, hansol was a figure of quiet devastation. his usually composed demeanor had crumbled in the face of such overwhelming loss. his eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, were fixed on the casket, his hand gripping yours with a desperation that belied his outward composure. you could feel the tremors that ran through him, the silent sobs that shook his frame as he struggled to keep his grief in check. chaeyeon stood on his other side, her small frame trembling with barely restrained emotion. her usually bright eyes were dulled with sorrow, and she clutched a small white flower in her hands, her knuckles white from the intensity of her grip. her gaze never left lady ja’s casket, and you could see the tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving glistening tracks in their wake. she had been so close to her, and now the loss of her was a wound that would take a long time to heal.

the princes had gathered as well, all of them standing in a line of solemnity. each one wore the same expression of respect and sorrow, but there was something different about the thirteenth prince, younghyun. his usually vibrant, youthful face was marred with an anguish that went beyond the collective grief of the others. his hands were clenched tightly at his sides, and you noticed how he seemed to shy away from the others, as though the weight of his emotions was too much to bear.

the ceremony passed in a blur, the priest’s words of blessing and farewell barely registering in your mind. all you could focus on was the sight of lady ja’s casket as it was slowly lowered into the ground, the finality of it hitting you with a force that nearly brought you to your knees. hansol squeezed your hand harder, as though grounding himself through your presence, and you held on just as tightly, a silent promise that you would face this together.

after the ceremony, the crowd began to disperse, each mourner paying their final respects before departing. you saw younghyun slip away from the others, his shoulders hunched, and you felt an urge to follow him. something about the way he carried himself, the way his steps faltered, tugged at your heart, and you couldn’t leave him to his grief alone.

you found him sitting on the stone steps that led to the courtyard, his face buried in his hands. his shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, and you hesitated for a moment before approaching, unsure of what to say. the last thing you wanted was to intrude on his pain, but you couldn’t stand to see him suffer alone.

“your highness,” you called softly, your voice gentle as you took a seat beside him. he didn’t look up, but his sobs quieted slightly, as though your presence alone was enough to offer some small comfort. “what’s the matter?” you asked, keeping your tone soft, hoping to coax him into opening up.

when he finally looked at you, his face was tear-streaked, his eyes red and puffy from crying. “i loved her,” he confessed, his voice breaking on the last word. you nodded, understanding the depth of his pain. “we all did,” you said, your voice filled with the same sorrow that weighed on your heart.

but he shook his head, his expression filled with a sorrow that went deeper than mere grief. “no,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “she was my first love.”

your breath caught in your throat, and you turned to him, your frown deepening in confusion. “why didn’t it work out?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

younghyun let out a bitter, humorless laugh, the sound rough and full of pain. “because hansol had her heart from the start,” he replied, his voice thick with regret. “no matter how hard i tried, no matter how much i loved her, she was always his.” his words struck you like a blow, and you felt your heart ache for him, for the love that he had never been able to claim. he had loved her so deeply, and yet it had never been enough to win her heart.

he turned to you, his gaze filled with a raw vulnerability that made your heart clench. “she said i reminded her of you,” he said, his voice breaking once more. a tear slipped down your cheek, the weight of his words hitting you with a force you hadn’t expected. you reached out, placing a comforting hand on his, and he grasped it desperately, as though it were the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.

“she would have given you a chance if she had known,” you said softly, your voice filled with the sincerity of your words. you believed that, in another time, another place, lady ja might have seen the love that younghyun held for her, and perhaps things would have been different. he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening for a moment before he released it, letting out a shuddering breath. he was silent for a long time after that, lost in his thoughts, and you stayed beside him, offering what comfort you could with your presence.

eventually, you knew you had to return to hansol’s place, to be there for him in his time of grief. you rose from the steps, giving kyeom one last look of understanding before you turned to leave. as you walked back, your mind heavy with the events of the day, you were suddenly stopped in your tracks when a hand was clamped over your mouth.

panic surged through you, your eyes widening in fear as you screamed, the sound muffled by the hand that held you. you thrashed violently, struggling to break free, but strong arms held you fast, lifting you off your feet. you were thrown onto a horse, the guards surrounding you offering no explanation as they forced you into the saddle. your heart pounded in your chest, terror gripping you as you were carried away, the familiar surroundings of the courtyard disappearing behind you. the ride to the palace was a blur of fear and confusion. you tried to make sense of what was happening, why you were being taken in such a manner, but your mind was too clouded with panic to think clearly.

when you finally arrived, you were still thrashing, your attempts to escape growing more desperate as they dragged you inside. the guards were silent, their faces expressionless as they hauled you into the grand hall where king taejo sat upon his throne, his gaze cold and calculating as he watched your approach. you forced yourself to bow, your mind racing with fear and confusion. “your majesty,” you stammered, struggling to keep your voice steady. “what is it that you needed?”

king taejo rose from his throne, his presence commanding and intimidating. he stepped down from the dais, his gaze never leaving yours as he approached, the weight of his authority pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

“i’m glad you asked,” he said, his voice smooth, almost pleasant, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine. you locked eyes with him, your fear growing with each passing second as he came to a stop before you. there was something in his gaze, something dark and possessive, that made your blood run cold.

“you will become my wife tonight,” he declared, his voice firm and unyielding.

the words hit you like a physical blow, your mind reeling in shock and horror. you had never imagined this, never considered that such a fate would befall you. the reality of it crashed down on you, a wave of dread that left you trembling. but there was no escape, no way to refuse. you were trapped, a pawn in the king’s game, and the realization of it was more terrifying than anything you had ever faced before.

✧.*

a/n: this will take a while since this is based on scarlet heart and ts has like 20 episodes

sobbing because i'll be 26 when seventeen's ot13 comeback comes out

horror shorts (공포 단편)

bangtan sonyeondan (방탄소년단)

✧.* 16+

KIM NAMJOON (김남준)

it took him a week to find where you keep your wifi password. he was worried you’d thrown it away, but there it was in the cutlery drawer of all places. everything about the way you organized things confused him. maybe because you lived on your own, you just put things wherever and however. he knew there was someone else before, he heard you talking about him on the phone. jin? seokjin? anyway, he knew you said it was tough being alone. but you weren't alone, of course. you had him.

there was a crack in your roof where he could see down onto the street below. the roof was small, but he liked his places cramped. he even stuffed a few things up there to make it smaller (just bits and pieces from the recycling, he didn’t think you’d miss them). he could sit with his face against the wall and see down onto the street. that’s where he saw you meeting up with all those people wearing all black. it would've been weird anyway because you never meet anyone, but they were all rubbing your back and holding your hand. he was scared you were going to bring them in but you just went off together.

it really explained a lot that there was someone else before him. like the fact you had two sets of drawers in your bedroom, or how you lived in such a big house all by yourself, and did weird things like leave the password in the cutlery drawer or watch the same show all day on a weekend.

he wasn't one to talk, mind you. he was addicted to his toys. like the cigarette lighter that was fun to flick on and off, or the tube that had all the patterns in you could change. he could look down that thing for hours. he often has. that was what he normally did when you were home. or he just sat back and listened to you do the washing or run a shower or something like that. he crawlled up the walls and hung there with his ear to the pipes, listening to the water rushing by. that kind of thing made him happy. plus you never had anyone around so once he got your schedule memorized, he could move around as much as he needed.

he knew what you had. it was a symbiotic relationship. that meant you helped him by giving me a place to sleep and wifi, and he helped you by eating all the spiders. of course, there was no need to thank him. he fell asleep under the towels in your airing cupboard once (before he found the roof) and he saw you trying to get rid of one that was living under your sink with a broom. he had never seen so much fuss in his entire life. but it made no difference to him how many legs something has, so he just ate them up whenever he found one, and any other thing that made its way into the house without permission.

he tried not take too much food either. he found he could usually survive off the things you left out, or throw away. like the banana skins you tended to throw out. he never needed too much food to get by. he really, really liked butter though. not to eat so much as just to play with. you once left a block out by the window in the sun and it went all melty while you were at work, so he started playing with it. once he’d stuck his finger in once it was hard to stop. he had it looking like a puddle by the end. but then, he realized it was six and you’d be home soon, so he had to press it back into a rectangle as best he could. but then, he heard you opening the door. boy was he startled. he went into the cupboard under the stairs (the one you never went in as it was full of men’s shoes and coats) and he watched you come in through the doorway. but then came the weird part: you didn’t even notice the butter. all you did was make a cup of tea and then give up halfway through and start crying. then you ordered a chinese and barely ate any before throwing it away. that was what he meant about your weird habits.

you cooked dinner the other evening. he noticed because you played music, which you never did, and you made something with took almost an hour and a half with about a thousand ingredients. he crept down to the top of the staircase and he could see you bouncing around doing moves with the spoon. it was so funny, he had to cover his mouth to keep from laughing. then he saw something that had him scared. you’d laid two places at the table.

he thought there was someone else in the house and climbed all the way up to the ceiling thinking they’d see him. as he was hanging there, he saw you serving two plates and he couldn’t move for the panic. another person. he just knew he wouldn’t like them as much as you. that they'd ruin everything and make him go all crazy like he used to be. he didn't know what to do. he was ready to hurt them.

then you sat down. you lit the candle on the table and started eating by yourself. nobody else showed up, and after you were done you took the other food and threw it away. even though he was relieved, he felt kind of bad that the other person never showed up. you didn’t seem sad, though. it was like you’d expected it to just be you. after you went to bed, he went through the bin and ate some of the food you threw away. it was delicious.

he knew something was wrong the next day because you didn’t leave for work, and then you ran a bath in the middle of the afternoon. after you’d been in there for ages and ages, he started to get this horrible bad feeling. he crawled down to the landing. the bathroom door was open a crack, so he peeked through. he saw your hand. it was hanging, not in a natural way, and there was this long red line going down it and then he realized.

he ran back upstairs. he was a coward. he hid under his pile of stuff and started to cry. he thought about running away. he thought about the color a pink bathmat went when it was covered in blood. he thought about how much he wanted to be somewhere else. but most of all, he thought about you, and how little sense you make. he was sorry he had lit your roof on fire.

it was the only way he could think to get people to come. it actually worked better than expected. he ran down to the cupboard under the stairs and curled up with his hands over his head until he heard them kick the door down and carry you out. there was a lot of confusion and bad language, but they found you and he heard one say you were still breathing.

so, his favorite place in the whole world was gone now. most of his things as well, though he did think to grab the pattern tube. the rest was just a big black wig on top of your house. but he wasn't scared. you’d get better, and when you came back, he’d still be here. he didn't think it was nice to be alone.

© r/NoSleep

KIM SEOKJIN (김석진)

“hey,” the masculine voice called out.

you told yourself you were just imagining it.

“hey sweetheart,” the masculine voice repeated.

you drew youe knees up to your chest and ducked your head under the blanket, trying to shut out the voice and the cold wind that drifted in through the window, ruffling the curtains. it was as if you were a little girl again, but you weren't. “who are you?” you asked.

“the monster underneath your bed,” the voice replied.

“you’re real?” you asked.

“what do you mean?” he said. “of course i’m real.”

“do you have a name?” you asked.

“of course i have a name, kim seokjin.”

“kim seokjin?”

“yeah,” he said. “something wrong with that?”

“no,” you said. “it’s just not very monster-like.”

“well, my parents didn’t want me to be a monster.”

“really? what did they want you to be?”

“a lawyer.”

“that’s funny,” you said. in fact, you could feel yourself beginning to smile.

“what do your parents want you to be?” he asked.

“dunno, hey jin?”

“yeah?”

“aren’t you gonna scare me or something?”

“why would i do that?”

“you’re a monster, aren’t you?”

“of course, but that doesn’t mean that i scare girls.”

“i thought that was your job.”

“it is my job to scare people,” he responded. “bad people.”

“am i a bad person?” you asked.

“no,” he said, “but you’re not the one i’m here to scare.”

“who are you here to scare?” you asked.

“the man in your closet.”

the skin on your arms went numb. you wanted to ask him what he meant, but you fell silent as you heard a rustling come from the closet. the closet door creaked open, and you could hear footsteps coming towards you across the bedroom floor. you didn’t dare peek out of the blanket. the footsteps stopped, and you could hear heavy breathing next to your head, so you squeezed your eyes tight. the warm sanctuary of the blanket disappeared as it was yanked off you.

you hugged your arms around your knees and prepared for the worst. a scream shattered the night air, followed by the sound of breaking glass. you opened your eyes to take a peek, only to see a knife lying on the carpet next to your bed, blade glinting in the moonlight. your parents rushed into the room and asked you what had happened, but you didn’t know what to say, only that someone had been hiding in your closet and they’d jumped out the window.

your parents called the police and they came right away. they picked up a man called jackson wang sprinting through the streets a couple blocks away. he was covered in blood and broken glass. they found jackson’s car abandoned on your property, and inside they found duct tape, knives, gloves and a video camera.

from what you heard, jackson’s lawyer employed an insanity defense, and he was currently incarcerated in a state mental facility for the criminally insane. you never heard from seokjin again, but the officer who arrested jackson told you that he slept on the floor of the facility.

he told the doctors that he was terrified of seokjin, the monster under his bed.

MIN YOONGI (민윤기)

do not speak of this sheet to any passenger. you are the only human on this flight. 

check the time on your phone after reading this sheet. all rules will apply based on the time of your phone. 

during the first hour of the flight, do not talk to anyone. people may try to talk to you, but ignore them completely.

during the second hour of the flight, you may start talking again, but if anyone mentions the window, do not look outside the window under any circumstances.

if you hear a child crying in the cabin, immediately run to the bathroom.

during the third hour of the flight, the captain will make an announcement. follow the instructions.

during the fourth hour of the flight, do not sit in your seat.

if you make it past the fourth hour, you will need to spend the rest of the flight evading the chaser. you will know who the chaser is when you see them.

he re-read the rules again while chuckling. did they give one of those to every passenger, or was he somehow randomly chosen for this prank? he checked the time on my phone just to humour the list. 7:13am.

that would be the first hour of the flight. suddenly, a young man walked over to his seat and sat right beside him. he gave him a casual side glance and saw that he was carrying what looked to be a laptop bag. “great,” yoongi thought, “he’ll work on whatever he’s doing and leave me alone for the flight”

the man didn’t even bother to exchange a single word with him as he settled down in his seat and put on his seatbelt. he stared straight ahead and completely avoided him. yoongi let him be and started to fiddle with his flight console. some people just liked to be left alone. 

soon enough, the captain made an announcement of the plane starting and the steady hum of the plane engines started to vibrate the entire cabin. the plane started to accelerate until the g-force pushed him into his seat. moments later, he felt the plane rising into the air. he wasn't typically scared of flights, but getting on a flight always made him a bit queasy. this time though, his stomach was in knots, and beads of sweat were running down his forehead. his instincts told him he was stepping into grave danger, but he dismissed his thoughts.

the young man on his left suddenly tapped on his shoulder. he jolted up like he’d just been electrocuted. even through his jacket, the man's hand felt cold. cold and heavy, like a dead person’s hand. 

he turned around and faced the young man. his face seemed, wrong. you know how those realistic human robots could creep people out because of how close to human they were, yet subconsciously we could tell that they weren’t human? that man was giving him that same unsettling feeling and his facial features were just artificial in a way he couldn’t place. maybe it was his eyes. a little too big, the pupils abnormally dilated. or maybe it was his nose, not exactly in the center of his face. or perhaps it was his mouth, lips way too thin and long. he didn’t look obnoxiously fake. in fact, it was those very subtle blemishes in his facial features that made him look like something trying to look like a human. and then he spoke.

his voice was normal. upon hearing his voice, the man seemed to look normal too and yoongi thought he was just freaking out for no reason. “do you wear headphones?” he asked

that was a weird question to ask. sid he want headphones? yoongi was about to open my mouth to speak when he spoke again. 

“how would you feel if i cut your hand off right now?”

what was disturbing wasn’t the nature of the question itself, but the fact that he spoke in such a calm manner. it was as if he was asking him how his day was. suddenly, his mind went to the list of rules that he had subconsciously been squeezing in his hand. the first rule said to not talk to anyone on the flight no matter how much they tried to talk to you. he decided to ignore the man.

he stopped pestering yoongi and returned to work on his laptop. when he looked over at his laptop, he gasped at what he saw on his screen. 

he had a photo of yoongi on his screen. that’s it. nothing else, just a full screen photo of him. before he could process that properly, he looked over at his keyboard and noticed that it wasn’t a standard keyboard. in fact, it really wouldn’t even count as a keyboard. it was made up of oddly shaped keys, all marked with strange letters that he doubt existed. the man continued to stare intently at the photo of me on his screen. it was then that yoongi realized that the list of rules wasn't a joke. suddenly, a flight attendant popped out of nowhere. 

“sir, is this man bothering you?”

“yes he is,” he replied before his voice caught up in his throat. 

in under a second, everyone in the cabin snapped their heads around until they were staring directly at him. their faces, they all looked wrong. inhumane. slowly, their long thin lips curled into wide smiles, and red tears started to roll down their faces. 

JUNG HOSEOK (정호석)

looks like you’re using a new device. please verify your identity with the following security questions.

he hated answering those questions. he resentfully clicked, “ok.”

what was the name of your childhood best friend?

hoseok's hands hovered over the keyboard. two people came to mind—kim namjoon and min yoongi. he hadn’t talked to them in years, but considered them best friends back then. he couldn’t remember which he’d entered when he made the account, so he started with namjoon.

incorrect answer.

this was precisely why he hated these questions. he tried yoongi.

incorrect answer.

he tried first and last names. nicknames. surnames only. each time, the same message popped up: incorrect answer. he sat there, confused, staring at the screen. skip this question, he clicked, finally. but the next question had him even more confused.

what was the name of your high school?

“hanyang cyber university,” he entered.

incorrect answer.

how? frowning, he entered “hanyang cyber university,” “cyber university of hanyang.” every permutation of “hanyang” and “university” he could think of. anything that it could possibly be. but each time, those two words popped up, burning into his brain. incorrect answer.

skip this question, he clicked, and the next question popped up.

do you remember now, hoseok?

he jolted back from the screen. what the hell? his heart pounded and he suddenly felt dizzy. faint. he wiped at his face, feeling the walls closing in. then, he blinked. no. that’s not what it said. he misread it. he reread the sentence:

did you receive a text just now, hoseok?

we’re going to try to verify your account a different way. enter the verification code we sent to (XXX)-XXX-1539...

everything was fine. he picked up his phone and began tapping at the screen—then, jerked his fingers back. what was that? something wet and dark coated the glass, sticking to his fingertips. he wiped the phone off against his shirt, grimacing, and opened the text. fingers shaking, he slowly entered the code into the site.

thank you, hoseok. you’re all set!

he stood up, stretched, and walked towards the kitchen. he needed a drink after all this. after rummaging in the pantry for a few minutes, he pulled out a bottle of soju and poured himself a shot.

as he tipped his head back to down it, he saw the blood.

so much blood, pooling out from something unseen in the family room. his heart beat painfully in my chest as he crept forward. a body. face down. his jean pocket was turned inside-out, and strewn across the carpet were his wallet, his keys. no phone. trembling, he reached for the wallet and pulled out a driver’s license. the first name jumped out at him.

HOSEOK

he reached into his own pocket and pulled out his wallet. but he already knew the truth, now. he wasn’t hoseok. he never was.

he glanced over at his laptop, and the phone, sitting next to it. the bank’s account homepage, filling the screen, showing thousands of dollars ready to be transferred.

he’d done this.

he remembered, now.

PARK JIMIN (박지민)

every night on his walk home from work, jimin listened to true crime podcasts. even though his favorite podcast already released their episode for this week, the app said there was a new one. excited, he let it play.

“it was a nice city—the kind that has mom and pop shops lining the street, the kind where everyone knew your name. but little did the residents know that they would soon be rocked by a horrible crime.”

he stopped at a traffic light. the red glowed in the darkness, glinting off the wet street. a black suv sloshed by. across from him, eerie blue refrigerator lights glowed from inside a corner deli. the chairs all up on their tables, feet in the air. the signal turned to WALK.

“that chilly september evening was no different for the young student. he'd left his shift at the local store and walked back home, except he never made it home.”

young student. local store. damn, this was hitting close to home. he was a part-time student at seoul community college, and worked at the local convenience store. and, of course, he was walking home. he glanced behind him—looking at the alleyway behind the barbeque place, which was dark except for the neon light spilling from the sign.

“his girlfriend reported him missing the next day. the town conducted a volunteer-led search, and after two days, they found something.” dread formed in hiw stomach, anticipating “a body,” but what he heard next was so, so much worse.

“washed up on the shore of seokchon lake, they found a pair of size 9 red converse sneakers.”

he stopped. and looked down at my red converse sneakers, damp from the rain. what the hell? his heart began to pound.

“the shoes were sent to a forensic analyst, who would compare its wear pattern to another pair of his shoes to try and determine if they belonged to the victim.”

a rumbling sound made him jump. he turned, to see a dark suv turning left at the intersection. didn't he see that car a few minutes ago? maybe it was following him, and—

the car passed him and disappeared into the darkness.

come on, jimin. get a grip. converse were popular sneakers. a little out of fashion, but still. 9 was a common men's shoe size. and what college student didn't have some sort of a job? come on.

“after a few weeks, the results came back. the analyst was certain: the shoes belonged to none other than park jimin.”

the blood drained from his face.

park jimin.

his name.

he didn't have time to think. he forced himself to move. he broke into a run. the small shops turned into a colorful blur.

“searching the lake came up empty. without a body, a crime is hard to solve. but police didn't give up. and finally, a witness came forward: someone had seen a car parked at the lake that night, around 2 am. a black suv with tinted windows.”

he whipped around. the street was empty. no people, no cars. no witnesses, said the little voice in the back of his mind, the one that’s watched way too many true crime shows. his eyes scanned the shops. all closed.

“there were six black suv's matching the witness’s description in the area. but one of them, in particular, caught detective lee’s eye. it belonged to jo heemin, a registered sex offender.”

the sound was so soft he almost didn’t hear it over the voice of the podcast. he whipped around—and there it was. two blaring-white headlights behind him. coming from a black suv.

he forced his legs to pump faster. the car didn't speed up; it crawled along, slowly, taking its time. like the driver knew he could catch him, no matter what. he glanced back, trying to make him out behind the darkened windshield—but the headlights were too bright to see anything.

“he wasn’t just a registered sex offender. he’d been convicted of assaulting a men he worked with, who were on the skinnier side and had short, light hair, just like jimin.”

the car crawled down the road. stalking him, like a lioness stalked her prey. he veered left, onto his dark residential street. just a few more steps.

headlights flashed across him, illuminating my running shadow on the pavement. he didn't look back. he just ran, as fast as he possibly could. the little brown house with the yellow shutters came into view. he sprinted across the grass, grabbing his keys from his pocket. click. he threw the door open, and slammed it shut behind him.

then, he turned the deadbolt, collapsed against the door, and began crying. he heard the rush of the car passing his house, continuing down the road. but he wasn't safe—you weren't home yet. he was alone, in a dark house, with someone driving down the street who knew exactly where he lived. still sobbing, he checked all the locks. then, he called you, who assured him you were five minutes away.

he made his way down the dark hallway and headed into the bathroom. then, he set his phone on the counter, grabbed a clump of tissues, and began to blow his nose. click.

he jumped. whipped around.

but it wasn't coming from outside the door. his phone's screen lit up, the podcast was still playing. he must have hit it when he put the phone down. it had skipped several minutes forward, according to the play indicator.

“what do you think happened to jimin?” the baritone voice asked. he reached for it, to turn it off.

“well, he'd told me he wanted to run away before.” he stopped dead.

it was your voice. clear as day, coming from the speakers.

“he did? why?” the voice asked.

“he wasn't happy with his grades, his job, his parents. he told me sometimes he'd dream of just moving to some random country and leaving it all behind.”

he froze, staring at the mirror. he never said that. never. you—were lying?

“i mean, that was hurtful to me as his girlfriend, you know? i thought we were gonna get married someday. but apparently he didn't feel the same way.”

his heart pounded in his ears.

“so you think he just skipped town, and is happily living his life out somewhere else? rather than being abducted or murdered?”

a pause.

“yes. that’s exactly what i think.”

KIM TAEHYUNG (김태형)

it was as you were sitting alone, again, at night that you realized you needed to change something. this wasn't a life you wanted: children. but you loved taehyung and you knew know somin was his world, so you tried to accept it. you tried. she was cautious though and, despite your best efforts, you never bonded as taehyung hoped you would.  

he popped his head out of somin's room after bedtime stories to tell you that she was feeling scared and he was going to stay with her until she fell asleep. you both knew he would fall asleep too, and you would eat dinner and go to bed alone again.

you decided to make a plan. and you knew it sounded awful, but you’d never agreed to living like this. 

he'd be devasted. he'd miss her. but one day, he'd get over it and then you could live out the rest of your lives together and unburdened. you could travel. taehyung wouldn't have to work so hard to pay for her inhalers. it was the only path forward you could see. you would become enough for him. 

you wouldn't kill her. you weren't a monster. all it would take was a phone call. you bought a burner phone and everything.

the following day, you added extra-strength cough syrup to somin's juice so she would sleep through any commotion. she said it tasted funny, but she was a good girl and drank it at your insistence.

when taehyung asked why she seemed off, you did my best to reassure him she was just tired. for a moment, you considered calling it off, but you could see the light at the end of the tunnel so clearly now.

after somin's bedtime, when taehyung left for a night shift, you arranged the drop at namsan park. at this hour, it should be empty.

you wrapped somin in her blanket and loaded her into the car. your mind kept replaying directions to namsan park, though you’d been there a hundred times.

you made it halfway down the farm’s driveway when a sound from the backseat made your stomach churn. in the rearview you saw somin, still asleep, but her breathing was labored. you forgot her inhaler.

the need wasn’t immediate but you couldn’t risk it. you left the car running and raced back inside. when you returned to the driver’s seat, the air felt different. an unease washed over you.   

“where do you think you're going?” taehyung's voice, a chilling mix of rage and betrayal, came from the backseat. you froze as a shiver ran up your spine. the wire felt cold against your neck for a split second before taehyung pulled it tight.

as you felt your life slipping away, your mind drifted to somin's parents. like the rest of the world, you'd seen them on the news a lot over the last several months. 

how long would they wait at namsan park?

they were so hopeful they'd see their little girl again.

JEON JUNGKOOK (전정국)

jungkook's wife went missing six months ago. you went out to work one day and never came home. it was a horrible shock to the whole neighbourhood, because things like that just didn't happen in your little slice of suburbia. the police launched an investigation, and the neighbourhood watch sent out search parties, but no one ever found any evidence to indicate what had happened to you. your families were devastated. recently, the missing posters have been taken down or papered over. the updates from the police became less frequent and dwindled away. jungkook accepted that, hard as it was to admit, you weren't coming back.

until you did.

a week ago, jungkook was in the back garden watering his petunias, when he heard the garden gate creak open. he jerked his head in that direction and, there you were. exactly the same as you were the day you disappeared. he was in shock. your families had mourned for you, and yet there you were, standing in your garden like you had just popped out for milk or something. when he asked where you had been, you said you didn't know. you couldn’t remember anything about the last six months.

all your family and friends are beside themselves with joy. they almost couldn't believe it. but that was the thing: he didn't believe it.

your families would never believe him, and he couldn’t go to the police unless he want to end up in a straightjacket. but he just knew that the woman sleeping next to him wasn't his wife. he didn't know what to do. he knew he should've been happy, but he wasn't. he was terrified. he didn’t know much about anything supernatural or paranormal, he didn't even like watching horror movies. but something about it all made his skin crawl.

the morning after you came home, he made you a cup of tea. when he handed it to him, you gave him the brightest smile. then, you took a sugar cube from the dish on the table and dropped it into the cup. your house was in chaos with your return, and jungkook was still in shock, so he didn't think much of it at the time, but it had been replaying in his mind ever since. he knew it didn't sound very significant, but you never put sugar in your tea.

then, it was the golf. a few days ago, when you was out visiting your mom, jungkook recorded a golf tournament that was showing. it was one of your favourite golfers that was competing, and you never missed it. once, you even skipped out on an anniversary dinner just to watch a championship. only, when you came home from your parents' and he told you what he'd done, you just seemed unbothered. you said thanks and everything, and then you asked if he wanted to get dinner. you didn't even watch it, and that was just out of character for you.

the final nail in the coffin, proverbially speaking, was jinyoung. just this morning, he came knocking on your door. his excuse was the tray of brownies he carried, but jungkook thought he just wanted to push his way into your morning so that he could see for herself what the situation was. after he left, jungkook called him a nosy busybody. you laughed, kissed his head, and agreed with him. that was when he knew for sure that it couldn't really be you. you always used to get mad whenever he insulted jinyoung, like he didn't have any right to hate him even though he'd been fucking his wife for years. but today there was none of that. he didn’t even try to defend her.

but you know why jungkook was dead certain that woman wasn't his wife? you didn't have a scar. if you were really her, you'd have a scar on the side of your forehead shaped like the golf club he hit you with. but there was nothing. not a mark. honestly, he was close to going out tonight and digging up his petunias, just to make sure you were still under there.

✧.*

crazy how even google knows