The night after the alley fight was colder than usual.
Ji-Ho sat on the edge of Seung-Woo's lavish leather couch, wrapped in a blanket that smelled faintly of sandalwood and something darker—something him. Across the room, Seung-Woo stood by the tall window, one hand in his pocket, the other loosely holding a crystal glass of blood-red wine.
He hadn't spoken in ten minutes.
Neither had Ji-Ho.
It wasn't tension that filled the silence—it was weight. The kind that comes after confessions.
Ji-Ho finally broke it.
"Did you mean it?"
Seung-Woo turned his head slightly. "Mean what?"
Ji-Ho looked down at his fingers. "What you said in the rain. That you… love me."
Seung-Woo set the glass down. Walked over. Knelt before Ji-Ho, resting his hands on Ji-Ho's knees. His crimson eyes searched Ji-Ho's dark ones.
"I've never said those words to anyone in the last hundred years," he said. "I don't throw them around for effect. I said them because they were true."
Ji-Ho swallowed, throat dry. "But why me?"
"You smell like spring," Seung-Woo whispered. "You smile like someone who's never known power but still chooses kindness. You're real. And when you accepted my drunken proposal that night, even if you forgot… I didn't."
Ji-Ho blushed. "I was so drunk…"
"I wasn't." Seung-Woo smiled softly. "I meant every word."
Ji-Ho met his gaze—and for the first time, didn't look away. "I don't know if I love you. Not yet. But I think about you. All the time. And when I see you bleed for me, kill for me, protect me... I feel something deep and terrifying and warm."
Seung-Woo's eyes glowed. He gently took Ji-Ho's hand.
"That's enough," he said. "For now."
Outside, thunder rumbled across the clouds.
Suddenly, a knock echoed through the penthouse.
Seung-Woo tensed. His smile vanished.
"That's not the front desk."
He rose swiftly, walking toward the door with unnatural grace. Ji-Ho followed but stayed back, watching cautiously.
The door opened—
—and in stepped a tall man with silver hair and icy blue eyes. He wore a dark coat lined with red silk and walked like a storm given human form.
"Elder Kim," Seung-Woo said, his voice cold.
"You've broken the code, Seung-Woo," Elder Kim replied smoothly. "Keeping a human this close. Bonding with him. Sharing blood."
Ji-Ho's heart stopped. Sharing blood?
"I haven't turned him," Seung-Woo said firmly. "I've protected him."
"That's worse," the elder hissed. "You've made him a weakness. The Council is displeased."
Ji-Ho stepped forward. "He saved my life. Multiple times. If that's breaking the law, then maybe your laws are broken."
Elder Kim's eyes snapped to Ji-Ho.
And he smiled. It was cruel.
"So bold. You remind me of someone... a long time ago. She was human, too. She died screaming."
Seung-Woo was suddenly in front of Ji-Ho, shielding him.
"Touch him," he warned, "and I'll burn your bones to ash."
Elder Kim laughed softly. "You think you're strong enough to defy us?"
"I don't think," Seung-Woo said. "I know."
There was silence. And then the elder's voice dropped.
"The Council gives you seven days. Renounce the human, erase his memory, and return to your station. Or we'll come for him. And you."
He turned and disappeared in a swirl of shadow.
Ji-Ho stood frozen. "He's serious."
"Yes," Seung-Woo said grimly. "They don't bluff."
Ji-Ho sat down slowly. "So… what do we do?"
Seung-Woo knelt again, cupping his face gently.
"We run."
Ji-Ho blinked. "What?"
"I have places they can't reach. Old sanctuaries. If you're willing… I'll take you there."
Ji-Ho hesitated. "You'd give up everything? Your company, your power, your home… for me?"
"I'd give up eternity," Seung-Woo said softly, "if it meant keeping you safe."
Ji-Ho's heart clenched. He didn't say anything.
But he reached forward.
And kissed Seung-Woo's cheek.
Not lips.
Not yet.
But close.
"I'll go," Ji-Ho whispered.
Outside, lightning lit up the sky—and the storm began to roar.
But inside, beneath all the fear and threat and blood and danger, a fragile love had just taken root.
And it would fight to survive.
To Be Continue...