Time: 11:27 PMLocation: Equinox's Private Studio, Seoul
The studio was quiet—too quiet. Candles flickered along the edges of the room, casting long, shifting shadows across the polished wooden floor. Yul sat cross-legged in the center, a notebook of half-finished lyrics open before him, but his eyes weren't on the pages.
A presence entered before he noticed. Calm, measured, yet heavy with a sense of authority. The figure Yul had once feared—someone from a past he had thought long buried—stood at the threshold.
"You've forgotten why you're here," the man's voice slithered through the room. "You've let sentiment cloud your purpose. You and your little… idol friends are distractions."
Yul's hand twitched. He wanted to resist, to push the man away, but the words dug into him, sinking into the doubts he didn't know he'd still carried. His golden eyes flickered, almost imperceptibly dimmed, the glow of his inner power wavering under the weight of old fear.
The man's eyes glinted. "You'll see. This isn't just music. It's control. Power. Empire. And you—you're going to wield it."
Yul swallowed hard. He believed the man. For a moment, the memories, the pain, the centuries of manipulation—they all pressed in. And then—soft footsteps.
Jiwon.
The door clicked open quietly, and Jiwon's silhouette filled the frame. Even in the dim candlelight, he radiated control—trained, precise, every movement deliberate. But there was something softer beneath it, something only Yul could feel.
"You shouldn't be here," Yul said, voice tight, but the tension broke slightly at the sight of him.
"I should," Jiwon said, stepping closer. His hand brushed against Yul's when he reached for the notebook. "Because you're letting him talk to you. You're letting him twist you."
Yul tried to look away, but the golden glow in his eyes betrayed him—his body tensed, a shiver running down his spine at the nearness.
Jiwon crouched slightly, close enough that his breath hit Yul's ear. "Listen to me. Forget him. Hear me, not his lies."
The words carried weight, power, and… warmth. Yul's chest rose and fell, uneven, caught between fear and something else entirely. Something Jiwon had never had to fight to make him feel before.
Their hands met fully this time, fingers interlocking almost instinctively. Yul's knees weakened. He let a quiet sound escape—half frustration, half relief—at being touched in a way that felt like safety after centuries of chaos.
Jiwon leaned closer, his lips hovering near Yul's ear, voice low and intimate. "I'm here. I won't let him control you. I'll keep you safe."
Yul closed his eyes, shivering. He wanted—no, needed—the reassurance. Slowly, their foreheads met, noses brushing. Their hands tightened. And then, in a whisper that made both of them hold their breath, Yul murmured:
"I don't want to be safe… I want you."
Jiwon's pulse quickened. He tilted his head, brushing lips softly across Yul's temple, lingering just enough to make a promise. "Then you'll have me."
Time slowed. The shadows of the studio seemed to bend around them, the candles flickering higher, casting their glow over the two of them. Jiwon pressed a hand to Yul's cheek, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. Yul leaned into it, lips parting slightly. Their closeness was electric, raw, and intimate—a quiet storm in the midst of chaos.
Jiwon whispered, barely audible, "I've been here all along. Watching. Waiting. Loving."
Yul's breath hitched. His fingers slid into Jiwon's hair, tugging gently. "I… I didn't think—"
"You didn't think I'd wait? I've always waited," Jiwon interrupted, voice husky. He pressed closer, lips brushing against Yul's. Not a full kiss yet, but teasing, urgent, filled with a promise of everything to come.
The manipulator's voice had faded. Outside, the city continued as normal. But inside the candlelit studio, the world had shrunk to two golden-eyed, desperate hearts—touching, leaning, feeling every moment like it was the first and last time.
Jiwon's hand slid down to Yul's shoulder, fingers brushing just enough to ignite sparks beneath the skin. Yul shivered, leaning fully into him. The air between them was thick with unspoken need, trust, and desire—their secret intimacy holding them steady against the chaos of manipulation and magic outside.
They pulled back slightly, foreheads still touching, breathing in tandem. Yul's voice was almost a whisper, trembling: "Promise me… you won't leave."
Jiwon smiled softly, brushing a thumb over Yul's lips. "Never. Not now, not ever."
And for the first time in centuries, Yul believed him.