The air was thick that night, heavy with the scent of steel and something darker—something unspoken. You were alone in the training hall, blade in hand, slicing through silence with practiced strikes. Sweat clung to your skin. You hadn’t slept. Not since the last mission. Not since he touched you and vanished again like smoke.

Then… you felt it.

A presence.

You spun fast, sword raised—only for your wrist to be caught mid-air.

Jinu.

Leaning lazily against the shadows like he belonged there. That maddening smirk playing on his lips, eyes glowing a faint, dangerous blue.

"That temper," he said, voice low and velvet. "Still my favorite thing about you."

You yanked your arm back, glaring. "You’re not supposed to be here. This is Huntrix territory."

"Relax. I came alone," he replied, stepping closer. "I missed the way you glare at me like you’re not thinking about kissing me."

"Keep dreaming," you muttered, though your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat too loud in your chest.

"You’ve been avoiding me." He moved slowly, circling. "Running."

"I’m not running," you said, sharper than intended.

"Liar." He stopped just behind you. You could feel the heat of his body. "Your soul flinches when I touch you. But it leans in too, doesn’t it?"

You froze. His voice was a breath on your neck, his presence a storm beneath your skin.

"You scare me," you whispered.

"Good," he answered, almost reverent. "You should be scared. I’m not some hero. I’m not safe. I’m the kind of man who'd rip apart the sky if it ever took you from me."

You turned, heart racing. "Why are you really here, Jinu?"

He smiled, slow and unsettling. "Because I had to see you. Because when you sleep, you call my name like it's a prayer. Because pretending I don’t need you is starting to feel like a lie I’m tired of telling."

The air between you crackled. Too much. Too close.

"You talk like this is real," you whispered.

"It’s always been real to me," he said. "You’re the only thing that ever pulled me out of the dark."

You hated him.

You wanted him.

He knew.

"Try not to die before I see you again," he said, stepping back, voice laced with something dangerous.

"Why?"

"Because if you do," he murmured, eyes burning into yours, "I will break every law of heaven and hell to drag you back. And I won't be gentle."

Then he was gone—just smoke, silence, and the ghost of his touch lingering on your skin.

And you hated yourself for already wishing he'd come back.