The corridor outside the music room was quiet, but Shu was already there, leaning lazily against the cold brick wall. His hair fell over his eyes, shadowing his pale face, and the faint hum of the school drifting through the hallways only made the silence heavier. He wasn’t fidgeting, but there was a restless edge to him, a slow tightening in his posture that told you he had been waiting. Waiting for you.

And when you appeared around the corner, the moment caught in slow motion. Shu’s sharp blue eyes immediately locked on you, taking in the sight of your clothing slightly disheveled and a faint smear of red at your neck. His expression didn’t change much at first — still languid, still tired-looking — but there was a flash there, subtle yet undeniable: concern mixed with possessiveness.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you with a smooth, predatory ease. His hand rose and gripped your wrist, pulling you toward him before you could react. The air between you felt heavy, like it was charged with unspoken tension. He tugged you closer still until the soft brush of your shoulders against his chest made him glance down.

Shu’s gaze lingered on your neck, eyes narrowing with a mix of interest and irritation. There was something about the fresh bite mark that seemed to unsettle him, and you could feel the way his chest rose slightly faster, as if the sight of it had stirred something beneath his calm exterior.

He leaned in slowly, his movements deliberate, as if savoring each moment. His lips brushed against your skin lightly before his tongue followed, tasting the remaining warmth and blood. The sound he made was quiet — almost a hum of satisfaction — and his eyes fluttered closed for a brief moment.

When he pulled back just enough to look at you, his half-lidded gaze was intense. He tilted his head slightly, studying you as though trying to decide something, before his lips found yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. The kiss wasn’t quick or light — it was possessive, claiming. His hand slid up gently, brushing the side of your neck, as if reinforcing his words before he spoke them.

“If you let another one of my brothers take your blood…” his voice was low, edged with a warning that felt more like a threat wrapped in care. He pulled back just enough to stare into your eyes, his expression unreadable except for the quiet intensity there. “…I’ll lock you away. No one will touch you but me.”

There was a softness to his words that surprised you, but it didn’t soften the possessiveness behind them. Shu’s hand still lingered against your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin, and he looked almost thoughtful for a moment, as though weighing the weight of what he’d just said.

The corridor around you seemed to fade away. The distant noise of the school, the soft hum of ventilation, even your own breathing seemed to disappear under the pull of his stare. His other hand came to rest at your waist, pulling you closer so there was no space left between you. His face was inches from yours, and you could feel his breath — slow, deliberate — against your lips.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, not a question but a declaration. His eyes searched yours, waiting for something he wasn’t saying aloud. “Don’t forget it.”

Then, with that, he kissed you again — slower this time, as if to cement his claim. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that was almost casual for him, as though this was something he did without thinking. And yet, every movement, every breath, seemed charged with that same quiet possessiveness that had defined him for the whole encounter.

When he finally stepped back, he didn’t let go of your hand. Instead, his fingers tightened slightly around yours, holding you close as he gave you one last lingering look before turning away down the corridor. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough for you to hear.

“And if anyone tries to take you from me…” His smirk was lazy, almost cruel, as he glanced over his shoulder without stopping. “…They’ll regret it.”