you’d always joked about sunghoon being a vampire. he was pale — like, “i-haven’t-seen-the-sun-since-the-ming-dynasty” pale. and his canine teeth? ridiculous. so sharp they could double as letter openers. every time he smiled, you’d point and gasp dramatically, “oh no, i’m dating dracula!” he’d just roll his eyes and call you dramatic.

but the signs were adding up. he never went out during the day unless he absolutely had to. he hated garlic. like, once you ordered garlic bread and he almost fled the room. and he was always so... cold. you were convinced his body temperature was hovering somewhere around “frozen chicken nugget.”

one night, you decided to push it further. you were lounging on the couch when you casually asked, “so… if you were a vampire, would you tell me?”

sunghoon didn’t even look up from his book. “no.”

you squinted. “why not?”

“because you’d be annoying about it.”

“rude.” you crossed your arms. “i wouldn’t be annoying. i’d be supportive! i’d help you find ethically-sourced blood and keep your vampire secret safe. i’d even stake people who threatened you—”

“you wouldn’t last two seconds with a stake.”

“excuse me?!”

but then it happened.

one minute, you were mock-pouting, and the next, sunghoon let out this unholy sneeze—loud enough to wake the neighbors—and in the process, his fangs fully extended. like, way longer than they should be. you froze, mouth open.

sunghoon froze, too. his eyes darted to yours, and he muttered, “oh… crap.”

you pointed. “I KNEW IT!”

“calm down—”

“YOU’RE A VAMPIRE!” you shrieked, leaping onto the coffee table.

“will you relax?” he groaned, rubbing his temples. “i’m not going to bite you or anything.”

“YOU’VE BEEN LYING TO ME!”

“no, i just… omitted the truth.”

you stared, betrayed. “does this mean you can turn into a bat?!”

“…yes,” he admitted reluctantly.

“OH MY GOD, DO IT!”

“no.”

“c’mon, just once!”

sunghoon gave you a flat look. “i’m not a circus act.”