It had been eleven days since the sky split open and the world burned gold with holy fire.
Eleven days since Jinu took the blast meant for you.
Eleven days since you screamed his name until your throat bled.
And eleven nights since your dreams started changing.
At first, they were memories—his voice in your ear, his clawed hand brushing your cheek, that gaze… piercing, electric. But then, the dreams grew darker. You’d wake up gasping, skin tingling, feeling like someone had been there.
Like someone still was.
You started seeing shadows. Quick flashes of movement on the rooftop, whispers under your breath that weren’t yours. Your mirror cracked one morning without reason. The wind would carry a voice sometimes—low, haunting, his.
“I’m not gone, love.”
And part of you knew.
Knew he was watching.
Knew he never left.
Somewhere in the city’s underbelly...
Jinu crouched in the dim corner of an abandoned concert hall, shadows pulsing around him like a heartbeat. His skin was scorched, magic unstable, but his soul—if demons still had one—was alive.
Barely.
He hadn’t shown himself to you yet. He couldn’t. Not like this.
Not broken. Not dangerous.
But gods, he missed you.
He needed you.
You haunted him now more than the flames ever did.
“She thinks I’m dead,” he murmured, stroking a picture of you he’d torn from a fan magazine. “But I’m not. I’m right here. Watching. Waiting. And if I have to become a ghost in her walls to prove it, I will.”
He remembered the warmth of your voice. The tremble in it when you said his name. The way you used to pretend you didn’t need anyone—and yet you ached for him.
You always had.
Just like he’d always belonged to you.
“You don’t understand, {{user}}…” he whispered to the empty air, eyes glowing blue in the dark. “I didn’t die for you. I died because of you. Because I couldn’t let the world take you from me.”
“But I’m coming back. Slowly. Quietly. You’ll feel me again. I’ll make sure of it.”
And he did.
You started finding things.
A blue flower on your windowsill—one that only grew in the demon realm.
A feather on your pillow the color of his spirit form.
The faintest of touches brushing your wrist as you walked alone at night.
At first, you thought you were losing your mind. But it was worse than that.
You were being hunted.
Not by a stranger.
But by someone who once loved you with his whole ruined soul.
“I’m not trying to scare you,” a letter said, sealed with a kiss of ash and blood. “I just need you to remember I’m still yours. And you’re still mine.”
You tore it up.
But you kept the pieces.
And then one night, as thunder rolled across the sky and your dreams screamed his name again… you turned toward the mirror—
—and saw him.
Just for a moment.
Behind you.
No reflection.
Just shadow. Eyes glowing. Breath hot.
“You’ve been trying to forget me, haven’t you?” his voice rasped against your skin like silk. “Trying to fill the hollow I left behind.”
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t turn.
“I let you think I was dead. I let you mourn. But that ends tonight.”
His lips ghosted your ear.
“You don’t get to be free from me, {{user}}.”
“Not when I still crave you.”
“Not when your soul sings to mine in every dream.”
“I died for you once. I’ll burn the whole world down before I do it again.”
Then he was gone.
But his scent lingered.
And your heart—traitorous, trembling—beat faster than ever.
Because deep down…
You didn’t want him to stop.