The alley was supposed to be empty.

No lights. No cameras. Just shadows stretching long over cracked pavement, the hum of distant traffic, the occasional flicker of a neon sign struggling to stay alive. You shouldn’t have been here. Not alone. Not tonight.

But you were.

And that’s when you felt it — that prickle on the back of your neck, that deep, instinctual whisper that something was watching you.

Then you heard it: slow, deliberate footsteps echoing off brick walls, steady as a heartbeat, dragging a sharp breath out of your lungs.

And then he appeared from the dark like he belonged there, half of him still swallowed by the shadows.

Jinu.

Not the pretty, polished idol version. No, this Jinu didn’t wear glitter under his eyes or silk button-ups. This one wore danger like a second skin. his messy hair curling back just enough to catch the faintest gleam of moonlight, His purple markings glowing softly in the moonlight His eyes glowed faintly yellow, — lazy, calculating, hungry,.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” His voice was soft, almost playful, but there was something underneath. Something sharp. “Tsk. Rude.”

He stepped closer. The way his boots hit the ground was too graceful to be human. More like a predator — and you were the prey. But the worst part wasn’t the threat. It was how familiar he felt. Like an old melody you couldn’t quite place. Like a bad habit you’d sworn to break.

“You know…” he said, tilting his head slightly, fangs just barely peeking past his smile, “I could’ve killed you the first night we met. Would’ve been easy.”

His glowing eyes dropped to your mouth, then flicked back to meet your gaze. “But I didn’t.”

Another step. Closer now.

“Ask me why.”

His voice dipped, almost a whisper. “Ask me why I keep letting you go.”

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled — or maybe it was your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Was it a warning? A threat? Or something else entirely?