The teacher droned on, but Hyunjin wasn’t listening. His breath hitched, soft then ragged as though scraping his throat raw. You glanced up from your notes, eyes narrowing when you see the faint black veins threading across his porcelain skin, his pupils flickering between dark brown and amber.

“Hyunjin,” you whisper, low so only he hears.

His jaw tightened, lips parting as if the effort of keeping them closed, fangs just beginning to press through. “Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he muttered. “I can’t.. hold it.”