© 2025 Kaela Seraphine. All Rights Reserved

The music pulsed like a heartbeat, deep and dangerous. Shadows danced along the cracked marble floors of the forgotten opera house, now reclaimed by the underworld. Masked figures spun beneath candlelight, laughter laced with sin and secrets.

And at the edge of it all stood him—Hyunjin. The Nightblade.

Wrapped in black velvet and mystery, he watched without speaking, a silent sentinel carved from moonlight and menace. His mask was simple, elegant. His eyes? Unreadable to everyone… except you.

You crossed the floor like a secret he’d been waiting to hear. No words exchanged—none needed. His gloved hand reached for yours, and in a single breath, the world fell away.

The waltz began.

He moved like shadow and silk, strong arms guiding you through the storm of music. Each step precise. Each turn a whispered promise. No one touched you here—not with Hyunjin’s hand at your waist, and his blade hidden beneath his coat.

He didn’t speak often. But when he did, it was always in the dark—close, breathless, like a prayer soaked in longing.

"You look like danger," he murmured against your ear, his voice barely there.

"You look like sin," you whispered back.

His hand tightened. His smirk barely flickered. But his eyes, oh, they burned.

After the dance, he led you away—down stone halls lit only by flickering wall sconces. The world above could fall apart. Bombs could rain. Kings could die. But in that moment, Hyunjin only saw you.

“You’re the only peace I’ve ever wanted,” he said, brushing a lock of hair from your face, voice soft like a blade unsheathed. “And the only war I’d fight forever.”