You’d seen him from across the cafeteria, sitting alone, his head buried in a book with frayed pages. Song Mingi—awkward, endearingly clueless, a perfect target. Not the usual type you'd go after, but you were desperate. Weeks had passed since your last… meal, and you could feel the demon inside you growing hungrier, more impatient. If you didn’t find someone soon, it’d be your soul on the line.

With a practiced smile, you walked over and slid into the seat next to him. His eyes widened, a faint blush creeping up his neck. The way he looked at you—half-starstruck, half-terrified—was exactly what you needed. If only he knew he was about to become so much more than a crush.