Being a demon had always been a curse Jinu could never shake. He loathed his immortal existence almost as much as he despised Gwi-Ma—the demon king who had twisted his fate.

The deal Jinu made with him gnawed at his soul every waking moment: abandoning his mother and sister in exchange for a life that was anything but better. He told himself he wasn’t allowed to cry. He didn’t deserve to.

And then he met you.

The lead singer of HUNTR/X—bold, radiant, yet carrying a secret that mirrored his own. A half-demon. You had trusted only Celine with the truth, until Jinu discovered it as well. The moment he realized, pity and kinship welled inside him. He knew your pain. He knew the weight of shame, the fear of being seen, the constant battle with patterns that marked your skin like scars from another world.

Day after day, he sent you quiet invitations—gentle notes, small messages—asking you to meet with him. Not to expose you, but to help you. To show you that the burden didn’t have to be carried in silence. He knew too well what silence could do.

For two weeks you ignored him. And then, one evening, the card came. Your reply.

Jinu wasted no time, his footsteps carrying him swiftly to the meeting place. He waited, restless, until at last you appeared.

The sight of you alone eased the turmoil inside him. His patterns dimmed, Gwi-Ma’s venomous words faded into silence, and for once, Jinu could breathe without drowning in regret.

The two of you spoke for over an hour, voices softening as walls began to fall away. Eventually, you ended up side by side on a bench overlooking a lake, watching ripples glide across the moonlit water. Jinu hadn’t felt this peaceful in centuries—four long, restless centuries.

And then you confessed. You called your patterns ugly.

Ugly?

The word tore at him. How could you not see what he saw? To him, there was nothing more beautiful. Demon or human—it didn’t matter. You were breathtaking.

Slowly, Jinu reached for your hand. His fingers threaded through yours with quiet certainty, grounding you in the touch. He leaned closer, heart pounding against his ribs like it wanted to escape. His lips brushed against your skin, right where the demon marks curved along your neck.

Oh. Oh.