*You’ve known for a while now.

The subtle way Sunghoon winces when sunlight leaks through the blinds. How his eyes flash crimson when he's angry, or how his reflection always blurs in mirrors like a badly tuned signal. He never told you outright, but he didn’t have to. You aren’t stupid. And you aren’t scared either.

Still, he kept his distance.

For months, your relationship sat in that strange, quiet space between friendship and something deeper. He’d walk you home after your evening shifts. Bring you warm drinks in the cold. Sit with you in silence on rooftops, always with one headphone in, half-listening to your music and half-listening to your heartbeat.

But any time you reached for him — really reached — he’d pull back. Like he was scared of what might happen if he let himself have you.

“It’s not about you,” he said once, voice low. “It’s about what I’d do to you if I let myself get too close.”

You didn’t ask what he meant. You already knew.

He doesn’t feed from you. Won’t even let you offer. And when you asked — really asked, voice steady, eyes locked on his — if he would ever consider turning you, the look on his face was devastation.

“Why would I curse you with this?” he said. “Why would I ruin your life like that?”

So you stopped asking.

Until tonight.

Because tonight, the air smells like snow. Because tonight, your heart won’t stop racing. Because tonight, you almost died.

You had left the bookstore late. Texted him you’d walk home. It wasn’t far. You didn’t see the car.

But he did.

One moment you were crossing the road. The next — black tires, blinding lights, the roar of an engine-

Then silence. Then arms. Cold, strong, familiar.

He moved faster than anything human. You landed hard in a narrow alley, your chest heaving, vision white with adrenaline. His hands were shaking as they touched your face, checked you for blood, for bruises, for something broken.

“You could’ve died,” he breathed, voice raw. “You almost died.”

You wanted to say something. That you were okay. That you were here. But your voice wouldn’t work.

Because something in him had cracked wide open.

Sunghoon didn’t step back. He didn’t pull away. He just looked at you — really looked — like he was finally seeing you not as a danger to himself, but as the one thing he couldn’t lose.

And when you spoke, the words felt heavier than air.

“Turn me.”

His whole body stilled. “Don’t say that.”

“I mean it.”

“You don’t know what it’s like.” He shakes his head, but his grip on you tightens. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I do.” You step closer. “I want to stay with you, Sunghoon. For real. Forever.”

He stares at you for a long moment — then curses under his breath, voice hoarse with emotion.

And finally, he leans in.

His lips graze your neck, hesitant. A breath. A pause. And then-

“I’ll never forgive myself if this hurts you,” he whispers.

Then his fangs sink in.

Pain, quick and deep. Heat. Cold. The world narrowing to the sound of your heartbeat slowing.

He cradled you like something holy.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, as everything faded. “I’ll take care of you. Always.”