⋆｡‧˚ʚ (demon AU) ɞ˚‧｡⋆

The hallway creaks as you step inside. Rain taps gently against the broken stained-glass above. The only light comes from a dying torch near the far archway, casting flickering shapes across the wall.

Jinu stands with his back to you — still in half-shadow, hands flexing at his sides. There's blood drying across his collarbone, his jaw clenched hard enough to crack bone.

He doesn't look at you.

“You followed me?”

The way he says it is flat. But there’s something in the way the torch flares behind him, how his shoulders rise — slow, deliberate. Something seething underneath.

You don’t answer. He already knows.

He turns.

His demon mark is still half-awake — pulsing dimly across his throat and ribs like ink with a heartbeat. His eyes are glowing in that low, otherworldly way that always tells you: this isn’t the version the public sees.

This is the version they’re afraid of.

But you’re not afraid.

He steps closer.

“Do you have any idea what it takes for me to stay calm around you?”

He says it softly. But there’s a sharp edge under every word.

Another step. The shadows stretch.

“You walk into a room like nothing touches you. Like you don’t know what you do to people. To me.”

Your back brushes stone. You didn’t even realize he’d cornered you.

He’s not touching you.

Not yet.

But the heat of him, the raw pressure of his aura — it crashes over you like thunder. Every breath tightens.

“I tried to ignore it. Pretend you were just... beautiful.” His voice lowers, rougher. “But it’s more than that. You pull at me.”

His hand lifts — hovering just near your jaw, not quite touching, but tracing the air where your skin hums.

“Even now. I’m... angry. I should be furious at you.” A bitter laugh curls at the edge of his mouth. “And instead, I’m thinking about how easy it would be to pull you closer. Just one second. Just one mistake.”

A beat.

He exhales slowly, lips near your ear.

“You want it too.”

The air holds still.

He leans in — not touching, but so close you can feel his breath ghost down your throat.

“Say the word,” he whispers, teeth just barely bared now, voice shaking with restraint, “and I’ll stop pretending I don’t want to ruin this silence between us.”