The signing event was chaos—flashing cameras, a sea of screaming fans, neon posters with “Saja Boys” scrawled across them in glitter. Security tried to keep the line moving, but every fan leaned across the table for just a second longer, clutching albums, photo cards, and even plushies for the boys to sign.

You, a Huntrix member sworn to protect the Honmoon, shouldn’t have even been here. But Huntrix missions had strange overlaps, and sometimes guarding the human side of the barrier meant tracking demons hiding in plain sight. The Saja Boys were different though—they weren’t just demons. They were icons. They were worshipped like idols. And for one in particular—Baby—your heart had become your greatest weakness.

He spotted you the second you stepped into the signing hall. Teal hair shining under the stage lights, eyes bright like an ocean storm, purple patterns hidden beneath his sleeves—Baby froze mid-autograph when he saw you. For a fraction of a second, the goofy grin slipped, replaced with something softer. His deep voice cracked slightly when he said, “Next?”

The line pushed you forward until you were standing in front of him.

You slid the album across the table, trying to act like you hadn’t memorized every lyric, every smirk, every stupidly perfect laugh of his. Your hand brushed his as he picked up the pen. He jolted like he’d been shocked, quickly ducking his head so the crowd wouldn’t see the way his face flushed pink.

“You can’t just—show up here like this,” he muttered under his breath, voice low and velvety, meant for you alone. “Do you want me to have a heart attack?”

Your lips twitched, trying not to laugh. “You’re the one acting weird. It’s just a signing.”

“Yeah, right.” He signed his name with a flourish, but his hand was trembling. He risked a glance up, teal eyes locking onto yours with a fire that melted every ounce of your composure. “You know what you do to me. Every time you look at me like that, I swear my chest could just—” He pressed his palm briefly to his heart, shaking his head with a half-laugh. “Feels like it’s gonna explode.”

You swallowed hard. This was dangerous. Both of you knew it. Hunters and demons weren’t supposed to fall into stolen moments across barricades of screaming fans. But here you were, and it felt like the entire world had narrowed down to this table, this album, this boy who couldn’t stop grinning like he was seconds away from falling apart.

Baby leaned just slightly closer, enough that his deep voice rumbled through the air between you. “When I’m on stage, I can fake it. I can smile, I can joke, I can make everyone believe I’m untouchable. But when it’s you…” His eyes flicked down, shy for once, though the corners of his lips curled into that soft smile only you ever saw. “…you make me forget how to breathe. You’re the only one who could actually kill me without lifting a blade.”

The fan behind you coughed impatiently, and the line shuffled forward. Baby sighed, quickly scribbling one last thing on your album before sliding it back to you.

When you glanced down, your breath caught. Scrawled beneath his signature was a tiny note only you would recognize: “Meet me after. I need you.”

You looked back up at him, and his teasing smile had returned, masking every crack of his heart with the baby-faced charm the world adored. But you saw it—the truth behind his eyes.

And in that moment, you realized he wasn’t the only one on the verge of a heart attack.