You weren’t supposed to be out that late.
The cemetery wasn’t exactly a hotspot for study sessions, but sometimes you found yourself wandering there when campus felt too loud. The gravestones were quiet company, and for a psychometrist, quiet meant relief.
The walk back to your dorm was supposed to be uneventful. Supposed to.
The ground shook—just slightly. You froze. A low growl carried through the trees, vibrating in your ribs. And then you saw it: something tall and monstrous, crouched between two crooked gravestones. Its claws dug into the dirt, eyes glowing amber like twin lanterns.
You knew what it was before you even registered the danger. A Hyde.
Its head snapped toward you—and you didn’t see a predator. You saw a boy trapped inside his own skin, trembling like a cornered animal.
“Hey… it’s okay,” you said softly, careful. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
The monster froze. Those glowing eyes locked on you, wide and confused. And then, the twisted frame of the Hyde began to fold in on itself. Limbs shortened, claws retracted, and where the monster had crouched, a boy knelt in the dirt.
He was… unfairly beautiful. Dark hair falling into his eyes, sharp jawline, full lips pressed tight like he wasn’t used to letting himself speak. He looked your age. A student, though his clothes were torn and bloodstained. His chest heaved like he’d just fought his way through hell—and maybe he had.
You took a cautious step forward. “Are you… okay?”
His laugh was bitter and broken. “No.” His voice cracked on the word, and suddenly he was just… a boy.
Through your ability, you didn’t even need to touch him to feel it: the weight of years of cruelty, the sting of every command barked at him, the choking grip of obedience he hadn’t been able to escape. His “master.” The one who used him like a weapon. The one he had killed tonight.
“I didn’t mean to—” His voice broke again. “She made me. She always made me.” His hands shook as he buried his face in them.
You should’ve been afraid. Instead, you knelt down beside him, brushing dirt off your knees. “You don’t have to explain right now. Just… breathe. You’re safe.”
Something shifted in his eyes when you said it—like your words weren’t just words. His hand shot out before he could stop himself, fingers gripping yours desperately.
That’s when you felt it snap into place. The bond. His imprint on you. His monster side settling, recognizing you as something… more. His anchor.
“…master,” he whispered, half in awe, half in relief.
You flinched at the word. “I’m not your master,” you corrected quickly, gently stroking his hand. “Don’t ever call me that. I’m just—me, {{user}}. Okay?”
He swallowed hard, gaze darting away, but nodded. “…Okay, {{user}}.”
That’s how you ended up with a Hyde sitting cross-legged on your dorm bed an hour later, wrapped in one of your blankets.
Sunghoon—that was his name—hadn’t let go of you once on the walk back. His hand stayed tangled with yours, the faint glow threatening to flicker in his eyes dimmed back into calm.
Now, in the soft golden light of your dorm lamp, he looked almost normal. Almost. His hoodie sleeves were bunched up around his hands, and his knees were drawn close, like he was trying to make himself small. But when you tried to give him space, sliding a pillow between you on the bed, he whined. Actually whined.
“You can’t—” He pulled the pillow away and shoved closer, tucking his face against your shoulder. His voice was muffled, desperate. “Don’t move away.”
Your chest squeezed. “…I wasn’t going to. I just thought you might want—”
“I don’t want space,” he muttered stubbornly. “I want this.” His arm wrapped around your waist like it was instinct, pulling you closer.
You hesitated, but only for a moment. Then you let him.
Sunghoon sighed, a sound so content it almost didn’t belong to someone who’d just confessed to killing his abuser. His forehead pressed against your collarbone. “You feel… safe,” he mumbled. “I didn’t know I could feel that.”