"you've  got  that  look  on  your  face,"  jinu  says,  frowning.  he  doesn't  know  what  it  entails,  exactly,  but  he  knows  that  romance  has  a  mission  and  will  stop  at  nothing  to  get  whatever  it  is.  jinu  shifts  his  weight  from  one  foot  to  the  other,  raising  a  hand  to  scratch  the  back  of  his  own  neck.  "what  crazy  plan  are  you  going  to  propose  to  me  this  time,  romance?"

" no need to sound so nervous. my goodness, you're like an open book, you know ? " and he was, in a way, easily read and easily manipulated ━━ not that he'd ever tried such a thing, well - far less than he had with others, at least. " why would you assume it's something crazy ? do you really think so little of me, jinu ? "

he doesn't bother answering. instead, il-seong merely moves to allow the other into his space. he moves further in, hand raising to wave the door closed before he continues over to take a seat in one of the chairs in the room. something so simple as human constructs was unheard of mostly down here but he enjoyed having a space to call his own that wasn't a barren wasteland.

and no sooner does the other move, romance steps into the space like he owns it, like he'd been here countless times and could navigate the other's home blindfolded. perhaps he had been here one too many times, perhaps that didn't matter at all. disappointingly, there's no space for him on the seat that the other not occupies, so it's with annoyance, if anything else, that he sits close by instead.

not what he wanted, but he supposes he'll live.

" my, you must not get visitors often. " that would explain such a question, not even an inkling of happiness at seeing him again. " am i not allowed to just stop by and say hello to my second favourite person ? " flattery, though he makes a mockery of it. for as favoured as il-seong was, he would never be romance's favourite for one simply reason.

romance's favourite was himself ━━ obviously.

" how sad. "

@hoshirae

' i said you deserve a reward, but not what that reward would be. '

sure, ravishing him was on the list of plans, but that didn't mean that he had any plans to do any extra work. the clothing could be torn, of course, but even he understood that clothes should be kept in one piece. he'd hate if his own were torn apart so he can only imagine that romance would feel the same.

lazily, he leans back, leaning onto his elbows as he drinks in every move of the other demon. he was quite okay with this show, enjoying ever moment of it. the light in the room is low, kept that way for when he turned in to rest or when he had moments such as these. he didn't need light to see what was happening and thought it took away from everything that happened if you could easily see what was happening. the experience should be about the sensations you feel rather than what you could see, after all.

taking orders was not something he often did. do not mistake this for relinquishing control, do not mistake it for anything other than what it was - a means to an end. if he wanted to be ravished, so to speak, then of course he might have to play by someone else's rules. not his favourite game, but the end result is always worth putting in the effort, especially with types like this. the one's that demanded the attention, the control, and had the strength to back themselves up.

the final button takes longer than the rest to come free, purposeful perhaps, in his intentions, but soon enough he's shrugging the shirt off his shoulders and letting it pool to the floor without so much as a second thought.

" it's not what i desire, it's what i deserve. there's a difference. " it does not take long for romance to rid himself of whatever clothing remained, letting that too pool at his feet before he steps closer - unashamed by his own body, in fact, he thrives, finds himself getting heated by the idea that he's on display in such a way.

" but, i can behave, so long as you can keep up. "

@hoshirae

' i... '

what even could she say ? that she was sorry ? because truthfully, she wasn't. she'd done what was needed even if it did make something happen to him that he clearly hated. what exactly had occurred was a mystery, of course, but did she really deserve to know all the intricacies ? probably not. curiosity was going to get the better of her though.

without thinking too much about it, she reaches out, grasping his arm and tugging him along behind her as she makes for a side street that was quiet and off the beaten path. once there, she blocks the exit and stares at him.

there's struggle initially, panic in eyes that had never once been fearful of anything, not that he could remember at least. he fights her every step of the way, inwardly cursing the fact that he was so disgustingly human now, that his strength wasn't enough to fight off that of a hunter.

oh ━━ how the mighty fall.

he feels like a cornered animal, eyes darting around to try and find a way of escape but to no avail. there was perhaps one means of escape if he could run fast enough, but he didn't doubt that zoey would be able to catch up with him in no time at all. so he does the next best thing, tries to remind himself of what he had once been, the fear that he had once invoked not just in zoey, but countless others.

he stands straight, tries to calm the rapid beating of his heart against his chest, lips curling into a smile ━━ like he had done so many times before. it's almost convincing, though there's something about it that seems off ━━ like the confidence of being infernal in nature had long since left him.

" if i was a threat, i would have killed you already, don't you think ? "

" did you miss me ? " rhetorical is the question that he poses, but there's something different about the way he speaks, like something wasn't quite right. he hasn't come here for a solution, for something as pathetically human as sympathy ━━ no. he'd come for a distraction.

" well ? are you just going to stand there, or are you going to let me in ? "

he wonders idly, if she's like this with everyone ━━ so easily kind, so effortlessly warm. does she realize that such a warmth was nothing more than a beacon for those like him ? she didn't strike him as the naive type, but he'd hardly consider himself surprised if she was. those of genuinely kind heart were so easy to pick apart ; so eager to walk right into the arms of danger ━━ whether they knew it or not.

he smiles to match her own ; fake, of course ━━ but what about him was truly genuine when it came to what he allowed the public to see ? " i did. what others do you have ? baby will eat just about anything but i have . . . more particular tastes. "

he notices the twitch ━━ of course he does, not a single thing could escape his scrutinizing gaze ; always picking, always commenting. the moment he had nothing to say would be the day gwi - ma's ever burning flame burned out.

a hand on his chest, mock offence taken to her quick wit. truly, he's wounded ━━ he may never recover ! " i'm only looking out for you, rumi. there's no need to be so rude ━━ it's an ugly look on you, you know ? "

❪ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ — ┊❛ ​🇾​​🇴​​🇴​​🇳​ ​🇲​​🇮​​🇳​-​🇯​​🇺​​🇳​ ❜ ❫ IN A WAY , he could understand what Romance meant. What's the point? It's like gnawing on a bone that'd long been discarded of marrow and meat ; it might feel like you're accomplishing something at first, but once the splintered bone gets stuck in gums, the regret settles in and remains, painful reminders of your stupidity -- they just remain there... At this point, they were stuck ; the hunters had won and Gwi-ma had been banished down below, taking with him the rest of the demons who weren't like them, though Min-jun still feels a gap in his own understanding of how they'd managed it.

      Jinu made his choice. He died for that choice. He'd killed them for that choice. It's that guilt that slices at the organ pumping blood, a phantom laceration but still one he could feel all the same. That moron had ruined their lives and, despite it all, there's this ache underneath the hatred that he can't pinpoint: care? missing what they had? compassion? it could be gas for all he knew...which is something he can't recall having either for so long...

      ...bodily functions so unfamiliar...

      Puffy was the skin around his eyes, blinking causing winces -- how often had he actually cried while a demon? Using one arm, he slid it underneath his nose, wiping away anything unsightly, sniffling back his mental anguish to keep some dignity present. It's finally enough to silence the tears. ❝ Sometimes I thought you had a stick so far up your rear, I could see it in your throat. ❞ A soft joke, though maybe he shouldn't have stated it, a wince forming afterward, fearing repercussions for something so snarky. ❝ -- but ... I dunno ... I must have liked you enough to not care...and I kept coming back... ❞ Even when he threw him down the stairs, even when he threatened to kill him, even when he could have killed him -- god, he wanted attention that badly, didn't he? No, he wanted him to stay -- wanted the Saja Boys to stay together so he wouldn't lose that one joy in his life. Was it really only because of that, though? If he'd stayed on his best behavior and just did as told, he would've managed it the same, but...

to reflect on one's actions wasn't the easiest thing to do in the world ━━ to admit that you had been at fault for so much pain, even harder. romance would not lie and say that he's had a change of heart, that becoming this disgusting mound of flesh made mortal had made him any better as a person ; being a demon, the freedom that came with it ━━ it was the most himself he'd ever felt in his entire life, and it had been taken from him, snatched from his grasp before he'd even had a chance to fight for it.

thoughts linger, even now, to act on urges that he'd never once second guessed as a demon. now human ━━ he would not delude himself with the narrative that he was a good person, from what he remembered, he never had been particularly good at all. a law abiding citizen perhaps, but it was only out of fear of what his village might have done to him if they'd found out what type of person lay just beneath the surface.

but perhaps what persisted of his humanity lay with the saja boys ━━ maybe that was why he'd stayed. a disgusting notion, but one that makes his heart ache all the same. connections, for him, were not easy to form - to keep - and yet, here he was.

despite everything.

" you might've been right. " there was a time where, if min-jun had said such a thing, he might've reacted differently. but for now the comment is met with a forced smile, but no malice, no retaliation. " i'm not sure why you would have liked me in any capacity. it's not like i was ever kind to you. " at min-jun's next words, he looks away - a frown on his face like he's trying to remember something. " i think . . . mm. you reminded me of someone, but i could never quite remember them. maybe it was that part of you that i liked so much. "

silence was not an uncomfortable thing to for him, quite happy to sit there without a word between them. this was perhaps the first real conversation in the entire time they'd known each other and it was exhausting. but min-jun, he thinks, has always had trouble keeping quiet ━━ and perhaps he's still trying to wrap his head around what happened to them, and without abby around, it would seem it fell on him of all people to answer the other's questions. " i can't speak for abby but i suppose, for me at least, i'd just . . . " voice trails off as the memories come flooding back to him, of the closest thing to friends that he'd ever had dying before him.

why had he stayed ?

" i suppose i thought i could . . . do something. but it all happened so quickly and . . . ah, well ━━ i think it's obvious that i didn't do anything. "

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ A poet, he says ... ❞

Infernal heat grips, tight 'round ; from thin digits, to occupied lips, affection bringing the softest of blue - fluster, into his cheeks. A poet, would lack the word, the appreciation, a poet, would be starstruck, struggling to even jot down stanzas, to formulate sonnets. He was a creature beyond it all. Where and how Romance came to be, remind still, an unspoken subject ; all Kalon had come to know, is the depths of Tartarus burned in his blood, and the subtle smell of soot and flame hung 'round his skin. Infernal, beautiful he.

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ You would have devoured me alive, if I were anything but this ... ❞

But was that, too, not a declaration if love ? To want so deeply, so vehemently, that you take in another, to make them part of you ? Preserve their bones, bask in their blood, keep them, close ? Was that, in and of itself, not the ultimate sign of devotion ? Tail lifts, from clear waters, draping 'round Romance in a loving, scaled coil as Kalon moves to kiss his forehead, smooth digits soothing over perfect skin. What was this, if not love ..?

Daily, if not hourly, minute by dreadful minute, does he ache. Ache, to sink teeth into flesh, ache, to crawl into demons' ribs and house in his heart, there, but it is all impulse that is controlled. Soft trill leaves the mer, a practical purr in his throat as ear - fins lower, an ultimate sign of comfort. To be free, at ease ... what an act of ultimate surrender.

" and you would have loved every second of it. " he muses, playful in the way that he speaks, adoring in the way that he admires such a beautiful flush of the cheeks with his hand brushing softly against skin. claws that ache to sink deep, even now. a desire for blood was not truly something that went away, nor was it something to shy away from ━━ but his desires now do not come from a place of destruction, to watch civilizations fall ━━ to watch humanity crumble, but of what he can only describe as . . .

hm. the word, on the tip of his tongue and yet still, he could not say it. as though speaking it, thinking it into existence might tarnish what they shared. such a thing was beyond his reach, this much was true ━━ but if he could, truly, feel something so pure, so heavenly - it would be for kalon, and kalon alone. " i still could if you'd like. i might even be inclined to extend the same offer to you. " blood, that had been shared between them ( on their first meeting no less ) but flesh . . . oh, his body burns with want at the mere thought of such a thing.

he would not kill, he would never want to kill kalon, his one ━━ his only ; but a taste wouldn't hurt, would it ? hand drops to tail, a quiet fascination as he feels scales beneath the pads of his fingers. such a strange creature, really ━━ romance had never met anyone like him, and he doubted he ever would again.

it was beautiful, it was the most at peace he'd ever felt as a kiss is pressed against his forehead ; eyes closing gently in content as the other's touch washes away all who had come before him. they complimented each other well, it was obvious ; and romance cherished the thought with his entire being. " never, have i been happier that yourself is all that you are. because that - you - are perfection made flesh. "

ㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTemptation, given FLESH - FORM !

Everything of him desired. Every kiss, every sigh, every little hitch of breath and exhale of laughter. A HUNGER, BEYOND THE PHYSICAL ; something Kalon, with confidence, can say he has yet to feel, in this life. For the appetite to be slicked, now, was not merely 'pon his tongue.

Hue, of truest blue, does not stain his skin for long ; eager tongue dragging upward to take in the flavor, the consistency. With baited breath, does he watch, fluster of pale blood settling in his cheeks. Digit is taken into heated maw with care, lest mer slice open the roof of Romances ' mouth ; far from a want. Blood, itself, is a clear delicacy. Something, ne'er before tasted, a delight to the senses. Were he younger, act of devouring alone may have aroused. But, his control was far more firm, now.

Laughter is soft, distance all but closed between them as arm, damp, come to rest at Romances' legs. A blood exchange, itself, was an intimate thing; something, to his own surprise, not given to another. Not prey, to persuade it, and not a former partner, to solidify a bond.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ You truly are enchanting ... ❞

Hand slowly withdraws from the others grip, joining its' twin along the demon's knee, tail so slightly raised from waters. There was no shame, no purpose in hiding, here. For all he was, did Kalon want to be seen, accepted, ADMIRED. Even now, as he reached for stray tresses of pink to tuck them back, he moved with the purpose of drawing in.

enchanting, he says.

many a names had he been called in the centuries that he'd lived. demon, defiled, unholy, monster ━━ but never once enchanting, not when his true nature had come to light. but this one, so enchanting in his own right, so wonderfully captivating in a manner that no one could ever hope to replicate, had called him just that. he had stared that of infernal make in the eye, had shared blood, words ━━ and still, enchanting was how romance was perceived.

perfection, he thinks. for no one had ever thought of him in such a way, for no one hadn't gotten the chance to do so. those, within close proximity, never lasted long ━━ but that of salt and sea, he could stay for as long as he pleased ; in romance's world, he would always have a place now. a pact, of sorts, binding them together for as long as they still breathed. " i couldn't possibly begin to compare to you. " he breathes, a quiet sort of joy that lingers just beneath the surface as the other shifts, a soft hum as tail comes into view.

" you truly are something else entirely, aren't you ? " he murmurs, hand twitching as he fights the urge to pull the other closer ━━ somehow. " beautiful. "

" being bound to you sounds like a dream, " gaze softens, and he cannot stop himself this time, shifting forward, wanting not even an inch of space between them both. " i am yours, and you are mine. "