#sejin.

Un momento.

Sejin wishes he could cover more with a hat. He feels so not cute right now with sweat sticking in his hair, on his skin, and although he knows that he’s meant to be working himself up with this training, he just can’t seem to reconcile himself to Dante seeing him this way. It’s only been two weeks since he became a vampire, and it’s been only about a week and a half since he started learning how to defend himself; the truth is, he’s far more interested in flirting with the hot instructor than he ever has been in actually fighting. That’s how he’s ended up like how he is now, on his ass and puffing up at him from the mat, his hand moving up to touch at his mouth. It’s almost too much, having to look at Dante with a flush like what he’s got in his face, but he doesn’t really have a choice either.

Curled up on Valentine’s bed, Sejin settles, knowing that the sun is slowly rising outside and that his sire should be back soon enough. There’s always a particularly comforting air about being in here, with or without Val --- he just feels like he fits, like he’s safe, and that’s not something he experiences very often. He has a lot to tell him, things to fill him in on that are rattling inside of his chest, begging to get out, and he feels like he’s going to explode with it the moment he allows any words to begin leaving his lips. Leaning back against the pillows, he sinks further down into the mattress, dark eyes settling on the door just as he hears someone enter.

A blanket of deep darkness covers the world, the stifling heat of the club still sticking to his skin even as he steps out into the night. Half of his face catches the pool of the streetlight, and Sejin raises his chin, letting the soft breeze stir through his hair. Eyes slip shut for a tick or two, just processing the evening for what it is, for the freedom that he still has left in the hours before dawn. He’s partway in the alley after emerging from a side door, and suddenly the scent of cigarette smoke twitches at his nose. He isn’t a smoker himself, but what bothers him is the face that he can’t smell it coming from any discernible direction. It’s just... there, suddenly. He’s been trying to get better at this sort of thing, his now heightened senses still an adjustment period he’s going through.

Still, it takes him a good while before he realizes that the scent is coming from above him, and he casts dark eyes upwards, catching the shadowed structure of a fire escape with the shape of somebody standing stop it. Only part of them is illuminated, and Sejin’s eyes immediately go to the cherry of their cigarette. He wonders if they’re lonely. He wonders if he’s projecting, a little bit.

Whether it’s happy coincidence or red strings of fate, they always seem to find each other again. Pieces fall into place for two kindred spirits to cross paths, just outside of the mansion and just shy of dawn breaking, and Sejin doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry when he sees him. The whole reason he’d come to New York was to find him, lost somewhere in the depths of the city, and now that his life has changed permanently, it only makes sense that he would get hit this hard with a wave of nostalgia. There’s a distinctive twinge in his chest, followed up close behind by a rush of adrenaline, and he stumbles forward to put his hand on Bell’s arm before he has time to disappear inside.

“Is this --- is this why you didn’t come home?”

The rooftop is magical. Sejin hadn’t realized how much he likes rooftop spaces until now, glowing with soft candles, all set up to be the perfect place to spend the night --- or to a the very least spend a few hours. His face reflects the softness of it all, a gentle, sprawling smile curving up the corners of his mouth that he isn’t eager to wear in most situations. With Dante, though, it seems that he’s smiling a lot more than he has in a long time, and while a big part of him is still feeling reserved about their entire situation (the ‘date’ situation, that is), another part wants to just enjoy every second of it without thought.