❝the demon's bet❞ - lee heeseung.

2

Your parents turn to you as you head down the stairs, noting the sullen expression written all over your face, deciding not to mention anything, allowing you to be. You were relieved for that, stepping out the front door.

Where were you going? To do something you never thought you'd be doing.

You checked yourself out in the mirror, a smirk spreading past the expanse of your lips, a hand ruffling through your newly styled hair. You appear satisfied with getting rid of the old, long dusky hair you had, instead opting for shoulder-length hair with freshly dyed ruby tips.

It complemented your raven wings though no one except you or your kind could identify it. You loved how it looked, promptly paying for the cut, stuffing your hands in the pockets of the navy blue hoodie you threw over yourself earlier.

A sigh left your lips as you rang the doorbell to your house's front door. You sucked in an amount of breath through your teeth, marveling how everyone would react to your hair. Especially your mother, you knew she adored your long silky hair, unable to envision her reaction to the short bob you decked with crimson flares.

The door opened, revealing the friend you walked out on previously, "where were you— your hair..." she drawled out, staring at you. You tried your best to act nonchalant as yoon stood there with her jaws wide open. You strode past her and inside the door. "i love your new haircut so much!" she exclaimed, following you inside.

"i was out acting on impulse, and I know it looks good," you express, trying hard to suppress the smile threatening to bloom on your lips at the favorable reaction.

Whipping yourself around, you watch your mother, with no particular expression painted on her face as she walks up to you. Her eyes saddened, though she considered her best to muster a smile, "it looks good," she forced out.

Your father partially denounces himself for informing you so late, observing the scene unfold. He puffs out a sough, continuing to ice your cake, giving it that finishing touch.

Hours after celebrating your birthday with your family and Yoon's family, the two being close since you both were in diapers. It struck 11 pm as you think back to today morning, ruffling the feathers on your wings, wondering how you even came into existence.

Mesmerized by your wings, you wondered if you had demon powers, subsequently extending your arm and aiming at the vase on your table, trying to activate your so-called power, laughing at yourself for attempting.

Your phone chimed, lighting up the screen. You picked it up to see it was a text from 'jaem<3,' you smiled at the contact name, clicking on the drop-down to reveal his message. It read, "meet me in 10?"

You pondered whether you should sneak out, texting him back with a "sure."

jaem<3
meet me in 10?

you
sure.

You threw on the hoodie he had left behind, hoping he would recognize it and possibly realize your feelings for him.

You quietly hopped out the window, climbing down the house, trying not to make noise to go undetected. Successfully doing so, landing to the ground, sprinting off to the accustomed place you'd meet up with him.

You took notice of all the grotesque creatures around you, some of them staring at you intently, watching the gooey and disgusting things eat on the dead remains. It must come with being half-demon, I guess.

Shrugging them off, hurrying off quickly, and were thankful when you spotted him and his friends.

Just great.

Internally groaning, knowing he was chaotic with his friends, the Dreamies, as they proclaimed themselves. Approaching them rather slowly, you wave at jaemin, who reciprocates your movements, his smile gradually dropping.

You greet the others before turning to the one who beckoned you here. You found the boy staring at your back intensely, his face contorting in horror, the others remaining deadly silent.

"you're a demon." jaemin voices out his thoughts, looking at you coldly. "what," you ask, confused, thinking humans couldn't see the wings?

He facepalms, "i can see your wings y/n, at least conceal them from other supernaturals," he expresses, distressed.

"but why can you see them-" you inquire, undoubtedly lost. Jaemin sighs in distaste, "i despise your kind. I'm an angel," he says, displaying his wings at the snap of his fingers, his white feathers contrasting your raven ones.

"how did you..." you ask, your doe eyes widening. The boy flings his head back in irritation, then craning it to the side, "you must be the infamous half-human, half-demon," he speaks with venom dripping off his tongue, no longer the sweet boy you used to know.

"welcome to the supernatural side of things, y/n," he declares, spreading his arms wide open to refer to the surroundings, his face lit in a grim smile, which soon contorted into nothing as he continued, "and goodbye."

He walked away with his pale wings following as he dispersed them in a second. Alongside his friend's whom you also supposed were angels, followed him. He then turned back, "oh right, happy birthday, I guess," he uttered with a sarcastic laugh leaving his mouth.

You watched as his figure slowly disappeared, tears pricking your glassy orbs, "what a bastard," you spoke bitterly, ripping the hoodie off of you, hurling it to the ground, the tears streaming down.

You dropped to your knees, sobbing to yourself sadly. What a way to end your birthday, seeing as the time ticked to 11:20 pm, wishing you had never snuck out, hoping you were never half-demon.

Was it an impractical idea? Probably, but you didn't give two shits about it. You needed a distraction, seizing the bottle by its neck, attaching it to your mouth, and downing the alcoholic liquid whole to the ultimate drop.

"cheers to me," you said to no one, your head drooping to the table where you positioned your sullen self. You were legal by this day, so you thought it would only be fitting to consume away what happened before, from today morning till now, hoping it was an eluded dream.

"happy birthday to me," you drank the remaining liquid, feeling the burn spread through your chest. It tasted bitter, but you enjoyed it, fancied the burn, comprehending why people would declare it a pleasantest distraction.

You dragged yourself off the chair, out of place, and stepped in the direction of your house in the harsh weather because you abandoned the hoodie as Na fucking Jaemin abandoned you for your difference. No, you weren't going to think of him, don't.

You smacked yourself for being scarcely reminded of him, right after he's the one that drove you to this condition, yet you dared to think of him?! Never again.