For over a thousand years, Minho has bound the souls of the wicked, feeding on their darkness to sustain his cursed immortality. But when he encounters Hyunjin-a university student with a soul that defies the usual pattern-everything he knows is thr...
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Hyunjin's POV:
"What are you?" I whispered, my voice barely audible as I pressed myself against the wall, my whole body trembling with a fear I had never known.
Minho didn't answer, his silence more unnerving than any response he could have given. He moved with a deliberate calm, his every step slow, measured, as if he had all the time in the world. I watched, frozen with a mixture of terror and confusion, unable to look away as he sat at the edge of my bed. His hand reached for me—slow, almost tender—and before I could react, his palm was resting over my heart.
This time, the touch wasn't forceful. It wasn't violent. It was gentle, like a caress, but the weight of it felt suffocating. His eyes darkened for a brief moment before the color began to shift again, turning that unnatural blue that seemed to pulse with something otherworldly.
My heart pounded beneath his hand, the rhythm erratic, like it was trying to break free from my chest. But I couldn't move. I couldn't even breathe properly—paralyzed by the force of his presence and the overwhelming dread that filled the space between us.
He parted his lips, as if to speak, but before any words could come out, something changed. His body went limp, collapsing forward without warning. His head fell heavily onto my thigh, and I gasped, the weight of him a sudden, shocking burden. The stillness that followed was deafening, the room suspended in a silence so thick I could barely think.
Tears streamed down my face, uncontrollable and relentless, as I stared down at Minho. What had he done to me? Who was he, really? And how could his eyes—those terrifying blue eyes—change like that? None of it made sense. Nothing about this situation was remotely normal, and now... now he was passed out on my lap, as if the very power he had wielded had drained him completely.
I reached for my phone, my hand trembling as I fumbled with it. My first instinct was to call the police, to call anyone who might be able to make sense of this nightmare. But just as I began to dial, the door to my room swung open with a loud creak, and Jisung rushed inside.
"Hyunjin, what the hell is going on?" he asked, his voice thick with confusion and fear. His eyes darted from me to Minho, and I could see the panic rising in him as he tried to process what he was seeing—Minho's still body draped across my lap, and the tears that refused to stop falling down my face.
"I don't know!" I sobbed, my voice shaking uncontrollably. "He just... he came in here, and his eyes... they turned blue, and then he just collapsed!" The words spilled out of me, frantic and disjointed, as if saying them would make the situation any less surreal.
Jisung moved quickly to my side, his hand reaching out to steady me, his touch grounding me in a way I desperately needed. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice calm but filled with an urgency I hadn't heard from him before. "Let's just figure this out. Don't freak out."
