In the labyrinthine underbelly of Busan, a city where night never seems to end, reigns Choi San, a centuries-old vampire with control over the darker elements. His world is one of cold dominance and strict hierarchies-a place where humans are strict...
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𓊈𒆜 𝕵𝖚𝖓𝖌 𝖂𝖔𝖔𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖌 𒆜𓊉
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I stood near one of the grand ballroom's towering windows, nursing a glass of wine as I half-listened to Yeosang and Seonghwa's conversation. They were deep in discussion, their occasional bursts of laughter punctuating the gentle hum of the orchestra and the low murmur of mingling vampires. The rich scent of wine mixed with the faint fragrance of roses and the sharp tang of candle smoke, creating an atmosphere of overwhelming opulence.
I tried to focus on the beauty of the room—the glittering chandeliers that cast golden light across polished marble floors, the towering floral arrangements that added an air of delicacy to the otherwise imposing space. It was the kind of place you could lose yourself in, a perfect illusion of elegance and control.
But I wasn't focused on the room.
My gaze wandered, my mind distracted, and my attention eventually landed on him.
I didn't know his name, but he'd caught my eye earlier in the evening, and now, he was standing far too close to San. He was tall and lean, dressed in a deep navy suit that fit him a little too well, his sharp features softened by an easy smile.
But it wasn't his appearance that had me on edge—it was the way he stood. Angled toward San, his posture open and inviting, his hand occasionally brushing San's arm as he leaned in to speak. He was laughing too much, and every small touch felt deliberate, like a challenge.
San didn't seem bothered. In fact, he smiled back, the corners of his lips curving into that faint, knowing smirk that always sent a shiver down my spine. Then he laughed—a low, rich sound that I could pick out even above the noise of the crowd.
It was the kind of laugh that came easily to him but was rarely given freely. Hearing it now, directed at someone else, made something hot and sharp twist in my chest.
The guy laughed again, throwing his head back a little too dramatically, his hand brushing San's arm once more. It was subtle, but to me, it was like a neon sign screaming for attention.
I gripped my wineglass tighter, my knuckles whitening as I tried to suppress the wave of irritation that surged through me.
"Wooyoung?"
Seonghwa's calm voice cut through my thoughts, and I blinked, realizing I'd been staring. Both Seonghwa and Yeosang were watching me now—Seonghwa with mild curiosity, and Yeosang with a smirk that made it clear he'd noticed everything.
"What?" I asked, feigning nonchalance as I took another sip of wine.
"You're glaring at someone," Seonghwa pointed out, his voice carrying a note of amusement.
Yeosang, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned in slightly, his smirk widening. "Let me guess," he said smoothly. "The guy standing too close to San?"
