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 woke to the muffled sound of voices drifting up from the floor below. The low hum of conversation was interspersed with bursts of laughter, their easy amusement an unwelcome reminder of the night before. Groaning softly, I rubbed my face, the weight of sleep still clinging to me as I shuffled out of bed.
My feet hit the cold floor with a reluctant thud, and I reached for the robe draped over the chair. Slipping it on, I tied it loosely around my waist, the soft fabric a small comfort as I padded toward the door. The thought of coffee was the only thing keeping me moving as the voices grew louder, the distant clinking of glasses adding to the din.
As I stepped into the hallway, the sound of laughter became clearer, accompanied by a deep, familiar voice that sent a pang of irritation straight to my chest. My steps faltered for a moment, the memory of last night resurfacing unbidden.
Shaking my head, I pressed on, determined not to let it get to me. The scent of freshly brewed coffee greeted me as I descended the stairs, its warmth cutting through the lingering haze of sleep.
The living room came into view as I reached the bottom of the staircase, and I immediately noticed how much more crowded it was. Vampires lounged across the room, their elegant postures a stark contrast to the casual chaos of the gathering. Among them were wolves, their distinct presence marked by a kind of raw, grounded energy that felt out of place among the more refined vampires.
And then there was him.
The guy from last night—Aeron. He was sitting far too comfortably on the plush couch, a steaming cup of coffee in hand as he leaned toward San, speaking softly with a smile that was just a little too charming.
San, of course, looked as composed as ever, his golden eyes focused on Aeron as he listened with that maddeningly calm expression of his. It wasn't until Aeron leaned back with a laugh, his robe—my robe, probably—shifting slightly to reveal his collarbone, that my grogginess was replaced by a sharp jolt of irritation.
I swallowed the feeling, shoving it down as I adjusted my own robe and stepped further into the room. The sudden shift of attention was immediate. Dozens of crimson eyes flicked toward me, scanning me with a mix of curiosity and vague amusement.
I offered a curt nod toward the group, my focus barely lingering on anyone as I made a beeline for the kitchen. The quiet snickers and murmurs that followed in my wake only added to my growing irritation, but I ignored them, focusing instead on the promise of caffeine.
The kitchen was thankfully less crowded, its warm, familiar space a small refuge from the chaos outside. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet, filling it to the brim with the rich, dark coffee that seemed to be the one constant in this strange, unpredictable house.
