FALL IN LOVE WITH A MONSTERS [HEEJAKEHOON]

the mirror

Heeseung's pov:

Somewhere in the Dead of Night

The moon cast a pale glow over the empty park, its cold light barely reaching through the thick fog that curled around the benches and trees. A lone figure walked through the silence, his steps slow, deliberate.

Heeseung.

His usual sharp gaze was unfocused, his mind elsewhere. The hunger clawed at his insides, deeper than before. His veins burned, his body tense with an unbearable thirst.

With a quiet sigh, he dropped onto an old stone bench, exhaling as he rolled up his sleeve. His pale wrist gleamed under the moonlight. Without hesitation, he brought it to his lips.

Then-bite.

His fangs sank into his own flesh.

The sharp pain was brief, overshadowed by the thick, crimson liquid that welled up instantly. The scent of his own blood was intoxicating, rich with power, but he wasn't feeding. He wasn't trying to satisfy his thirst.

He let the blood drip, steady and controlled.

In front of him sat a mirror, cracked along the edges, resting against the stone ground as if it had been waiting for him. The surface was dull, lifeless-until the first drop of blood splashed onto the glass.

Drip.

The second drop followed.

Then the third.

And suddenly-

The mirror came alive.

Dark red veins spread across the surface, pulsing as if the glass itself had veins. The reflection twisted, shifting from Heeseung's face to something else-someone else.

A graveyard.

A lone tomb, hidden in the mist. The name carved into the stone was clear despite the aged cracks running through it:

PRINCE SOLON

Heeseung's red eyes flickered as he stared at the name, his grip tightening.

"...You again," he muttered under his breath.

The mirror's surface trembled as if responding to him. The vision wavered, the air around him growing heavier, colder. The scent of damp earth and ancient sorrow filled his nose.

Prince Solon.

A past that refused to stay buried. A grave that still bled with history.

Heeseung clenched his jaw. Why now? Why was the mirror showing him this again?

And more importantly-why was the hunger inside him growing stronger the longer he stared?.

Heeseung's fingers trembled as they hovered over the blood-streaked mirror, his reflection warped between the pulsing veins of red. The graveyard scene remained, the name Prince Solon carved into the stone like an open wound in time.

His chest ached. A slow, suffocating pain.

"...Why?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but it cracked under the weight of something deeper-something raw. His red eyes burned, not just from hunger, but from something far worse.

Something he never wanted to admit.

His fingers curled into a fist, his nails digging into his palm as his lips twisted into a bitter smile.

"You never loved me, did you?"

His breath hitched, and suddenly, the memories came rushing back-the way Solon used to smile, the way his voice carried warmth that Heeseung could never touch.