Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Why do I love you?"

A whisper comes out from the beautiful man who lays with a monster.

The monster himself smiles, and traces the jaw of his husband. His husband has his face tucked into the crook of the monster's neck.

"Because I love you too."

*

Kim Seokjin is beautiful.

Kim Seokjin is beautiful, and everybody knows it. From his parents, the rulers of the country he lives in, to the very peasants who live in the alleyways.

Kim Seokjin is beautiful, but tired.

His siblings cannot compare to his delicate beauty, and they don't even think of the matter. They love their older brother, though perhaps with slight jealously. His parents love him, perhaps even reverently. His subjects obey him, perhaps as if he were a god.

So why is he tired?

Because he is beautiful.

His brothers are jealous, so they don't play with him anymore. His parents revere him for his beauty, not for his witty personality. They only care for what that pretty mouth says. His subjects think of him as someone who is kind, but very prideful, rude, and vain.

Kim Seokjin doesn't want to be beautiful anymore.

*

The pretty man who lays with a monster loves to cook. He cooks, and while he does so, he reads, from the extensive library he gained when he married his husband.

He loves his husband, he cannot deny it. His husband is intelligent, he loves to hear the pretty man speak pretty words from books of old.

He loves his monster.

But they love in the dark.

*

"Will I truly find love?" he asks the oracle, an old woman who is ancient, and whispers answers to humanity's desperate questions. She is old, and she knows everything.

The oracle raises her head, and locks her gaze with his own, her grey eyes startlingly clear.

Seokjin wanted to know. He wanted to know if he will have a future, someone who will cherish him for himself. He asked his parents, who after some convincing, had let him go.

His father though, had bargained with him, that when he came back, he would tell them the results. Seokjin had an inkling that his father had visited the oracle not too long ago for something similar to this.

"Will I find someone who will cherish me?" he finishes, and the oracle shifted in her chair. The old woman is silent, and Seokjin's heart sinks when the silence continues.

The only thing making a sound was the thunderous roar of his heart and the creaking of the wooden chair she was rocking in.

Seokjin finally realized he's not getting an answer, so he bows and says "thank you" for letting him waste her time. He bends down to grab his bag, and he turns around to walk out the door when—

"You will find love."

Seokjin freezes, and the foot that was taking a step falls flat. He whirls around, eyes blown wide with shock, but they were glimmering with hope. He takes a step forward, and his voice comes out quiet and hoarse when he asks, "What did you say?"

"You will find love," the oracle repeats, and Seokjin cannot help the complete and utter happiness that fills him up from the inside.

His lips curve into a joyous smile, and he again cannot help the laugh that escapes from his lips. He blinks rapidly as he feels tears pricking the corner of his eyes.

"You will find love in a hideous monster that the great gods even fear."

*

The pretty man stares blankly at the wall as his husband flies away in the distance.

His monster is gone.

*

Seokjin walks home, his whole body numb. He cannot feel his heart, which was pounding in happiness before. His heart now thumps in terror.

He numbly walk past the guards, past his brothers who pester him with questions about the oracle and into the chamber of his parents, who wait for him.

"Seokjin, dear," his mother starts, looking worried, "what did the oracle say?"

His father stands up, and sets his hands behind his back. He looks grim as he peers at his son.

"What was your question in the first place?" he asks, and Seokjin grimaces.

"It was to see if I could find love."

His parents are silent with surprise, though Seokjin notices that his father had an understanding look face his face.

His mother finally says, "But you can! We could arrange some engagement with one of the local princesses—"

"I want authentic love, Mother, not some fake love that derives from a princess who hasn't even met me before," Seokjin snaps, the stress of the whole day getting to him.

His mother jerks in surprise, not hearing such coarse words from her son before. His father levels him with a look, as if he were a child, and presses a hand on his wife's shoulder.

"Seokjin, let's not go ahead and be rude. Apologize to your mother later. And you know happiness and love can sprout from a marriage such as that. Any-who," he clears his throat and Seokjin stares at him. He had never seen his father this nervous before.

"What was the answer?" his father finishes, and his mother had shining anticipation on her face.

She brings out a silk handkerchief as if to cry on it, and Seokjin didn't want to mention that the silk can get ruined if any liquid drops on it.

"It said," Seokjin swallows, "that I would find love."

Immediately, his mother starts sobbing, with such words as, 'my baby boy is all grown up', and his father was smiling, but the smile was confused.

Suddenly, it clicked to Seokjin that his father must've known about his fate. He feels too empty to get angry.

"But it comes with a price," he says dully, and his mother stops crying, his father's smile slowly dims to a knowing look in his eye. "What price?" his mother urges, worry laced into her voice.

"That I would fall in love with a monster that even the gods fear."

*

"Brother!" Jimin, his youngest brother, yells.

His eyes are filled to the brim with tears as Yoongi, his other sibling, stands behind him, his face blank.

"What happened?" he asks, and Seokjin doesn't say anything.

He couldn't bear to get the words out of his lips himself, and besides, even if they were rude towards him because they were jealous, he didn't want them to be upset.

He walks past them.

A hand grabs his arm. He whirls around to find Yoongi staring at him calmly. His fingers dig into his skin as he mumbles quietly, "What happened, Jin?"

Seokjin rips his arm off and continues walking.

Jung Hoseok, a servant that works at the palace and is a favorite of Yoongi's, passed by him. He stopped when he realized Seokjin's face was twisted.

He reached out and tapped Seokjin on the shoulder with his silver plate.

Seokjin stops, and he is surprised when he realized it was Hoseok.

Hoseok gives a bright smile, and says, "Rough day, sir? I get those too. Can't help but mope when my sister steals my hairbrush, and Yoon- er, the Second Prince also get's those bad day's."

He grins, and Seokjin can't help but give a hesitant smile.

Hoseok pats him with his hand, and says, "Good talk, sir," and he leaves.

Seokjin stares after him in confusion, but he sighs and shakes his head. He enters his chambers, and grabs his travel bag he had earlier.

He opens his closet and picks the thickest clothing, and then grabs some books. He walks into the kitchen to grab some food, and stuffs it into his bag.

He meets his parents up at the entrance of the palace, where a servant helps him into the carriage. He crawls to the farthest seat away from his parents.

"Are you ready?" his fathers asks, and Seokjin almost snorts in disbelief.

"As you can ever be," he says instead, monotone. His mother nods, and sniffs as she dabs at her tears with the same silk handkerchief earlier. Seokjin cringes.

"Get it moving!" his father yells as he leans out the window.

He pounds the side of the carriage. The servant nods, and yells at the driver, who whips the horses. They whinny, and the carriage rumbles as it starts to move.

The carriage rumbles as it brings Seokjin to his death.

*

Seokjin stares at the gaping cavern which looms underneath him. Wind batters at his hair and clothes, and the red scarf Jimin had given him flew away.

His parents had told him that this was where he was going to meet his future husband.

The carriage took him to the tallest spiral and his father told him to sit there and wait, for his "monster of a husband" will be there.

What future husband? All he could see was darkness.

But, suddenly, the wind dies, and all could hear was silence. He could hear his breathing.

And right in front of him, a man materialized.

He was stretching out a hand, and was grinning a square-like smile. Seokjin screeched, and he scampered back, his arms flailing.

The man's smile quickly drops as he registers the pretty man's reaction and he sighs.

He lands on the edge of the spiral, and Seokjin could see that the lines of his body were blurry. He squints.

"...Are you my husband?" he asks hesitantly, and the man blinks a couple times, before throwing back his head and laughing.

"No, Kim Seokjin. I'm a deity; Kim Taehyung, god of the winds."

His voice is deep and smooth. He laughs again, and gives a bow. His earrings twinkle. "And I'm certainly not your husband."

Seokjin flushes with embarrassment.

"A deity? I thought—"

"You thought that deities like me don't exist, surely," Taehyung inputs, amused, and Seokjin nods.

Taehyung laughs for the third time and says, "Well, we exist, my prince."

Seokjin raises his eyebrows, and asks, "And what are you here for then, my lord?"

Taehyung grins, and stretches out his hand, like he was doing earlier. Seokjin eyes it, then grabs it. Taehyung tugs him forward, and Seokjin yells.

They're suddenly in the air, whizzing by clouds quickly. "I'm taking you to your husband!" Taehyung shouts, and Seokjin nods again.

He peers from Taehyung's arms and into the clouds, reaching out and touching them.

Cold water grazes his fingertips instead of white, fluffy material. He grins in satisfaction, knowing that reading that one book was good for him.

The clouds part, and Seokjin peers down a green, vast valley. His eyes widen as he surveys the rest of it.

There's a huge villa sitting straight in the middle of it, the exterior a pale vanilla. Off to the side, he could see a red barn, and some pens.

And the rest of the valley was acres and acres of land. Seokjin's jaw drops as they land before the house. Is this where he's going to live?

Taehyung nods, as if realizing Seokjin's unspoken question. "Yes," he says with a grin, "this is where you'll be living."

"....Is my husband that rich?" he asks weakly, and Taehyung smirks. He pats him on the shoulder. "Yep. Good luck, Kim Seokjin."

He vaults himself into the air, and hovers for a moment, waving goodbye. He then disappears into nothing. Seokjin sighs, staring at the place.

Where to start?

*

Seokjin slowly walks up the steps to the large wooden door. It was intricately designed, with many patterns and notches. Set in the middle of the door, a silver knocker.

Seokjin lets a shaky sigh, and reaches up to grab the knocker.

He lifts it once, and lets go, letting it drop and bang against the door. He cringes at the loud noise disrupting the peace.

"Hello, sir," an invisible voice says, and the door opens.

Seokjin jumps a bit in surprise, and walks in, peering around the door, trying to see if anybody was there.

Nobody was there.

He shivered and tried not to bolt.

"We're invisible, sir, so you won't be able to see us. But we're here to help with your belongings," the voice, suddenly next to his ear, says.

Seokjin jumps again, but raises his eyebrows in understanding. He grabs his bag and thrusts it into open air. The bag is taken from his hand, and Seokjin smiles.

"Rght this way," the voice says, suddenly across the room.

He could see his bag hovering. It was near a gigantic door, and he assumes it's where he gets to meet his husband.

He gives himself a little shake, and calls out, "Yes, alright."

He walks inside, and instead of seeing his husband, he sees a large bedroom. By the gods, was everything massive in this place?

He sits down on the bed. "Where is my husband?"

"Your husband will be here soon, sir," the voice replies, "perhaps I could get you some food."

Seokjin quirks his lips as by cue, his stomach rumbles. "Yes, thank you."

The door closes shut, suggesting that the servant left.

He sighs, and wrenches off his shoes, wiggling his sore toes. He unwraps his cravat and rips his coat off and falls on top of the bed, suddenly sleepy.

Darkness comes.

Chapter Text

"Sir? Sir? Sir!"

Seokjin woke up with a jolt, and he sat up, whipping his head around wildly.

And then, he stopped.

Standing right in front of him was a brown-haired, doe-eyed boy. He's held a platter of food, and he balanced Seokjin's bags on his shoulders.

Seokjin almost whistled. How strong is this boy?

The boy shoots him a relieved smile, and sets down the food and items near the bedside drawer.

"Thank the lords that you've awoken," the boy gasped, letting out a sigh. "I thought you were dead!"

Seokjin's eyebrows shot up. "Why, what happened?"

"Why, sir, you wouldn't stir, not a bit!" the boy exclaimed. "I just.. well, we... just thought we... killed you."

He smiled again, and white teeth gleamed. He bowed. "My name is Jeon Jungkook, sir, and I am to be your personal servant."

Seokjin blinked at the sudden mood change.

"What happened to the invisible ones?"

"Oh, they'll be here and there," he answered, and grabbed the lid off the plate of food. "I'm just here to tend to your personal needs."

"How long did I sleep?" Seokjin asked, glancing around the room. He still couldn't believe he was here— married, too! He arched his body a little, trying to peer through the curtains.

He frowned. It was already sunset.

Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows. "About an hour, maybe? We wanted to make the food especially good for our new master." He laughed sheepishly. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Seokjin replied, waving a hand. "Although—"

He cut himself short, and Jungkook wrapped a napkin around his master's throat. "Yes?"

"When will I see my husband?" he said. Jungkook took out a porcelain plate, and piled food on top of it. He placed the plate in Seokjin's lap, and gave him utensils.

"My lord will be here soon," Jungkook said, eyes glittering. "Do not worry."

...What the hell was with everybody being super vague?

"Your lord?" Seokjin asked, digging into the food.

Jungkook nodded, and he walked over to the closet, where many fine and beautiful clothes hung. He pointed at a blue, button up shirt. "As I said, my lord will be here soon, so I think this will fit you." He grabbed the shirt, and showed it off with a flourish.

Seokjin stared, spoon halfway to his mouth. He swallowed. Suddenly, he didn't feel hungry anymore. He put the spoon down, and pushed the plate away.

Jungkook drooped, and he tilted his head in concern. "Sir? What's wrong?" He laid the shirt on the bed, and sat down next to Seokjin, who seemed a little pale.

The prince shot him a reassuring smile. "N-no, it's nothing. I just don't have an appetite. I hope you understand."

The servant, in response, blinked and nodded with understanding. He stood up, cleaned up the dishes, and reminded Seokjin of the time. He left, and Seokjin laid back down on the bed.

In truth, it wasn't only the food that warded him off. It was the reminder of his husband, the monster he's married to.

Will be married to.

That monster is going to come to his bedroom soon, and Seokjin—

Seokjin is not ready.

Chapter Text

Seokjin had decided to lounge around and read for the rest of the day. He had nothing else to do, and his husband wouldn't be coming until later on.

Jungkook had often stuck his head in, asking with concern if he wanted anything, but Seokjin always refused him with a polite smile.

The sun set a while ago, so he decided to get ready for the night. He wanted to wear something extravagant, something soft and pleasurable to wear, and also easy on the eyes.

(You just want to impress him, a voice echoed, and Seokjin had thrown a silken slipper at the stain-glass mirror in a fit of anger. Jungkook had hurried into the room in a panic, but Seokjin kicked him out again.)

Seokjin shuffled to his wardrobe, where beautiful, fashionable clothing, clearly meant for nobility and upper classes, hung by silver hooks. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the clothes.

Back at the palace, they had similar stuff, but it didn't match up to this tier of expensiveness. His kingdom was a poor one, barely scraping by and landing a place in the registry. Luckily when his parents took over, they had made the kingdom flourish a little bit.

He grabbed a pale, linen, nightshirt and slid it on, and turned to his mirror.

He stared at his reflection. A handsome face stared back.

The very face that made him miserable— the very face that cursed him to this fate.

He remembered when he was younger, when he was eight, at least, his family had visited a neighboring kingdom (for negotiating purposes), and the king and queen there had two children— daughters, to be exact.

The queen had gloated over her older daughter, claiming that no one could rival her beauty.

Yoongi, who was six at the time, had jumped out from behind their father's pant leg and pushed Seokjin angrily to the front, as if he was challenging her, telling her to think again and look.

Seokjin's ears had turned red, and he was sputtering, but everyone stared at him in awe. Even the servants and locals mingling in the courtyard had stopped to watch this boy.

Finally, the queen with the beautiful daughters whispered, "He's a god."

A god.

That's all what he is to everyone.

He hates his face. This face had caused him to be worshipped by men and women who had no love for him— only a burning desire for his wonderfully sculpted, divintive face. In turn, he had turned lonely, craving to have human companionship.

Seokjin swallowed, pushing down the bile rising in his throat. He sighed, and closed the wardrobe. Better not to dwell on it.

He trudged over to the wick, and blew it out, letting the room be enveloped in darkness. He climbed into the bed, and pulled the covers over himself. Let dreams wash him away, let him be adrift on clouds. It might soothe my nerves.

Sleep took him away to visions of gods and goddesses, and a cursed man crying.

*

"Hello, Seokjin," a voice crooned.

Seokjin slowly peeled his eyes open. It was pitch black, but he could see the outline of someone hovering over him. His heart jumped to his throat, and thudded painfully.

"Are you..." he whispered, hands tightening on the bed sheets, "my husband?"

A chuckle. "Yes, my prince. I have finally come."

Seokjin leaned forward and put a hand to his skin, and to his surprise it was smooth. It wasn't scaly or rough, or serpent-like at all.

Arms wrapped around his waist, and pulled him forward, pressing him flush against his body. His body was radiating heat, and Seokjin's cheeks turned red. He laid a hand on his husband's arm, and underneath his fingers, he could feel his corded muscles.

His skin was soft, and his voice and manners were gentle. He didn't feel like a monster, a horrible creature to whom he had to share his fate with.

"Who are you?" he whispered, pressing his lips to his husband's collarbone. His grip tightened, and against the crown of Seokjin's head, he could feel his lips tug into a frown.

"This is the one question I can never answer, my sweetheart." A hand slid underneath Seokjin's chin, and tilted his head up. He gently pressed his lips against Seokjin's, and said softly, "If you ever love me at all, you would not need to know."

Not figuring out something, not questioning something, was not Seokjin's nature, but he couldn't resist this monster, this monster who held him so gently, who called him very sweet names. And so—

"Okay," he whispered, and hot hands slid up his shirt.

Chapter Text

His husband's visits continued night after night, with a toned body leaning over him, and passionate kisses being trailed up his throat.

Days passed.

Weeks passed.

Time wasn't a construct anymore.

Seokjin decided he loved his life here, with merry, lively servants jumping to his side with a wave of his hand, and a husband who laughed against his skin and told him beautiful, aged, flawed stories of immortals and human hubris.

Seokjin also found that he started to like cooking. He never ever cooked at the palace.

He mostly did this for his own benefit, because no matter how many servants there were, he always felt a stirring of guilt in his chest whenever Jungkook gave him a teasing grin, and bowed, clasping his hands together in acquiescence.

His husband visits him at night, is what Seokjin would find out.

He waits in the darkness of their bedroom, straining an ear to hear the groan of a door being pushed open, or the creak of the floorboards.

He waits for strong, muscled arms to wrap around him, and a kiss against the forehead.

He waits for his husband's deep voice, whispering to him throughout the night as his burning hands gripped his hips.

His husband is not a monster. His husband is patient, understanding, kind, intelligent.

Seokjin knows that his husband hates leaving him, he knows he loves to read. He knows that he loves to worship Seokjin, kissing him over and over again.

"...Sir?"

Jungkook stared at him, his eyebrows raised.

Seokjin gave him a slightly irked smile, and let the ladle drop into the pot of soup he was making.

For some reason, just the thought of soup made him want to spill his guts out today, but he did say he wanted to make something for the servants. No matter how bad he felt, he always lived up to his word.

So here he was, in the brightly lit kitchen, striking a bitter broth with Jungkook standing guard nearby.

"What is it?" Seokjin asked.

A sly smirk slid into Jungkook's lips, and he glanced down at his nails. "Nothing, your highness. It's just that, I've been calling you for the past five minutes."

There was an undercurrent of worry in his tone, though.

He lifted his head imperceptibly, and looked straight at his master, the smile turning into a full-blown grin. "I'm worried that hearing loss comes with age. You are old, after all."

Seokjin gripped the ladle threateningly, and waved it angrily. "Yah, kid! Don't treat me this way! I'm a prince! What happened to the respectful boy I met ten months ago, huh?!"

Jungkook cackled, and dodged a swipe. He landed nimbly on his feet, and clasped his hands behind his back, looking victorious.

They occasionally had bouts like this. Jungkook would provoke him, and Seokjin would relent.

Usually, a servant being this arrogant and upfront with his master would have him punished, or even worse, slain, but Seokjin knew that all of this was in good jest, and let it slide.

His husband would chuckle when hearing Seokjin complain about Jungkook's shenanigans at night, when they lay in bed together.

Seokjin growled, about to tackle him (the training he had back in the palace would come in handy), but then, he faltered, feeling a wave of nausea take over him.

He turned pale, and Jungkook's eyes widened. Seokjin trembled slightly, throwing out a hand onto the table.

The servant rushed forward, gripping his master's arms and pulling him up, dragging him over to the wash bucket just in time, as to where Seokjin buckled over, and threw up.

Jungkook rubbed a hand to Seokjin's back, murmuring soothing words. Tears pricked the corners of the prince's eyes, but he squeezed them away as he emptied out his stomach. He was a prince. A man. Crying because of bile wouldn't help him live up to the legacy of his military training.

Finally, Seokjin rested his head against the rim of the bucket, sweat pouring down his temples.

It was silent, other than Seokjin's ragged breathing.

"Do you want me to go get Master?" Jungkook asked, his voice hushed. Seokjin shook his head weakly, and Jungkook frowned, but he didn't say anything he carried Seokjin to his bedroom.

The soup was left boiling over the fire.

*

"Is that what happened?" his husband asked, concern roughening his voice, and Seokjin's insides warmed up at the worry.

In the dark, he placed a hand to his husband's chest, his cheeks burning red. His husband traced circles against Seokjin's hip bone, his chest rumbling with thoughtful humming.

Seokjin truly loved his husband, this monster that was feared by everyone. He was treated wonderfully, and lived happily in the mansion. He didn't have a single regret.

However, there was one question nagging at the back of his brain...

"When will I ever get to see you?" he asked quietly, and his husband stopped, the hand that was brushing Seokjin's skin stilling.

Everything was silent. Even the wise night owls stifled their cries, for they knew that this was important.

"I want to know," Seokjin said vehemently, anger slipping into his tone, and he sat up, pressing his back against the bed's cold headboard. "We are married! We are forever bound, my dear, bound by an oath to be faithful, to care, to be loyal, to love!"

He groaned when his husband stayed quiet. It was a contemplative silence, though.

"By the gods, I am your husband! You are my husband! We are spouses— we are married!"

"We are married," his husband finally said, his voice strangely detached. "That is the reason why I cannot show you my face."

There was a rustling of sheets as he sat up as well.

This caused Seokjin to stop his rave, and he stared at the outline of the monster he calls husband.

"If I showed you my face, Husband, this marriage, this beautiful union would fall apart. Everything would disappear. And I..." His voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat, obviously choked up with tears. "I do not want that for us, my darling, my Seokjin."

A hand slipped around Seokjin's waist. "And neither do I want that for our child."

"...What?"

Fear seized his heart coldly like ice, and something in his chest swelled. He was pregnant? What? When? He couldn't believe it. He rested his hand against his flat-like stomach.

His husband squeezed his waist gently.

"Yes." His husband's voice was cracking, and something cold dripped onto Seokjin's hand, and he jolted. He leaned over, and grabbed his husband's face.

"Are you crying?"

"Yes. I am so thankful, Seokjin, for what we have. If you glimpsed upon my appearance, I don't think.." He trailed off again and sniffed. "I don't think I would be able to cope if you disappeared."

After that, they laid in bed, talking and crying over everything and anything. It was the same like any other night, with his husband telling him tales, with Seokjin himself talking about what happened during the day.

But this time, he was aware of the life growing in his stomach.

He rejoiced, pushing the fear away, but he was also conflicted.

How could he raise a child with a man he has never met?

Chapter Text

Eros was lonely for most of his long-lasting life.

(Isn't that ironic for a love god—)

(To be lonely.)

Loneliness was such constant shadow in his life, that it carved out his heart, and laid it bare for the world to see. It made him cold, and vicious, and ruthless—

Just like a god.

Eros had always strived to be human-like, to not be one of his kind— the kind that made him gnash his teeth together and made him clench his arrows so hard that they broke.

But after centuries of loneliness, Eros wasn't sure he cared anymore.

*
He remembers asking once, to the god of livelihood, why he had fallen in love. Why he had married a human, of all beings. He didn't care about humans, he found them weak, greedy, idiotic little ants he could lead astray (with madness, with lust, with greed) with one shot of his arrows. He never visited the temples that were built for him— temples built on the backs of human ambition.

Chan-woo had smiled, then, (a soft, sly thing,) and said amusedly, "I find her fascinating."

Eros had blinked, disgust immediately threatening to come out in angry words. Fascinating. It would've been better if he had said that he had some sort of lust for her—

(Loneliness threatens to consume him—)

Gods and superior entities don't find inferiors beings fascinating—

(Is that why he can't comprehend love anymore—)

Especially not humans.

(Love that destroys cities and temples and humans—)

But when he meets Kim Seokjin, the pinnacle, (the embodiment) of pure beauty, of a pure heart—

(Only leaving lust and greed in its wake—)

Oh, he finds him fascinating.

*
Eros (Namjoon) laughs now, watching Seokjin from Olympus.

(Is it because he's not lonely anymore?)

*
When Aphrodite (his mother, the very woman who had risen from sea foam and raised him) told him to make Kim Seokjin, the purest of humans, to fall in love with a hideous monster, he feels loneliness crawl back into his newly-pumped heart.

And he feels scared.

He has not felt that in centuries.

Sitting down on his downy bed, afterwards, he pulls out one of his arrows from his quiver and studies it, golden eyes narrowing. It was never hard for him to make humans fall in l—

(in lust, he tells himself)

But why was it hard now?

He sighs, fingers curling around the sharp arrow. He frowns in thought as an idea occurs to him.

He could make Seokjin crazy for him—

(After all, isn't he a monster—)

But he decides not to. He does not want to see his muse's eyes grow blank from a want, from a need that wasn't his, to see his pure heart grow corrupted.

In the end, he decides to steal Seokjin to live with him, a mocking version of a small seed of happiness.

He never tells his mother.