Chapter Text
In the morning, Jongwoo finally heard movement from Moonjo. He had woken in the living room, and by the sounds of it, he was still in a lot of pain. Jongwoo didn’t yet want to leave his room and see the bruised, bloodied man. Having spent that night thinking about his own strange, somewhat emotional responses to him, his typical self control was weakened significantly. Of course, Jongwoo still knew he would have to face it, sooner rather than later. So, he stood up, and looked in the mirror to ensure he looked human enough, slightly less well kept than usual. No human would look so beautiful, especially after a fight the night before.
Vampirism was perfect to a fault, hiding any imperfections, turning the once mortal shell into its refined blueprint, no signs of the mistakes of before, even when it caused the vampire to stand out more. So, every time Jongwoo left the apartment, he had to spend a few minutes humanizing himself.
After ruffling his hair a little and pressing into the almost completely healed bruises with an extremely heavy hand, Jongwoo left his room, bruises bloomed once again. He finally saw Moonjo, the human was standing at the kitchen counter. He looked better than before, though perhaps that was because the cloud of fear from Eden had faded. Vampires tend to make no noise as they walk, so by the time he was behind Moonjo, the man startled very slightly, hearing Jongwoo calling his name so close. As much as the human tried to hide his surprise, Jongwoo saw through it, and something in him leapt at the discovery of this new skill he had.
After composing himself, Moonjo turned around, looking Jongwoo in the eyes, regaining his usual confidence, still under the impression that his mask was seamless.
“Good morning Jagia.”
“Sleep well, Moonjo?” Jongwoo asked sarcastically. He honestly wanted to be rid of this man already, but unfortunately, he couldn’t bring himself to kill him. The next best thing Jongwoo had thought of whilst Mooonjo had been asleep was to keep him near, satisfying his urge to watch Moonjo for purely selfish reasons. It was probably better this way anyway, if he didn’t keep an eye on Moonjo, the man would most likely terrorise others or draw too much attention to Daegu, which Jongwoo didn’t want to have to deal with so soon in his relocation.
Jongwoo made himself a cup of coffee, his back turned to Moonjo, who was helping himself to a glass of water. The non-human then leant against his counter, narrowing his eyes at Moonjo, almost pouting as he analysed the man. He knew that he had been obsessed in Eden, but the origin of that obsession was unknown, it was nothing like affection, and the likelihood of it remaining for so long would be unlikely. But what else explained Moonjo’s appearance at the library? Why else was he still in Jongwoo’s apartment after getting beaten?
Just as Jongwoo mused over Moonjo’s misplaced comfort, as if he was mindreading, the man walked to the bathroom and Jongwoo heard the shower turn on. Moonjo had always ignored typical boundaries, but still, Jongwoo hadn't expected such ignorant confidence. It was funny, similar to how he himself had acted when he had first moved to Eden. Unaware of the threat, he had thrown himself around the goshiwon, still able to shower with his eyes closed. Now Moonjo was the unwise one, too human to think of unconventional threats such as Jongwoo, how presumptuous!
The room was now quiet, leaving Jongwoo to survey the damage of the previous night’s beating. There was a pool of blood on the floor, he saw that it was mostly congealed after kneeling next to it, peering over it. He was trying to gauge whether it would be a quick clean up or take longer, but it really felt like a waste...
As much as he held his nose, and as much as he tried to regain the control he hadn’t had since yesterday, just sitting next to Moonjo’s blood for a few minutes was too much for Jongwoo. After only a few moments of edging closer and breathing it in openly, letting himself grow within his mouth, he found himself leant over the thickened puddle, licking up as much of it as possible. Relief flowed through his body, rocking his brain around enough to make him dizzy with a depraved kind of pleasure.
It looked shameful, and it was obviously perverse, but it felt too good, better even, although it was Moonjo’s blood. Jongwoo knew this was abnormal for him, but he also knew it was to do with the way he had acted when he had refused to kill Moonjo; there were no isolated incidents these days.
‘I need to stop attaching so much meaning to everything, this is my instinct now, and I should allow myself to indulge, otherwise what is the point of this extended life.?’ A part of Jongwoo tried to ignore his growing feelings. That part of him would rather pretend that nothing was changing, that it was all the same as before, but it was being proved wrong each day.
Recently a reckless voice had been showing up, tempting Jongwoo to do things that would indicate a lack of control. Inviting him to do things that he had avoided doing long before he had become a vampire and had no intention of starting now. It was not the direction that he had wanted to go in, but it seemed that Moonjo had accelerated the dissolution of his rationality. The impulsive and animalistic part of Jongwoo was progressing further daily, since even as Jongwoo fought with his moral grey-scale internally, he was still crouched over the bloody floor, licking as enthusiastically as ever.
So enthusiastically in fact, that he hadn't yet noticed the shower stopping in his bathroom, nor the padding of footsteps approaching the bathroom door. It was only when the door to the bathroom opened, unleashing the sweat infused steam from the hot shower that Jongwoo stopped his movements. He was quick to put on a disappointed face, attempting to cover up his inhuman behavior with a more typical reaction of annoyance at the stain. It was how he may have reacted, had he still been human.
Instead of speaking to Moonjo, Jongwoo headed to get cleaning supplies, he couldn't think of anything to say at that moment that wouldn’t leave him in a worse position, so he stayed silent and got to removing the rest of the blood.
The two men stayed in silence for a long time, Moonjo took to sitting down and watching Jongwoo, and Jongwoo spent his time rearranging his apartment to its previous spotless self, cleaning up any DNA Moonjo had left, any hair in the drains, blood in the cracks of the floorboards.
‘God, it’s like being back at Eden, he still thinks he owns the place, owns me. I could take him right now, I just choose not to. Lucky bastard doesn't even know it. I reckon he’d like it though, fucking pervert.’
Unfortunately for Jongwoo the last two words were said out loud, causing the dormant Moonjo to snap his head up, something in his eyes was excited about the insult presumably intended for him. Jongwoo hadn't let his guard down like that since he was in Eden, and even then, it was towards the beginning of his time there, before he had realised the danger he could put himself in with a careless mouth. For Moonjo, hearing Jongwoo feel comfortable enough to swear and insult him was relieving, it meant Jongwoo was hiding from himself less these days.
Obviously Moonjo didn't know anything about what Jongwoo was hiding, from himself or other people. Even if he once thought he knew everything about the man. Any impression of power over Jongwoo was, at least for now, an illusion.
Only a few hours later, Moonjo left, he didn't give an explanation, but he didn't have to, Jongwoo was content following him, since today was one of his days off. He watched the other man walk to the bus stop from his window, leaving about a one minute gap before he left his apartment to follow Moonjo.
On the other side of town, the bus stopped, and with it Jongwoo got out of his car to follow Moonjo on foot. His feelings were changing with each step, possession, residual hatred, craving, hunger. All of them cycled through Jongwoo's head, but he wasn't concerned yet, there was no rush, especially when Moonjo didn't seem to be leaving this town anytime soon.
Moonjo stopped outside a dentist’s office, presumably his new workplace.
The building looked relatively new and full of life, though Moonjo would likely manage to drain that too. Jongwoo took note of the weak looking door and the open windows, ‘just in case’. Moonjo, although human, was unpredictable, and Jongwoo knew not to underestimate him, perhaps he would have to get over himself one day and just kill the man.
The rest of Jongwoo’s time off of work was spent tailing Moonjo, watching his every move, including when Moonjo himself attempted to stalk Jongwoo himself.
When Jongwoo returned to the library, his coworkers noticed a difference in the way he acted, even if he himself couldn't yet see it. For one, his gaze seemed to linger too long, like he was a bad actor. Another thing that they had never experienced was his awful temper. It was new to them, so they were often at a loss when with every mishap or issue he lost his patience, angry at the incompetence of others. Fortunately it had only manifested in scoldings and glares towards his co-workers, but that was enough to scare them off, so different from the quiet, cold man they had known.
‘Will Moonjo visit the library again? What should I say to him next time? He seemed so similar to before, but I guess I pity him now, still under the impression that he has all of the power.’
Jongwoo’s thoughts were obsessive, leaving him with clouded judgement, usually he was so sure of himself, but these days he was holed up inside his head. Moonjo was consuming him again, no matter how much he had changed, perhaps Jongwoo would just have to consume the other man first.
A pair of eyes stared from between bookshelves, dark and hungry, Jongwoo was distracted yet again, he had lost control of his face, leaving it to twist in the presence of so many humans, the smell of their flesh, upturned wrists turning pages. Licking their fingers to turn a page, moist, pink tongues snaking out and dabbing their index fingers before leaving little bits of themselves between the pages.
Days went by without the two remaining goshiwon ‘survivors’ interacting, both feeling itchy with need. Jongwoo spent his time staking out new victims whenever he wasn't tailing Moonjo to and from work. He was drawn to certain features, certain hairstyles, ways of talking, more than he was concerned with moral integrity nowadays.
The dental practice Moonjo worked at was popular, meaning he had regular contact with locals, a demonstration of the man’s ability to camouflage somewhat amongst normal, untouched souls. Jongwoo felt like an outsider in the place he lived again, only this time, he seemed to be the danger lurking. A role reversal that, to be fair, had happened a very long time ago, but it had been a while since others recognised his predatory nature. Every time he spoke to his coworkers, they seemed uneasy, put off by his strange body language and behaviour, even if they could barely explain what it was exactly that made them afraid.
Because of certain other preoccupations, it had been over a week since Jongwoo had eaten, but he seemed to be growing more suspicious to the townsfolk by the day. It was becoming clear that he would be forced to lower his standards for food, his old dependency on the morals and character of his victims would have to be ignored — at least excused — if he was to thrive in this new place.
Two people went missing after that, on different sides of town. One of the murderers responsible was puzzled by the second disappearance, Moonjo had assumed that his old darling was defective now, or at least not so independent, so surely it was someone new…
Jongwoo, on the other hand, knew exactly who had been responsible for the other disappearance; he had watched Moonjo take the person's life firsthand. The poor victim was crying as they died, blood spilled everywhere, wasted on the ground as Jongwoo looked on in desperation, longing to consume every drop that spilled. Unfortunately for him, a large percentage of blood seemed to have landed on Moonjo’s face, so, disgustingly enough, it left him aching to lick it off.
Time went on, the mutual stalking continued, but Jongwoo’s stalking began to morph into some twisted interest, genuine in a way. He still couldn't explain it himself, but he was ignoring the old rituals that had made him seem more human in place of following Moonjo, paying for security footage of him that he now had sorted into folders on his computer. Risking his reputation in this city.
As much as Jongwoo had subconsciously hated Moonjo, he found it increasingly difficult to keep up the hate-filled act.
When Jongwoo had been at Eden, Moonjo first appeared as the only normal one there, a refuge in a sea of madness. Not only was he an emergency lifeline to Jongwoo, but he was genuinely interested in the man. Moonjo liked the same authors as Jongwoo and asked about his book. So, soon he became more than a life jacket, which made the ‘betrayal’ worse. Moonjo was obsessed with digging out Jongwoo’s deepest desires out for everyone to see, things that Jongwoo hid from even himself, but with the chaos of demons around him, he did slip into his depravity, at least partially. And Moonjo won.
Perhaps the worst part, at the time, had been knowing that Moonjo was right, and part of that sadistic fuck actually cared in some twisted way, like he really wanted Jongwoo to feel the relief of living freely. Realising that he was like Moonjo, that he could have it good with him scared Jongwoo, he wasn’t at all ready to confront himself so soon. So he fled, he ran away from Eden, ran from the bodies and his desire. Until he was given his new life, forced to kill, without the emotion. He still felt called to maintain morals, whether that was an echo of his old sentimentality towards pure and innocent life, or a rule set to stop the power and bloodlust inside him from getting him discovered.
Now that Jongwoo was around Moonjo again, he felt like he wanted to be around him constantly once again. After all, he was lonely. Lonely in a more abstract sense than before, he didn't cry at night and shake in fear, but he did feel robotic, acting the same every day with no like-minded kin to share his experiences. Could Moonjo really be called like minded though? Was his killing meaningful enough, smart enough? Was it essential to his life in the way blood kept Jongwoo ‘alive’?
It felt too emotionally charged for Jongwoo to argue with himself. Out of place for someone that could barely remember what it felt like to feel, unstable even. That left the man wary, it was why he refused to show his face to Moonjo these days, why he stayed in the shadows where he could leave his growing unease to fester. Resentment mixed with curiosity and morphed into something sharp and hungry.
The two couldn't stay separate for long, but someone would have to take the first step, and Moonjo, shameless as ever, took it. He stood at Jongwoo’s truck after work one day, once again taking the highground, leaving the other man no choice but to acknowledge his presence.
“Have you been avoiding me Jagi?” Moonjo asked, cooing sarcastically.
“FUCK!” Jongwoo shouted, unable to contain his anger for the first time in years. Something felt off to Jongwoo, like he knew he shouldn't be feeling these emotions, but he was too caught up in his anger to stop and recognise that this could only be a bad sign. His anger mixed with hunger, making it increasingly difficult to not suck Moonjo dry right there. Of course it was far too public, and would be difficult to clean up all of the blood, so the best Jongwoo could do was slice into his own wrist with his teeth.
As soon as his blood hit his tongue, he felt as if he had taken a bath on a hot day, relieved by the calm the taste of blood gave him. Watching Moonjo’s sly face flicker with confusion at his actions, whilst continuing to lick and suck at his bitter blood felt better than Jongwoo had imagined. It felt dirty, something he typically avoided because of his constant desire to be pure, even when murdering, but this dirt was good, stained him with a beautiful filth. This kind of scum was unavoidable to Jongwoo unfortunately, just as he could never have really left Eden intentionally, even now, as a vampire, he knew Moonjo’s grip was unavoidable.
Jongwoo drank until he felt sick from his own insipid blood, a good last resort in cases like these though, finally feeling like he wasn't about to tear straight through Moonjo’s neck. Moonjo was still talking, something about being surprised to bump into Jongwoo in Daegu of all places. ‘Obviously it's shocking you prick, I would never have come here if I had known.’
“So, my lease just ended on my apartment, and I don't have anywhere to stay. You wouldn't dare say no would you Jagi?” Moonjo was trying to be intimidating with his poorly concealed threats, no doubt wanting to become close to Jongwoo and take control of the man again. To Jongwoo, it was quite pathetic. Moonjo could threaten him, but he was in no position to follow up on them anymore, so although Jongwoo saw through his plan, he still accepted with a careful timid act. ‘I might be able to turn him into a living blood bag if I'm careful… I watch him every day anyway, this would just make it easier.’
Moonjo was obviously expecting Jongwoo’s timid reply, looking pleased with himself, knowing that he was in control again. He had missed this feeling, like he was responsible for someone else, like a creator.
Jongwoo led Moonjo to his apartment for the second time, allowing him into the space he had dreamed of living in the last time he knew the other man. Jongwoo recalled what had happened last time Moonjo was there and for the second time that day, felt his teeth grow in his mouth, struggling to suppress his hunger, he went straight to his room, unafraid of what Moonjo might do in his absence.
Now that Jongwoo was alone, he could think about his lack of control earlier in the day. The first time was the worst, and was a completely new feeling. Jongwoo hadn't lost control of his urge to kill since he was a human, yet recently so many things had been happening that had once seemed like distant memories from his human years. His body and mind felt like they were reverting back, no longer as untouchable and potent as before. At first, Jongwoo had thought that he could stay in control of himself whilst pursuing Moonjo, but he was losing confidence in his power to keep his feelings separate from the rest of himself.
Moonjo was the trigger, that much was obvious, but in the last week of stalking, every moment without him felt like a step closer to hell. Jongwoo felt disgusted by Moonjo’s aimless killing, his pretentious art, yet he was continually drawn in by its undeniable beauty and his passion. There would be no comfortable way out, for once Jongwoo would have to be uncomfortable one way or another. The ‘best’ option for now was the one Jongwoo had chosen, to keep Moonjo in the dark, but alive.
That night was the most intimate Jongwoo had ever been with anyone. He was taking care of Moonjo’s wounds so that the smell of blood would fade from the man, at least a bit, making it harder for Jongwoo to lose control. Another reason was, should he choose to feed on Moonjo later, any infections would make the blood near undrinkable.
Behind Jongwoo’s excuses, there was a kind of pleasure he found mending Moonjo’s Wounds. Seeing Moonjo defenseless and calm for once made him pleased, knowing that he was essentially Moonjo’s carer, whether the man himself was aware or not, he was fully at the mercy of Jongwoo. The two men sat quietly close, unlike their silence before that was always charged with some violent energy, this time there was a genuine lul in the hostility, admittedly the hostility had mostly come from Jongwoo, but Moonjo never hesitated to return it tenfold.
Every touch to Moonjo’s skin was hot, perhaps because of Jongwoo's cold hands, or the life within the other that gave such a stark contrast. The two men were close on the sofa, faced towards each other, breathing the same air, and yet there was no argument, no fight. There was a vulnerability that neither of the men had allowed themselves before, Moonjo, because he had to defend himself as an imperfect hunter, and Jongwoo; as a lonely, perfect hunter.
It felt strange, caring for Moonjoo, but at the same time, Jongwoo had long since accepted their similarities, and he knew that it was also an instinct to them both, even if he found himself a bit more refined and moral. It felt nice having Moonjo with him, unguarded for once. As much as Moonjo wanted to seem powerful and cruel, he did a lot of hiding of his feelings, Jongwoo could see right through it, as someone who had experienced life without feelings, Moonjo’s apathy was rehearsed, perhaps a defence against his guilt towards his evil nature. Jongwoo was making assumptions, but they didn't seem too inaccurate.
The Ethanol burnt as it touched Moonjo’s skin, but he didn't flinch, not sensitive to pain anymore, evidenced by all of the scars on his arm. The only sign he was aware of the wounds on his body being touched was an extremely quiet, low hum that lilted every now and then.
Jongwoo looked into Moonjo’s eyes after he finished, Moonjo stared right back, attempting to seem intimidating, all the while he was shirtless, sat cross legged facing Jongwoo. Still, Jongwoo looked away after a while, even if not for the reasons the other man would have wanted.
It was dark outside, so when Jongwoo turned the lights off in the living room, the entire apartment turned black. It was easy for Jongwoo to navigate, but another obstacle for Moonjo. Once again, Jongwoo was silently proving his advantage.
That night Jongwoo walked to the living room where Moonjo was sleeping, he watched the man for a while, thinking over his recent decision. It was difficult to tear his eyes away, obsessive even. As if Moonjo might disappear, as if that could in any way be a bad thing. Jongwoo was beginning to accept that whilst he should have the upper hand between them, he didn't. Along with the emotions that had begun to show again, he found himself talking himself out of doing things that he never would have before.
Another change was happening faster than Jongwoo had thought, and it felt like a brick to the chest, the feelings were hitting him in one, concentrated place in his heart, Moonjo. It was unstoppable really, from the start, Jongwoo had no idea how his vampirism worked, he was never supposed to be turned, he just made the mistake of biting back. And because he had no way of knowing why his emotions faded after he was turned, or to what extent, there was no way to prevent their return.
A few weeks went by with Jongwoo ignoring Moonjo’s comments, about the lack of real food in his apartment, about his night-time habits, and about his inability to stalk Jongwoo. All of these snarky, poorly disguised questions were manageable to Jongwoo, but his lack of a reply pissed Moonjo off, who spent those days encouraging fights until he was left on the floor.
Jongwoo continued his job at the library where suspicions had calmed down, there was something keeping him grounded these days, and he was no longer distracted. His hunts were semi-regular, although he was forced to stop and reschedule sometimes because of Moonjo following him. His excuse was pretty disgusting, having to paint himself as a sex addict to Moonjo, who only stopped following him because of the intimate nature of Jongwoo’s absence. The vampire wouldn't have put it past him to intrude on that too, but for whatever reason, he had so far been able to freely feed.
It had been a long day at the library, with multiple people cutting their fingers on the books and barely covering the blood. Jongwoo was forced to sit through it and smell all of the leftover blood on the tables, even when he was cleaning it, the smell was still right there next to the smell of the cleaning products, producing an unbearable mix of delicious blood, and abhorrent chemical cocktails. Because of this awful day, he knew he would have to feed that night. So, after he went home, he put on his non-work clothes and got ready to leave. Moonjo was quite quiet that night, not asking any invasive questions, which should have raised some warning flags in Jongwoo’s head, but he was just glad that the man was leaving him alone.
Jongwoo left the apartment block in search of the victim he had already been stalking for a number of days. He was grateful to himself for his preparedness, leaving himself a buffer in case of emergencies. As he approached the man, he felt uncomfortable, but blamed it on his hunger, not wanting to delay his meal any longer, for fear of losing control. The victim was in his garden, he had been smoking and was heading in for the night.
This hunt was one of silence, no interaction with the man before him, only death as a quiet exchange. As soon as the man turned away from the shadow where the vampire lay in wait, Jongwoo sprung. First, he grabbed the man’s neck with strong hands, halting any cries for help, feeling his neck tense and wriggle under his fingers. Jongwoo’s nails dug into either side of the man’s Adam's apple, forcing it to bulge out even more. The name became more fitting than ever as it turned more like a juicy apple by the second, reddening with blood and ripe to bite into.
What a sin, the forbidden fruit. Still, it burst in his mouth with a certain willingness, blood pouring over Jongwoo’s gums, pumping with the heartbeat of the dying man that Jongwoo still held. Every gulp felt like control returning to Jongwoo, a second of complete control amidst his slowly crumbling mind. Jongwoo grasped at the man, feeling the heat radiating off of him, the last of his blood, blood that would be gone from his body soon.
The rush of fear felt addictive to Jongwoo as he pulled from the mind of the corpse between his arms, nothing left but flesh and organs. Useless, flabby things organs were, but gorgeous marvels of the human body's evolution.
Behind the garden wall was a man watching, no fear in his eyes, instead a perverse kind of joy. He didn't have the best view, so although he couldn’t tell what Jongwoo’s method of destruction was, it was clear what had happened. Thankfully the angle of Jongwoo’s face caught the light enough for Moonjo to see the man's ecstasy, his expression was so intense that Moonjo himself felt it, as if he had killed the man himself.
Moonjo’s breath hitched at the sight of his Jagia, all wild and free, no fear in his movements. It took a great effort to not go over and watch closer, stand beside him, but he managed to hold back. Unfortunately that was pointless, as his now heavy breathing was just loud enough to catch the attention of Jongwoo, who upon seeing the onlooker, dropped the body in his hands and ran — much faster than any human should — towards Moonjo. Hands were covering the man's mouth before he could even congratulate his Jagia on the kill.
“Be quiet and come with me while I dump him.” Jongwoo wasn’t actually that surprised that Moonjo had found him, it was something he had made preparations for, given Moonjo’s intrusive nature. He was mostly disappointed at his lack of awareness of his surroundings, if it hadn't been Moonjo, he could have just destroyed everything.
Jongwoo loaded Moonjo into the car and began driving them to his burial grounds. It was silent, but Moonjo seemed to be internally beaming, pleased at Jongwoo’s actions, hopefully a silent confirmation that he did not sense anything off about the attack. Although Moonjo’s general discovery of Jongwoo would bring some negatives, the vampire was still riding the high of his feed and didn't want to deal with the inevitable fallout just yet. As for whether Moonjo saw the bite as well was another story, one that could lead to his death depending on what the vampire would do with his freshly exposed identity.
They arrived at the disposal location, and Moonjo stayed in the car whilst Jongwoo buried the body, unable to do it as fast as usual for fear of Moonjo catching onto his unnatural strength. Digging was usually therapeutic for the vampire, a time to think of nothing, but today there was far too much to think about, for one, Moonjo had been bothering him for a while, all the time they had been living together, and now this. Even if Moonjo had only seen the murder as human on human, now that he knew Jongwoo was back to killing, he was sure to cling to Jongwoo far more than before, excited that Jongwoo was ‘being true to himself’ or some other preaching of his serial killer hippie shit.
Jongwoo drove back to his apartment, pale blue moonlight streamed in through the car windows, making him look even less real, almost a ghost, or a hallucination. He was Moonjo’s perfect creation, it was almost impossible for him to tear his eyes off of Jongwoo, staring at the confident beauty Jongwoo had now.
Eventually Moonjo looked away, staring at the winding road back into Daegu. After they reached the apartment block, they walked up the stairs, only their footsteps and a few huffs from Moonjo echoed around the stairwell. When they entered the living room, Jongwoo looked at Moonjo for the first time since getting back in the car at the burial grounds. It was strange, for the first time in all the vampire's time knowing him, he actually looked tired. It wouldn’t be a strange thing for most other people, but back in Eden, Moonjo had only ever shown himself to be almost immortal in his lack of human food, lack of sleep and his somewhat unkillable body. Though a lot of that effect does get hidden when compared to a real, perfect, immortal being such as Jongwoo.
After Jongwoo went to his room, feeling peaceful from the earlier feed, Moonjo finally lay on the sofa and slept, not that it was restful in the slightest, dreams chasing him awake after only a few hours. The man woke up at 3AM and began to replay the night in his head. He knew he had seen more than Jongwoo just killing that man, he had his mouth around his neck. The look in his eyes too, the ecstasy, the tsunami of pleasure that was evident on his face, it was too much, too strange for someone like Jongwoo, who was so much more energetic and passionate with his kills.
A lot more had changed in the last few years than Moonjo had thought.
Jongwoo heard Moonjo’s murmuring, and he understood the questions that were to come, he wasn't careful enough, and he was the only one he could blame for that. His explanation would be penance for such a sin. For a while he waited, sat with the unfamiliar discomfort that seemed to be becoming more regular these days.
“Good morning Moonjo. You're up early.” Jongwoo finally left his room at 5AM, feigning normalcy in front of Moonjo, who just stared at him and smiled in that wide, twistedly genuine way.
“Jagia? I have a question about last night…”