❝ and so god help me - i fell in love with a monster, and it broke my soul in two. ❞
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Kim Taehyung was lust incarnate - a devil with allure, a Fae prince shrouded in mystery. When Chae Luna met him on a crowded street one night, she became his...
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Would you rather trust a cunning demon, or a fallen angel exiled for their sins?
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EMERALD EYES, COLD smiles and a blur of trains whistling by on tracks followed me into my dreams.
The stranger's voice swam in a murky haze, repeating my name over and over again in that low timbre of his ("until we meet again, Chae Luna") - before the dream turned sinister.
My vision suddenly blotted all over with red - red as vivid as the slightly chapped lips of the regal blonde on the train, who now sits across me once more as the edges of my vision blossomed out. The corners of my world slowly twisted and turned, unfurling little by little to finally form the familiar view of yesterday's train compartment.
And in the dreamscape, it had strangely felt real.
Everything felt real, from the fear that roiled in my stomach, to the sharp jolt of my heartbeat thrashing against my sternum - I could even feel the silky texture of the coat I had on, slightly damp to the touch due to the melting flakes from the wintry night.
Even the cramped air and murmured chatter of the nine p.m train ride was startlingly clear, which was weird because up until now, all my dreams consisted of vaguely-strung scenarios that, when I had woken up, made absolutely no sense to me. Most of the time I would end up forgetting them, and so I'd learned to shrug it off.
This time, I didn't.
Because the blonde stranger, with a face so striking that you can't look away even if you wanted to, drew himself up, up, up into a standing position.
Graceful and lethal and fluid - within a flash, he was leaning his upper body forward in my direction, one of his hands leisurely cradling the overhead overhead railing, the other tucked into his jacket's pocket.
I could only blink, my breath stuck in my throat. Dread, curdling and acidic, gathered in my blood, screaming at me to run, escape, run, this isn't safe.
But my brain wouldn't wake up, even if I was aware that I was dreaming by then.
Bouncing on the balls of his feet, the blonde took my silence as an invitation, drawing his face even nearer before I had the chance. He was now only about inches away, consuming my entire line of view.
Coal lashes fringed his black eyes, so pitch-black that, if it weren't for the ringed brown flakes around his pupils, I would've mistaken him as a demon with eyes of sin.
Or, at least, the rest of his face was certainly inviting of sin - lips that look kissable, reddened and just thick enough to warrant softness to kisses but roughness to claiming of skin; a sloped nose that complemented the slight, angular cheekbones framing his face; artfully-arranged blonde hair, trimmed with an undercut that gave off an air of complete and total recklessness.
