EP 1

I fell in love with a devil.

And I knew exactly what he was.

The night had swallowed everything. My room was dark, moonlight spilling through the curtains in faint silver stripes. The kind of darkness that presses against your skin, alive and patient. I had just drifted into sleep when I felt it—a pull, a presence at the edge of my consciousness.

At first, I thought it was a dream.

Then I saw him.

He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame as if he belonged there, as if the shadows themselves had folded around him. His eyes—black as smoke, reflecting something ancient and dangerous—pierced through the dim light. Every instinct screamed at me to move, to run, but my body stayed rooted.

“Who are you?” I whispered, though my voice trembled more with fascination than fear.

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate. The floorboards didn’t creak. The air around him didn’t stir. It was as if he moved through the darkness itself, untouched by the world.

“You’re awake,” he said, low and smooth, a velvet-edged growl. “I thought you’d sleep through me.”

“I… I don’t know who you are,” I admitted, my throat tight.

“I’m exactly who you think I am,” he replied, eyes narrowing. “You can feel it, can’t you?”

I swallowed. I did feel it. The pull beneath the chill. The temptation that carried a sharp edge, a danger that thrilled me instead of scaring me.

“I… I do,” I said quietly.

A slow, dangerous smile curved at the corner of his lips. “And yet you didn’t run.”

“No,” I said. “I didn’t.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said suddenly, voice colder now. The warmth in his gaze dimmed just slightly. “Not with me. Not now.”

“I know,” I replied, calm even though my pulse raced. “And I don’t care.”

He tilted his head, studying me like I was a riddle he didn’t want to solve—but couldn’t ignore. “Most people would’ve screamed, run, begged for their life.”

“I’m not most people,” I whispered, stepping slightly closer.

His smile vanished. For the first time, his eyes held something raw—irritation, warning, maybe a flicker of fear. “You’re reckless.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe I just know what I want.”

“Do you?” His voice dropped, sharper, almost dangerous. “Do you really?”

“Yes,” I said firmly. “And it’s you.”

The words hovered in the air, heavy and electric. He didn’t move immediately. Then he stepped closer. Just a little—enough for me to feel the heat of him, the unnatural cold that clung to his skin, the darkness that dripped off him like smoke.

“You have no idea what you’re saying,” he murmured, low and dangerous.

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” I answered, my eyes locked on his.

“You don’t understand what being near me means,” he warned.

“I do,” I said.

“You could get hurt. Lose everything you hold dear.”

“I’ll take the risk,” I whispered.

A flicker crossed his eyes, subtle but undeniable. Something that might have been curiosity, frustration, or warning. Perhaps all three. Some part of him wanted to push me away. Some part of him was terrified I might see too much.

“I don’t want you to stay,” he said finally, a sharp edge cutting through the quiet.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.

He paused, shadows falling across his face like liquid night. His gaze was stormy, dangerous, impossibly heavy. “You should stay away from me,” he said.

I didn’t blink.

And I didn’t move.

The wind outside whispered against the window, brushing the curtains and carrying the faint smell of something cold and metallic. It mingled with the presence of him in the room, thickening the air until it felt impossible to breathe.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he repeated, quieter now. Almost… pleading.

“I know,” I said, taking another step forward. My bare feet barely made a sound against the wooden floor. “And I still am.”

He tilted his head, observing me like a predator assessing prey—though it was clear he wasn’t sure if he was hunting me, or protecting me. Maybe both.

“You’re reckless,” he said again.

“And you’re terrifying,” I said, a small smirk tugging at my lips.

For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then:

“Why?” he asked. Not accusing, not questioning. Just… trying to understand.

“Why what?” I asked.

“Why do you stay? Why aren’t you afraid? Why… me?”

I swallowed. There was no simple answer. “Because I feel… something. Something you can’t hide.”

He froze. And in that instant, I understood—he was as alive as the night itself, every shadow and flicker of cold, every edge of danger. And I wanted all of it.

“You’re insane,” he said finally.

“Maybe,” I whispered. “But I’ve never wanted anything more.”

The silence stretched. The night pressed closer, the shadows crawling along the walls like liquid. My heartbeat was loud, almost painful, but I didn’t step back.

“You should stay away from me,” he said again, softer this time, like a warning wrapped in inevitability.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t move. I didn’t even blink.

Because I already knew I wouldn’t.

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