╰┈➤𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔞

I was lost in thought as the day dragged on. The classes had ended, but I was still stuck in my mind, sinking deeper into this state of depression.

I just wanted to be alone, to breathe without the weight of everything pressing down on me.

But then I saw him. Him. Taehyung—the devil himself, standing there with Soojin. My heart burned, jealousy twisting in my chest, and I could feel the bitterness rise in my throat.

I turned away, walking quickly to the college terrace, hoping to escape, to clear my head. I stood there, staring out into the distance, letting out a deep sigh.

But then I heard that voice behind me, smooth and dark, making my heart race faster than I wanted it to.

"Little virgin."

The way he said it, it wasn't just a name—it was a taunt, dripping with amusement.

My pulse quickened, and I clenched my fists, trying to steady myself, trying to keep from showing him how much power he had over me. I forced myself to speak, my words dry and cutting.

"How come you aren't with that Soojin fool today? Did she dump you?"

I didn't even want to hear his answer, but it spilled out of me anyway. The jealousy, the anger—it was all bubbling beneath the surface, and he was the cause of it.

I hated how much I cared, how much I thought about him, how much he affected me.

He didn't seem fazed by my words. He smiled—a wicked, delightful smile that only made my chest tighten even more.

"Why do you worry so much?" He said, his voice soft and teasing like he was enjoying every second of this.

My heart pounded harder. I tried to keep my cool, to push him away even though I knew I couldn't. "Don't even mention it! What do you want me to care?" I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended.

He leaned back against the railing, giggling softly, but said nothing. Between us, there was this heavy, oppressive silence, like a thick, invisible wall separating us.

I glanced at him sideways, trying to act like I wasn't watching him like I wasn't waiting for his next move. But inside, I was screaming.

I would've given anything—anything—to know what was going through his mind. What was he thinking? What was he planning?

The silence dragged on, stretching between us, and it became unbearable. I could feel my heart racing, pounding in my chest so hard it hurt, and the longer he said nothing, the worse it got.

Please, just say something. Anything. Even an insult. Just talk so I don't feel this. The thought echoed in my mind, but I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. I didn't want him to know the effect he had on me.

But he knew. Of course, he knew.

He always did.

"Lisa, do you love me?"

The question came out of nowhere, knocking the breath from my lungs. I froze my whole body tensing as if the world had just shifted beneath my feet.

Slowly, I turned to him, but his gaze was fixed on the horizon. He wasn't even looking at me, and our eyes never met.

Part of me was grateful for that—I wasn't sure I could handle being swallowed by the intensity of his eyes at that moment.

But, God, how I wanted to. Never before had I felt such a desperate longing to sink into those eyes. To drown in them, to let go of everything and just... fall.

It was terrifying.

I didn't answer him. I couldn't. A simple yes or no would've sufficed. Just two words. Two small seconds of courage. But my voice refused to come.

It was trapped, strangled in my throat, and had suddenly become dry and tight.

The silence between us stretched thick and heavy until he spoke again.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice calm, as if he were offering me some kind of comfort. "As soon as our pact is concluded, I will return to Pandemonium, my palace city, and you will never see me again. I will order my subordinates to leave you alone. After you give me your virginity, the demon world will never seek you out again."

His words pierced through me like a cold blade. My chest tightened, and my lungs emptied. I gasped, but it felt like the air had been stolen from me. I tried to breathe, but nothing seemed to fill my lungs.

I should have felt relief. Any sane person would have. His promise meant freedom from this nightmare—no more demons, no more temptation, no more... him.

But instead of relief, all I felt was this hollow ache. His words echoed in my mind, but they didn't soothe me. They only made the void inside me grow wider, and darker.

After you give me your virginity...

It felt like he was sealing my fate, binding me to something I didn't understand, something far more terrifying than I'd ever imagined.

Yet, instead of fear, there was this twisted sense of loss. He would leave. After all of this, he'd disappear from my life as if none of it mattered.

And that's what scared me most of all.

The idea of him leaving should've been my salvation, but the thought of never seeing him again... of him returning to that dark world of his without looking back... it felt like a death sentence.

I should have felt at peace. But I didn't. I never had any peace when it came to him.

"Taehyung, I—" I tried to say, my voice finally breaking free from the tightness in my throat.

But before I could finish, a familiar voice cut through the air like a blade.

"Lisa!"

I turned, startled. Jimin stood at the door that led to the terrace stairs, his presence completely unexpected and jarring.

His eyes locked on me, but then shifted to Taehyung.

"I'm going," Taehyung said coolly, pushing off from the railing. He didn't even glance back as he moved toward the door, his tall figure brushing past Jimin's as he left.

The contrast between them was almost painful—Jimin's pristine uniform against the dark elegance of Taehyung's black silk shirt. It was like night and day, two worlds colliding in the briefest of touches.

I stood there, torn, my mind screaming at me. Once Jimin tells me he loves me... and I give my virginity to Taehyung... I'll never see him again. The thought pounded in my skull, suffocating me with its finality.

"Taehyung, wait a minute!" I called after him, my voice more desperate than I'd intended. I needed him to stop, to hear me, to stay—anything but this endless silence between us.

But before I could even take a step, I felt warmth behind me, a presence I hadn't expected. Jimin. His scent, sweet and familiar, filled my senses, making my heart race.

"No, don't go to him," he whispered into my ear, his arms wrapping around me from behind. His touch was gentle but firm, and the weight of his body pressing against mine sent my thoughts spiraling.

"Jimin, what? Why?" I asked, confusion and panic twisting inside me as I turned my head slightly to meet his gaze. What was he doing? Why now, of all times?

"Because I love you," he said, his voice soft but filled with conviction.

My heart skipped a beat, and it felt like the sky was crashing down around me. His words hit me with the force of a hurricane, and I could barely breathe under their weight.

Jimin—sweet, perfect Jimin was confessing his love to me while my heart was tangled in knots over Taehyung.

Everything was collapsing in on me. My feelings. My decisions. My fate. I stood there, trapped between Jimin's warmth and Taehyung's fading presence, and I didn't know what to do.

"Lisa, I just wanted to confess my feelings to you. You don't have to answer me now, but I would be very happy if these feelings were returned," Jimin said, his smile gentle and hopeful.

His smile had always been a source of comfort, like a rainbow appearing after a storm. But right then, as he said the very words I had longed to hear, I couldn't fully bask in the glow of his affection.

There was too much turmoil inside me—too much confusion and dread over what was happening with Taehyung.

I nodded, unable to speak, feeling a mix of relief and melancholy. Jimin's words were like a balm to my aching heart, but they were overshadowed by the storm brewing within me.

"See you," he said softly, pressing a sweet kiss to my cheek before slipping through the back door that led to the staircase.

For a fleeting moment, his comforting scent enveloped me like a protective barrier, a warm reminder of the feelings he had just confessed.

But as he disappeared from view, that warmth faded quickly, leaving me alone with my chaotic thoughts.

I pinched myself, trying to wake from this strange, disorienting dream. "Ouch! It's all true," I muttered, struggling to reconcile Jimin's declaration with the turmoil in my heart.

Jimin had always seemed like a distant dream—something beautiful and unattainable that I could admire from afar.

But now that he was right here, offering me what I had wanted, I felt an overwhelming sense of dread. I should have been overjoyed, yet I felt as though I was on the brink of collapse.

I closed my eyes, imagining his sweet smile, his warmth—a stark contrast to the cold and darkness I felt from Taehyung.

Yet, in my mind's eye, everything began to shift. Jimin's golden aura and warm presence blurred, transforming into something entirely else.

Suddenly his features morphed. His once-sweet smile turned into something more provocative. His eyes shifted to a deep cerulean, and his skin lost its warmth, becoming as pale and smooth as Carrara marble.

The contrast was harsh, and the warm, familiar sensation was replaced by an unsettling chill.

"Taehyung," I whispered to myself, feeling the weight of my thoughts. "In addition to my virginity, will you also take my heart away from me?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered. It was as if I were caught between two worlds—one warm and safe with Jimin, and one dark and consuming with Taehyung.

And no matter how much I wanted to embrace the former, the latter's grip on my heart was unrelenting, leaving me in this painful limbo of uncertainty.

"Congratulations, Lisa!" Suhyun's voice croaked in my ear as he suddenly materialized behind me.

His unexpected appearance made me jump, and his enthusiastic pat on the back was a little too hard for comfort.

"What? How did you get here? What are you doing in college, and you look like you're only ten years old?" I said, gently scolding him, though I couldn't help but be amused by his childlike appearance.

Despite knowing he was a demon, his large, expressive black eyes were oddly endearing. They seemed almost innocent, in stark contrast to his true nature.

"I am your guard. I have to follow and protect you. These are the master's orders," he replied with a casual shrug as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Congratulations on what?" I asked, still bewildered by his sudden presence and cryptic words.

"You managed to conquer Jimin!" Suhyun exclaimed, hopping up and down with excitement. "I knew those huge eyes of yours would melt the blonde's heart. I guess the spell worked!"

I stared at him in shock. "The spell? What are you talking about? I didn't use any spell on Jimin."

Suhyun waved his arms dramatically. "Oh, come on! That charm of yours, the way you make everyone fall for you. It's practically magic! I just didn't expect it to work so quickly on Jimin."

His words left me dumbfounded. I had no idea there was any sort of spell or charm involved, and the thought of it made me question everything even more.

The idea that Jimin's feelings might be influenced by something beyond his own free will was unsettling.

"So, you're saying that Jimin's feelings for me were... manipulated?" I asked, trying to process the implications.

Suhyun's face softened. "Not manipulated, just... influenced. Your natural charm and the spell's enhancement worked together. But don't worry; Jimin's feelings are real. The spell just helped nudge things along."

My mind raced as I tried to reconcile Suhyun's words with the reality of my situation. The idea of Jimin's feelings being influenced in any way troubled me.

I had hoped for his affection to be genuine, not tainted by any kind of external force.

As I stood there, grappling with the weight of Suhyun's revelation, the questions about my own heart and the choices I had to make grew even more complicated.

"Did you already know?" I asked absently, my mind still tangled in confusion. Then a sudden doubt flickered through me. "So does Taehyung know too?"

Suhyun's eyes widened with surprise, then he grinned widely. "Yeah!" he exclaimed, clearly pleased with the development.

But when he noticed that I wasn't sharing in his enthusiasm, his expression turned curious. "What's wrong, Lisa? Aren't you happy?"

I stared at him, struggling to reconcile his devilish demeanor with the seemingly cheerful attitude he displayed. And he's supposed to be a devil? I thought bitterly.

"Yeah, of course, I'm happy. It's just—" I trailed off, unable to complete the sentence as my emotions roiled inside me.

Suhyun's smile faltered slightly. "It's just that you're worried now because you'll have to do your part. But you don't have to worry; nowadays it doesn't matter if a girl is a virgin or not! Expert girls are more appreciated."

I shook my head, unable to fully explain what was bothering me. "It's not for this reason," I said softly, lowering my gaze so my light bangs covered the turmoil in my eyes. "I don't know how to explain it to you, but it's not about that."

Suhyun's eyes softened with concern as he watched me. "Then what is it, Lisa?"

I struggled to find the words; the chaos in my heart was too complex to articulate.

My feelings for Jimin, my troubled thoughts about Taehyung, and now the unsettling idea of manipulation were all colliding within me. I felt like I was standing at the edge of a precipice, unable to see the way forward or the ground below.

"I... I'm just trying to figure out what I truly want," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't expect any of this to be so complicated."

Suhyun's expression grew thoughtful. "Well, if you need time to sort things out, take it. But remember, no matter what you decide, you're not alone in this."

His words were somewhat reassuring, but they did little to ease the storm inside me. I nodded, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I could find some clarity amidst the confusion.

Suhyun fell silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Then he began, "Maybe it's because your feelings for Jimin weren't love but just infatuation. Perhaps you've confused admiration with love. True love is giving yourself completely—mind, heart, body, and soul."

He paused as if struck by a sudden realization. "Or maybe you've discovered that your heart is actually drawn to someone else."

His words hit me like a physical blow. I looked down at Suhyun, my chest aching as if someone had delivered a sharp kick.

"Did I hit the target?" Suhyun asked with a smile that was meant to be comforting but felt like a bittersweet consolation. "I'm sorry, Lisa, but you should know that it's too late now."

"Yes, I know," I murmured, the tears starting to flow uncontrollably down my cheeks. "You don't need to tell me. I understand that there's nothing I can do now. I... feel like I love Taehyung, but I can never tell him. He's not even human."

The tears created salty rivers down my cheeks, each drops a symbol of my helplessness. I rolled my eyes upwards and saw the sun setting, the sky turning a deep orange as night approached.

In less than an hour, darkness would blanket the heavens, like an immense dark cloak descending upon the world.

I stood there, feeling the weight of my emotions and the encroaching darkness around me. The setting sun mirrored the inner turmoil I felt—an end to the day, just as I felt an end to my clarity and direction.

The realization of my love for Taehyung, coupled with the impossibility of ever being with him, left me in a state of melancholy that seemed to grow with each passing moment.

I wondered what would happen. Would dawn return to lighten the darkness?

Would the moon shine bright enough, or would the darkness make it invisible? And would the sun triumph over the gloom tomorrow?

Without thinking, I hugged Suhyun tightly. "Today is the last day that we will be siblings," I said, ruffling his dark hair, which felt like soft feathers under my touch. "Goodbye. I was pleased to meet you."

Suhyun looked taken aback by my sudden show of affection. Before he could respond, I released him and hurried away.

I pushed open the back door and dashed down the stairs, my legs moving as fast as they would allow. "I fell in love with the devil, but he is more than just an unreachable person. He's not even of this world," I thought. "I have no choice but to forget. I can do it. I'll be fine. I'm going to be happy."

"I will have Jimin by my side," I reassured myself.

My legs carried me to the chapel, where I sought solace in the faith I once held dear.

The quiet, sacred space offered a moment of refuge as I grappled with the turbulent emotions inside me, hoping to find comfort and clarity amidst the lingering shadows.

My legs carried me into the chapel, perhaps in search of the comfort I once found in faith. From an early age, I was raised to believe in God.

My mother always said it was my father's wish—a man I barely remembered. He died when I was just three, taken by a brutal car accident.

I was in that car too. Surviving was supposed to be a blessing, but somehow, it had always felt like a curse.

There were so few pictures of him around the house. It was almost as if my mother wanted to forget him, to erase the memory of a man who had once been part of her world.

And as I grew older, I noticed more and more how little I resembled either of them. I didn't look like my mother, and there was nothing left of my father to compare myself to.

Every night, I would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to piece him together in my imagination. I'd give him details—a certain kind of smile, a favorite song, a laugh that echoed in empty hallways.

I invented quirks, habits, and things that would make me feel closer to him. But there was nothing. No trace of him in me except the painful reminder of the accident. What legacy had he left me?

The only one that came to mind was the one I was about to trample on. By giving myself to a being I had always been taught to fear, the devil himself, I was turning my back on everything I was raised to believe.

The one who always gives you what you want, only to make you wish you never wanted it in the first place.

I am Lisa—the girl who gave her heart to the devil. A being I can never truly call mine. Yet, I crave him more than anything in this world, more than the air I breathe. He consumes me.

They were right, weren't they? The old proverbs. When you make a deal with the devil, you always pay more than you thought you would.

The weight of that thought pressed against my chest as I stood in the chapel, surrounded by silence. I was drowning in my own sadness, my guilt clawing at me like a feral beast.

Slowly, my gaze lifted to the center of the chapel, where Christ hung on the cross.

I looked at Him—His suffering was so tangible, it seemed almost alive. His hands pierced through with nails. His side was torn open. His feet were held in place by the iron of cruelty.

His head had fallen to one side, a crown of thorns biting into his skin, blood trickling down. The image of sacrifice and redemption.

Everything I had once believed in was encapsulated in that broken figure, and yet I stood here, preparing to betray it all.

"What am I doing?" I whispered to myself, the sound echoing faintly in the still air of the chapel. My heart pounded in my chest, the guilt like a heavy chain wrapped around my soul. "Am I lost?"

I stepped closer, drawn to the cross, and before I realized it, I was kneeling at the altar, my eyes fixed on Christ's wounded face.

"I don't know what to do," I confessed, my voice trembling. "I've given myself to someone I can never have. I've made choices that no one can forgive. But... I can't let go. He owns me now."

Tears welled in my eyes, but I didn't wipe them away. They streamed down my face, hot and relentless, as if they could cleanse the sin that weighed so heavily on me.

"Please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "If there's anything left for me—any part of me that can still be saved—show me. Because I don't know how to save myself anymore."

But all that answered me was the stillness of the chapel and the cold, heavy silence that settled over my heart.

My heart squeezed, not only with fear but with an unexpected tenderness, and I began to pray. My lips moved, forming words I hadn't spoken in years.

I didn't know how long I knelt there on the cold bench or how long I let my whispered prayers fill the silence of the chapel.

Time seemed to slip away, the minutes bleeding into each other until the weight in my knees forced me to check the time. It was late, far too late.

My mother was probably pacing, wondering where I was, worrying in the way only a mother could.

I struggled to stand, my legs stiff from the hours spent kneeling. My joints ached as I straightened, but just as I turned toward the door, it swung open with a creak.

The night sky outside was pitch black, the darkness swallowing the chapel's light.

And standing in the doorway, bathed in the shadow of the night, was Taehyung.

The moment I saw him, the weight of everything I had done came crashing down on me. It was then that I fully understood the meaning of the phrase "black magic always returns to its source." You always get what you give.

I had played with something beyond my understanding that made someone fall for me when my heart already belonged elsewhere. Now, I was caught in my own trap.

He crossed the central nave with deliberate steps, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the hollow, sacred space, reverberating all the way up to the frescoed vaults of the ceiling.

The sound felt heavier than it should, each step a countdown, a reminder of the path I had chosen.

"I have come to take my due," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

The chapel door closed behind him with a finality that made my heart race. There was no way out. No escape.

But the terrifying truth was that I didn't want one. I was exactly where I had always longed to be—caught in the presence of the very creature I couldn't have but desired more than anything.

This was the last night. The last time I would ever see him.

With that thought, I stepped toward him, feeling the pull of his gaze before I even dared to meet his eyes. When I did, I felt my soul unravel.

His eyes—those dark, endless pools—tore through me, stripping away any pretense of control.

I was drowning in them, swallowed whole by their intensity, and for a few stolen moments, I let myself drift, lost in the merciless seas of his gaze.

I knew what was coming. I knew this would be the end. But as I moved closer, letting the pull of him guide me, I realized there was no room for regret. I had already made my choice long before this moment.

All that mattered now was that I was here with him, even if only for this fleeting, cursed night.

"Then take it," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the silence that hung between us. I could feel the weight of those words, the surrender in them. "Take all of me," I said in my heart.

Because I knew, deep down, that he already had.

Without realizing it, I was once again gripped by the force of his arms. His soft lips found mine, their touch igniting a familiar spark deep within me.

I felt his warmth seep into my body, his energy feeding mine until I was no longer sure where he ended and I began.

The cold, unforgiving surface of the marble chapel pressed against my back, a sharp contrast to the heat that burned where our bodies met.

I was caught between two extremes—his fire and the chapel's chill—and somewhere in the middle, I was losing myself.

I realized I was trapped. His legs pinned me in place, his hands holding my fragile wrists with a strength that made it impossible to escape.

His grip was like steel, unyielding, and yet the touch of his fingers as they glided down my body was smooth, almost tender.

They traced over my hips, leaving invisible marks, before moving to the buttons of my white blouse. One by one, they gave way beneath his fingers.

I caught the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he leaned closer, his mouth hovering near my chest. He seemed to relish the sound of my heartbeat, the erratic rhythm betraying both my fear and my longing.

And then, just as I thought I would lose myself entirely, he pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead, as if to reassure me.

"Why are you so sweet tonight?" He whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down my spine. "It will only make this harder."

Desperation flared inside me. I reached out, grabbing the sleeve of his black shirt, trying to stop him. His hands were inching lower, toward places that would shatter the last of my defenses.

"Please..." I whispered, my voice breaking under the weight of my own plea. "Please, Taehyung... promise me that after we make love, you'll erase all my memories of you. Take them away... sweep them away... please."

For a moment, his face was inches from mine, his dark eyes piercing into my soul, searching. He lingered there, the weight of my request hanging in the air between us, heavy and unbearable.

Then he spoke, his voice soft but unyielding. "No..." His fingers brushed over my leg as he leaned down to kiss my lips, slowly trailing down my chin to my neck.

His mouth dipped lower, and I felt his teeth graze the pulse point where my life throbbed most strongly. He bit down, hard enough to make me gasp, stealing my breath.

"I won't let you forget," he murmured against my skin. "Every time another man touches you, you will remember tonight. Even if you make love to a thousand men, each one will remind you of me. My mark won't just be on your skin—it will live in your memory forever."

At his words, the ground seemed to shift beneath me, as though the earth itself trembled in response to the cruel promise he had made.

And then I heard it—my own heart breaking.

The sound was deafening in the silence of the chapel, and with it, I knew that he had claimed more than my body. He had taken something far deeper.

There would be no forgetting him. He would haunt me, always.

At Taehyung's words, the earth seemed to tremble beneath me, as if the weight of his promise shook the very foundation of the world.

My heart shattered in my chest, and I could feel the pieces slipping through me like grains of sand.

Desperate tears spilled down my cheeks, bright and unrelenting, like tiny pearls reflecting the dim light of the chapel.

I realized then the enormity of the torture that awaited me—an eternal agony that no man could ever undo. I would live forever with the memory of him, of his mouth, of his touch.

"You can cry even the sea, Lisa," he said, his voice laced with cruel certainty as his lips grazed the softness of my breasts. "Your tears will not stop me."

Panic clawed at my throat. No, I thought. I cannot accept this. I will die if I can't have him if this is all I get.

"Taehyung," I whispered my voice barely a breath, filled with a hopeless plea. "After you have me... will I never see you again?"

For the first time, his eyes snapped up to meet mine, glowing an unnatural blue that seemed to shimmer in the dim light.

I saw something flicker there—disbelief, uncertainty. His powerful, unwavering aura faltered just for a second, and his voice, which had always been so sure, wavered.

"What... what did you say?" He asked, the words trembling as if he couldn't believe what he'd heard.

I opened my mouth, feeling the weight of everything I had been holding back—the desperate, terrifying truth of my heart pushing to the surface. I was about to tell him that I loved him.

That despite the darkness, despite the fear, I had given him not just my body but my soul. But just as the words began to form, a powerful knock shattered the stillness of the chapel.

"Lisa! Open the door!" A voice commanded, sharp and urgent, breaking through the haze of the moment.

I recognized that voice instantly—Jimin.

Taehyung's entire demeanor changed. He stood up abruptly, freeing me from his grasp, but his eyes burned with such fury that I felt almost annihilated under their gaze.

His anger surged like a tempest, swirling around him, powerful and consuming.

Another knock, more forceful this time. Then, the door of the chapel swung open with a crash, revealing the slim, shadowed figure of Jimin standing in the doorway.

His expression was dark, his presence menacing in a way I had never seen before.

At that moment, everything felt suspended—the clash of two worlds was about to unfold before me, and I was caught between them, torn by the emotions raging inside me.

I could feel the tension in the air thickening, the impending confrontation palpable.

Jimin's golden gaze flickered between Taehyung and me, his shock evident but not entirely unexpected.

His voice boomed through the chapel, stern and commanding, "Taehyung, what have you done to her? This is a sacred place, and you two are brothers!"

Taehyung let out a theatrical snort as if utterly bored by the notion of sacredness or family ties. His eyes, once so hauntingly beautiful, turned a terrifying crimson, a smile twisting his lips into something cruel and malicious.

"Let's stop with this fucking respectability," he spat, waving a hand dismissively. "I don't care if we're brother and sister."

Then, as if a switch had flipped, Taehyung's expression hardened. His eyes narrowed, and the terrifying power behind them surfaced fully.

His voice dropped to something that no longer resembled anything human.

"The only thing I care about is that you're bothering me," he hissed.

With a sudden gesture, Taehyung's hand extended toward Jimin, and before I could comprehend what was happening, Jimin's body lifted violently off the ground, flung three meters into the air, and slammed against the stone wall with a sickening thud.

I stood frozen in place, my mind unable to process the horror of what I had just witnessed. My voice cracked in shock. "He killed him!"

Taehyung's grin widened, but his tone was almost mocking. "How tragic. If I had wanted to kill him, I would've done it a long time ago. He's just passed out."

He moved toward me, his voice softening, dripping with the sweetness of intimate enchantment. His hand reached for my face, cradling it gently.

His lips brushed against my ear, and this time, instead of fear, I felt an odd sense of peace. The crimson in his eyes didn't terrorize me anymore; it mesmerized me.

"Lisa, if you wish it, I—"

Before he could finish, a deep groan of pain cut through the air. I recoiled in horror as I saw the golden hilt of a sword protruding from Taehyung's abdomen.

Rivers of dark, blackened blood poured from the wound, and the one who wielded the sword was none other than Jimin.

"Go back to hell, Devil," Jimin said, his voice cold and fearless, as he drove the blade further into Taehyung's body.

"No! Taehyung!" I screamed, grabbing Jimin's arm, and trying to push him away. "What have you done?!"

My heart felt like it had been torn apart as if the very foundation of my soul had been ripped from within me. I could barely breathe, my mind swirling in a hurricane of confusion and despair.

Jimin turned toward me, his voice devoid of color or warmth. "Don't worry, Lisa. Unfortunately, Devil won't die so easily."

His words were filled with venom as he glared at Taehyung, his gaze challenging. "What's wrong, Devil? Are your powers so weak that you can't regenerate yourself?"

Taehyung, seemingly unfazed, rose to his feet. He touched the blood that stained his shirt, spreading it across his white fingers as if it were nothing more than water.

A dark, malevolent laugh erupted from him, echoing through the chapel like a curse from ancient times.

"That's why your aura disgusted me from the beginning," Taehyung said, his voice a low growl as he licked the blood from his hand like a predatory beast. "You've been a traitor from the start, haven't you, brother?"

With a fluid motion, Taehyung pulled the sword from his flesh, and as the blade left his body, two immense black wings erupted from his back.

Shadows coiled around him like a living entity, and long, menacing goat horns crowned his head. His dark hair cascaded like liquid midnight, and his form grew larger, more terrifying—a true embodiment of darkness.

"Son of a bitch," Taehyung growled. "You've been spying on me all this time!"

As the sword flew through the air, time seemed to halt. The blade gleamed as it arced with deadly precision, embedding itself in the wall mere centimeters from Jimin's temple.

The force of its impact sent a shudder through the entire chapel, dislodging dust from the stone walls, which settled in the air like frozen snowflakes.

My breath hitched, and my pulse pounded in my ears. Taehyung's eyes, dark and simmering with an unholy rage, met Jimin's with a fury that felt otherworldly.

"But tell me," Taehyung sneered, his voice a low, venomous drawl, "why would the Archangel Jimin bother to descend to earth?"

Jimin stood unmoved, his face carved in stone, untouched by even a hint of fear. There was a cold, enduring calm in his gaze as he watched Taehyung with the patience of ages.

Then, slowly, a change began to ripple through him. His mortal form gave way, his body shifting and growing, becoming something beyond comprehension.

My heart stumbled as I watched his transformation unfold before my disbelieving eyes.

Jimin's blond hair grew longer, turning into radiant threads of gold that cascaded over his shoulders, each strand glinting with an ethereal light that filled the darkened chapel with a blinding glow.

His eyes—once human, though already extraordinary—shifted to an intense, almost overwhelming shade of gold, like molten sunlight.

They blazed with wisdom and serenity that transcended any earthly understanding, seeming to hold all the secrets of creation itself.

And then, from his back, two immense white wings unfurled, so bright and pure they seemed to shine with their own inner light.

Each feather gleamed, as if woven from strands of starlight, shimmering in a way that felt both comforting and utterly overwhelming.

His skin glowed, taking on a luminescent quality that rendered him almost insubstantial, like a figure carved from pure light.

His features sharpened; every line and curve now refined into a perfection so otherworldly that it was both beautiful and terrifying.

The symmetry, the sheer perfection of his face, echoed that of Taehyung in his own supernatural form.

My gaze flicked to Taehyung, who was now no longer human. In place of the man I had known stood a being with darkened, shadowed skin and eyes that blazed a fierce, blood-red, as if they held the very fires of hell.

His hair, once a mere dark wave, now swept down in black cascades, framing a face as chilling as it was mesmerizing.

The horns—sharp, wickedly curved—jutted from his head, and faint embers crackled at the edges of his skin, as though he were formed of fire itself.

Sharp, shadowy wings stretched out from his back, their dark edges tinged with an infernal glow, mirroring Jimin's pure white wings but holding an ominous, suffocating power.

I felt my knees weaken as I stood between them, caught in the suffocating gravity of their otherworldly forms.

The air itself seemed to tremble, as if unable to bear the combined force of their presence—one radiating divine purity, the other radiating dark, intense power.

Each breath I took felt labored as if my mortal lungs were struggling to process the weight of their existence.

A soft, radiant hum pulsed from Jimin's wings, filling the chapel with a sense of peace so profound it was almost painful.

It washed over me, calm and pure, yet pierced through my heart with a feeling of unattainable divinity. His gaze remained locked on Taehyung, unwavering, holding within it the promise of justice and judgment.

"I am here," Jimin finally spoke, his voice carrying a resonance that echoed within the deepest corners of my soul, "to restore balance. You have brought darkness to the world, Taehyung. But I cannot allow you to tip the scales." His tone was filled with sadness, as though he bore the weight of an unending sorrow for what had to be done.

Taehyung's eyes narrowed, and a dark, humorless smile played on his lips. "Balance?" he echoed mockingly. "Since when did angels understand the meaning of balance? You, who claim purity, yet wield it as a weapon. Tell me, Jimin," his voice dripped with a venomous irony, "is your 'light' so fragile that it cannot bear the existence of shadow?"

The tension between them thickened, and I felt the weight of a truth that was ancient, eternal—an endless clash between light and darkness, bound by forces far beyond my comprehension.

Standing between them felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, caught between the radiance of heaven and the scorching fires of hell.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a reminder of my fragile mortality in the face of these beings, which seemed carved from the very fabric of creation.

Jimin's light reached toward me, enveloping me in its warmth, while Taehyung's dark power wrapped around the air itself, as though to blot out all traces of the divine.

And there I was, suspended between them, feeling the pull of both forces—the peace of Jimin's divinity and the raw, unbridled allure of Taehyung's dark power.

As they faced each other, their forms both mirrors and opposites, I realized that this wasn't just a confrontation between two beings.

It was a clash of worlds, of ideals, of fates. And I was the thread caught in the balance, a fragile mortal forced to witness the danger and beauty of their ancient enmity.

At that moment, I knew: nothing would ever be the same. The line between heaven and hell, light and darkness, was blurred.

And as I stood there, I realized that my own fate was now intertwined with theirs, teetering on the edge of destruction yet holding onto a sliver of hope that one day, peace might prevail.