Demons have crawled out of Hells Below, an underground city where they had lived for many centuries, lost and forgotten, and have come to the surface, seizing control of the entire planet in a nearly bloodless but tough and drawn-out war. But it isn't all bad; in fact, crime rates are down, violence has vanished from the conquered cities and the laws are fair. Not only this but it has been proved that demons are highly compatible with humans, to a point where they have one who is their 'destined'; a soulmate.
Luhan, a demon, meets Sehun at the bakery where the human works and instantly knows its him, but Sehun is confused, frightened and unsure about the whole incident, even if he did feel something. Inter-species relationships are the norm, but yet Sehan is hesitant, and Luhan still has the darker side of his nature to contend with, despite the fundamental good in all his kind.
Don't get too close They say it's what you make
It's dark inside
It's where my demons hide
It's where my demons hide
I say it's up to fate
It's woven in my soul
-Demons by Imagine Dragons
The year is 2035.
In an alternate universe, a parallel land full of magic and the supernatural, a bitter war with demon kind comes to a close, leaving the aftershocks to resonate throughout the world. Humans in China, Britain, Russia and the United Republic of Americanada form rebel groups and continue to fight, unsuccessfully, against the overarching rule of demons, while other countries had either given in to their rise to power early on, or now live in reasonable harmony after defeat, the laws that rule them just and fair. In Germany and France, where many armies congregated to battle, citizens begin to restore the battered and bruised countryside.
But all of their dead have already been buried, for there were few mortal casualties, the demons careful only to wound when necessary and kill on occasion, because they sense the connection between themselves and their mate and understand the pain that would insue if that bond was severed, so they loathe to cause that to another.
Korea, like many other countries, flew under the radar during the war, and is home to many demons; demons who are above the residing humans, though the rift in status between the two is hardly noticable. Here Luhan lives, at peace with the mortals and the knowledge that he has yet to encounter this mate, not even once, despite the fact that he was drawn to Korea in the beginning, and formerly was a patrol officer, travelling across the country.
I want to hide the truth
I want to shelter you
But with the beast inside
There's nowhere we can hide
Two figures walk up the hilled street, bumping shoulders companionably with pleasant banter tossed between them; the blonde, with curly hair and the neatly flicked fringe going by the name of Luhan and the other, the short haired brunet, with his constantly pleased expression being called Xiumin, both having an aura of demonic presence surrounding them. Another gust of cold winter wind brushes past them, their laughter catching the breeze, and they tug their scarfs tighter around their necks and their sleeves further down their arms, breath forming ghostly clouds in the frigid air. Houses and apartments mostly line the road they travel, but the pair reach a small establishment, empty wire tables and chairs scattered across the lawn and onto the veranda, bare trees towering above them, though the house turned bakery appears inviting enough, with a rich golden-red light glowing through the windows, like a flickering fire in the hearth, and by gods if that didn't sound perfect. The demons turn and stroll down the garden path, Luhan's hands stuffed into his jacket pockets while Xiumin rubs his together and blows hot air onto the chilled fingers, and it is jokingly suggested that they hold hands to warm up, which is followed by deep, humorous laughter. Their boots crunch fading autumn leaves underfoot before meeting stairs and the wood of the porch, the chime of a bell sounding as Xiumin swings open the door.
A hush falls across Luhan and Xiumin as they enter the small but cosy bakery, their friendly teasing ceasing and the last of their laughs trailing off as the smell of cinnamon, butter and fresh bread overtakes their senses. They stand in the doorway for several stretched out moments, coiled by the comely smell and sense of home and warmth. The chatter of the regular customers' cuts through their haze and Luhan quickly leads them to a vacant table off to the side, away from the hustle and bustle and idle gossip of others. They happily toss a coin to decide who would be paying this time for lunch, Luhan coming up short and, with Xiumin's order in mind, trudges over to the counter in a mock sulk. Tugging his wallet from his jean pockets, Luhan begins rattling off their lunch choices, flat mochaccino, ham and cheese croissant...and getting hold of a few notes, looks up to the server and stops right in his tracks, words cutting off mid-sentence, the rest unsaid and temporarily forgotten.
His heart catches in his throat and Luhan openly stares because standing before him is all he's ever wanted but has always been denied; with his chocolate brown eyes, large and innocent, dark brown hair and young face, there is Luhan's destined, the other half of his soul and the most gorgeous human he has ever and will ever see. He is perfect, and Luhan can't look away, won't look away, because he is over come with an intense desire, a want, a physical need, and it spreads throughout every fibre of his being. The longer he stares, the faster his pulse becomes, the more he wishes to hold this man flush against his body, even now, with onlookers, because how can the demon not? The connection is there; strong, insistent, demanding to be felt, and above all unlike anything Luhan has experienced before. It wills him closer and Luhan is sure the human feels it also, as his russet eyes widen (in surprise? Recognition?), though Luhan quickly realizes it is because of his constant and likely unsettling staring. Mildly startled by that thought, he figures he must appear ridiculous or at least awkwardly amazed to the other. And his heart plummets.
The server (Sehun, Luhan guesses from the name tag) nervously fidgets underneath his penetrating gaze. "Sir?" He asks, with a voice like fresh honey, eyebrows raised in question and pen poised at the ready to scribble down the remainder of the food order, if Luhan ever decides to open his mouth and freely give it. "Um, right, yeah...I'll take a coke and a chocolate Danish, thanks," He hurriedly finishes and hands over the correct amount of money, collecting the cold coke as it is passed over the counter. Luhan accepts the change without another word, ignoring the jolt of electricity that ripples through his very veins as Sehun's fingers briefly brush his, and ignoring the way his skin tingles with the memory. A quick 'thank you' is given before Luhan is rushing back to his table as fast as is social acceptable, practically buzzing with...what? Excitement? Undeniable attraction? The bitter-sweet pangs of rejection? (A little dramatic, he'll agree)
Perhaps it is none of those at all, or maybe all of them at once; a dreadfully amazing concoction of emotions. He didn't know nor did he want to linger on the thought long enough to find out.
Luhan twists through the seemingly unending maze of tables and customers and distractedly slides into the chair opposite Xiumin, who had begun occupying himself by tapping out rhythms on the vintage wooden table. "Take your sweet time," The brunet jokes light-heartedly when noticing him return, clearly not sensing anything amiss, at least not yet.
"Sorry, there was...a long line," Luhan murmurs, placing the can on the table and diverting his attention to the drops of cold condensation dripping slowly down its smooth metal sides, apparently mesmerized by the tiny rivulets.
"Didn't look like it from here," Xiumin comments, appearing mildly confused with an eyebrow quirked.
"Slow service," Luhan says simply, not bothering to look up at his friend as he fingers the water droplets and dismisses his suspicions.
The other glances over to the counter, "But everyone who was behind you has already been served?" Xiumin continues, a questioning lilt to his words, the demon puzzled and a little intrigued at Luhan's response and the complete change in his demeanour. "Just leave it, okay?" Luhan swiftly puts an end to Xiumin's insistence, drawing his attention away from the coke and running a hand coarsely through his pale hair.
"Uh, sorry man I didn't mean anything by it," Xiumin apologized, slumping back in his chair now that Luhan's attitude had become glaringly apparent to him. He didn't push the matter any further, knowing full well how temperamental demons could be at times, Luhan especially, and is dropped and forgotten entirely when Xiumin's coffee is brought to the table, along with their baked pastries, and forced smiles breach their faces.
After they've eaten, Luhan reluctantly leaves; unwilling even though Sehun had miraculously squirreled himself out of sight for most of his lunch outing. He walks with Xiumin to his apartment complex, his mood considerably lightening and his friend appears thankful for it, but definitely not surprised by it. The trip is short, the conversation light, both easily slotting back into their comfortable routine, and before long Luhan parts Xiumin at his door, smiling pleasantly with a brief goodbye and humble 'thanks for lunch', a friendly high-five turned handshake tossed into the mix for good measure.
And if Xiumin held any qualms over Luhan's sudden mood swing, he refuses to voice it before he disappears into the soft comforts of his two bedroom apartment, leaving Luhan to feel extremely grateful and relieved on the other side of the closed entryway.
Luhan stands on the front terrace of the bakery, unmoving, hesitant, his hand hovering over the doorknob, shaking with a nearly imperceivable tremor. The midday crowd has dissipated, the stragglers all but gone, and Luhan will argue that he hadn't intended to end up back there at all, but even he can admit that somewhere, in the deep recess of his mind, he really had meant to, at least on some subconscious level. He grips the knob, twists until the faint click and pulls the door open, slowly and cautiously, the copper bell tinkling from its fixed place above him. Warned of his arrival, an employee Luhan doesn't recognize from earlier glances up from their sweeping duties in the corner, but promptly dismisses him, continuing to brush dust from the floorboards. They aren't closed, only preparing for shut down, and wouldn't turn away a paying customer.
Luhan takes a small step across the threshold, leather boots creaking the ancient wooden floors, the door shutting with a muted thunk. Movement and organised rattling echoes from behind one of the near empty bread trolleys and Luhan distractedly turns towards it, seeing Sehun step out from the side, aware of the potential purchase and added company.
But the welcome is far from the one the demon had anticipated, and miles from one he would openly accept, with the human scurrying into the store room upon recognising Luhan from their previous encounter, not bothering with subtly.
He falters at first, unsure of how to react, his head muddled and not allowed time to contemplate his next move. "Hey...Hey! Wait!" Luhan calls after him, bounding across the space, forcefully shoving chairs from the course of his path before rashly ducking behind the counter and darting into the backroom. He's bigger, if only marginally, he's stronger, taller and far quicker, and Sehan makes the mistake of limiting himself to a room with four solid walls and the only exit blocked by a superior Luhan, effectively leaving the human cornered and trapped. Sehan did see Luhan as a threat, only as a man striving to make him as uncomfortable as possible, but he notices the distinctly wild look in the demon's dark, dark eyes and suddenly regrets his decision to run, marking himself as prey to be caught and devoured. Sehan retreats and cowers in the furtherest crevice, the dark found there masking most of his delicate features, yet his wide chocolates eyes stare right out to Luhan as he shuffles ever closer. Imposing on Sehan's personal space, Luhan roughly grasps his scrawny wrists, as fragile as twigs in his hands, and roughly crowds him against the wall, his fingernails biting red half-moon crescents into Sehan's luminescent skin. And Sehan fights against his aggressive hold, but to no avail.
"Did you feel it?" Luhan whispers, his voice deep and ominous and ordering in its quiet. Sehan seems momentarily confused, flickering between horribly frightened and bewildered. "Did I feel...? Did I feel what?" He asks, timidly, barely there at all, and the innocence of it is utterly lost on the demon.
"Did you feel it? The bond," Luhan hisses, grip tightening painfully as he almost slams Sehan into the wall, his handsome features twisting awfully in his misplaced determination, the shadows of the storeroom defiling any good intentions. It is a look swiftly replaced with shock as Luhan is violently thrown off of Sehan smaller frame and, like a rag doll that he mostly certainly isn't, tossed harshly to the cold, hard ground by two employees, who loom menacingly over the demon, as powerful as he doesn't feel in that moment.