Her mouth was painted red.

Hotaru was not one to paint her face or put her hair into fancy, elaborate styles. Working in such a district often led to her being mistaken as a geisha and she would rather not provide them with an excuse to confuse her identity.

It was probably one of the girls from the business sector, the ones she called friends. She would often go to hang out with them when work was slow. Learn a thing or two, hear a few stories – some beautiful and the rest of them sad or frightening to the core. The girls loved her, specially the young ones.

Being locked up in a house in a remote area for most of her life , Hotaru was ignorant of many things and the girls who had grown up in the bustling city of Joseon had many things to teach her. And sometimes when they were bored, they would do her hair and paint her face.

Like today.

Today her lips were painted a brilliant shade of red , like the liquid color of the setting sun spilled over the horizon. And Dong-mae thought it suited her.

Hotaru was a beautiful girl despite not having the traditional looks appreciated at her birthplace. Her skin was light, dark hair and she had fire in her eyes. Not many had the courage to stab him with a sword, she had done so with a hair pin. He laughed at the memory.

The sound of his sudden laughter startled Hotaru. There was something off about him today. He had casually walked in like he always did, muttering something about forgetting to run her errand again. She was prepared to tell him off when he abruptly stopped , his gaze fixated on her mouth.

Was there something on her mouth?

She hurriedly raised her hand to wipe it off and he moved , catching her wrist in his large hand.

His grip was firm, warmth seeping from his palm all the way down to her bones. His eyes were still locked on her lips, hand held in his grasp between their bodies.

They stayed like that for a while and the sun shifted in the sky, casting the room in a darker shade. The wind blew through the open window, rustling his clothes and hers.

Dong-mae stepped closer, cupping her chin between the thumb and fingers of his other hand, angling her head to get a better view. Instinctively, Hotaru placed her palm on his chest to hold him back.

Red.

Red like the blood flowing from the animals they had killed in his childhood to earn a living. Butcher's son they called him.

Red like the blood spurting from the wounds he had inflicted on the people who punished him for being the butcher's son.

Red like the flowers Hotaru's suitors would sometimes dare to leave on her doorsteps.

Red like the silk of her skirt.

Absentmindedly he ran his thumb across her lips, her mouth parting open in response and his eyes darkened.

Soft and smooth – he could still remember the fleetingbrush of the expensive silk against his knuckles vividly. He had replayed that scene over and over again in his mind in the dark of the night till his body was as restless as his chaotic mind.

Hotaru's breath was warm against his touch yet he could only feel the coolness of the red silk caught between his fingers. He rubbed his thumb over her lips again, smearing the red across her mouth.

The wind blew again, fierce this time, scattering the papers and brushes kept on Hotaru's writing table. A familiar face flashed in front of him , her voice resonating in his ears before his eyes fell close and he closed the gap between them.

"What are you doing?"

Her lips were soft, warm and he pressed closer, searching for more. Heat radiated from his body and she felt his heart beat strongly under her palm. He released the arm he was holding and used his hand to undo her hair.

The long, inky strands slipped between his fingers like the fine silk in his memories and he was lost.

Hotaru was still frozen from the suddenness of his physical affection but Dong-mae was insistent, kissing and shaping her mouth with his. He grazed her lower lip with his teeth and she trembled, her fingers clutching onto him like a lifeline.

His hand fell to her waist, bringing her into his hold . The hand in her hair tightened reflexly as he brushed his tongue against hers. She gasped and he took this opportunity to kiss her deeper, tongue exploring the insides of her mouth.

His kissed her like he was starved, mouth warm, wide , opening and closing in sync. Hotaru had lost the strength in her legs long ago, the arm around her tiny waist keeping her erect. She was pressed so close against him, she could feel his muscles flexing under his clothes. It scared and excited her at the same time.

She gasped at the sudden pull in her hair as her head was tilted back, exposing her neck and he trailed a series of wet, open mouth kissed down to her collar bone. Biting sharply where her neck met her shoulder, he left a mark and kissed his way back to her mouth.

He paused for a moment, breathing heavily, fingers digging into her skin. His eyes were still focused on her mouth, now plump and swollen, the red smeared all the way down to her chin.

"Agasshi."

His hoarse whisper dissipated into the night air as he pulled her down to the floor with him, peppering her with desperate kisses.

Hotaru's entire world shattered at the name, body growing stiff as her back touched the cold floor. She felt her obi give away under his fingers, the silk of her kimono slipping off her shoulders , leaving her bare to the night air and him.

A lone tear escaped her eyes before she stilled herself, raised her arms and accepted him into her embrace.

Outside the clouds shifted, blocking the last rays of light, two broken hearts merged into one hidden under its shadow.