Seonghwa's legs were heavy on his way up the mountain, much heavier than they had been while he dragged them through the knee-deep snow. His head was heavy from the thoughts plaguing him and the tiredness that wore on his heavy lids.

But his heart was heaviest. It rested inside his chest like a rock, misshapen and cold. No more charm winged it with delight. The warmth of the past days evaporated like hot steam and all that was left was the ugly bitterness of betrayal.

Seonghwa locked away all the lingering affection he might have stored for Hongjoong. Protected his vulnerable heart from any more attacks.

A squirrel dashed over the path before him and scaled a tree. Its quick feet were so witty and sharp to its surroundings. Innocent life so near the beast's lair. Had everyone else noticed something was off and left in time? Was Seonghwa the only fool?

Feeling weighed by invisible iron chains around his ankles, Seonghwa squeezed through the cave entrance. Though the hideout in the mountain locked out the wind during winter, the spring breeze also couldn't permeate the frosty walls. Cast in an eternal frigid purple hue, the cave welcomed him. This place of such joy had become so sinister to Seonghwa. Bleak eyes looked out over the hall once he entered it. Found Hongjoong at his table with his bone staff in his hand, looking like a heathenish statue again.

Perhaps Seonghwa hadn't been so wrong from the beginning. But he fought his gut feeling to befriend the being that meant the downfall of his home.

"You're back," Hongjoong greeted him without looking up. He had his book before him and his cauldrons boiled away with ominous gargles, which somehow always distinctively sounded like a drowning person.

How was Seonghwa so blind? To the shadows, to the odd items across the table and Hongjoong's getup? Everything around him screamed the truth and Seonghwa was disappointed in himself for wilfully ignoring it.

Seonghwa's hands trembled. The spirits danced around him to greet him. Some had become friendly, fond of him since he helped their master. Some were still full of mischief, tugging on Seonghwa's hair when he wasn't looking. He was no longer afraid of them, but looking at them became so haunting now. He had always known what they were. Hongjoong was candid about them even when he might have given himself away. Of course, the dead crowded around him. He was the one who kept them alive.

"How are you doing today?" Seonghwa asked, absent-mindedly. He put his bundle on the ground, only having brought it so he could bring back some items from this place to pay Jongho for his help. Perhaps a book or two. Seonghwa might keep one to practice his reading. Even when the scent of the old parchment would always inevitably bring his mind back to Hongjoong.

"I already started with the potion. You could have stayed home to rest for another day. How are you feeling?"

The soft care in Hongjoong's voice stung. He worried about the sting in Seonghwa's hips but didn't know of his change of heart. When he turned his head to study Seonghwa's pale features, he pursed his lips.

A pale hand stretched in his direction. Seonghwa wanted to flinch back from it. Couldn't regard it as anything else but a tool for murder.

But he submitted to his ploy and leaned into Hongjoong's touch to his cheek. A deep exhale.

"You look pale. Go lie down. I can do this alone," Hongjoong whispered. No emotion ever touched upon his voice. He made it smoother and sharper, louder and quieter, but there was never such a thing as joy or anger. Even when he realised the mice had nibbled on their freshly bundled plants, he merely commented to do it again.

He was so cold. Inside and out. Everything he had done was a lie. He didn't love Seonghwa. In whatever capacity he confessed a liking to him, it was impossible for a ruthless person like him.

How could he claim to care for Seonghwa while hurting his people and his home? How could he mingle with the living when he lived in the world of the dead?

But Seonghwa was partly at fault. He approached Hongjoong and never questioned his work. Now that it was splayed out before him and Yunho grinned at him with that knowing smirk under devilish horns, Seonghwa gave it up.

He stepped to Hongjoong's side, accepting his loose embrace. Hongjoong kissed his forehead, hand slowing over his potion so he could put his staff aside and brush Seonghwa's hair from his haunted eyes.

Seonghwa didn't need to see his eyes to know he would read everything right off his face. So he quickly glanced away. Ducking into Hongjoong's shoulder to lean his head into him, Seonghwa gathered himself. This was no longer a safe place. Hongjoong's touch no longer brought security. Though he held Seonghwa gently and muttered about brewing him something to improve his health, Seonghwa didn't want any of that. Not his touch and not his poisonous potions. Everything Hongjoong came in contact with died.

Seonghwa would put an end to it.

"Can you hold me again? Like you did last time?" He whispered against Hongjoong's cold skin. Peered up at him from below to beg.

Hongjoong had been so close to him then. So vulnerable. No spirits had watched over them and all spells came to a standstill.

It was the safest method to kill him without triggering some dangerous magical backlash.

Hongjoong caressed his thumb over Seonghwa's cheek. His silence was worried about him, but the thumb on his skin yearnful. Even when he wanted Seonghwa to rest, he liked their intimacy. Wanted to explore further.

Seonghwa bit his lip. Yesterday, he wanted the same. Wanted to be dreamy and hold Hongjoong wherever they could. Whisper sweet promises and explore each other until there were no more secrets between them.

What a joke. When Hongjoong kept such a secret from him all this time. Had he snickered with his spirits behind Seonghwa's back? Thought how easy prey he was for helping the downfall of his own people?

Irony was cruel.

"This potion needs my attention. Are you so in love with the feeling?" Hongjoong chuckled to him, softened by the meek plea. Seonghwa's heart jumped in his chest and he pinched his eyes shut. Levelled his breathing.

He could do this.

"In love with you, perhaps," he whispered, finally catching Hongjoong's attention. He turned away from his potion and a shooing gesture sent the shadows scrambling. When he picked up Seonghwa around the waist, he was unexpectedly strong. A moment later, he carefully placed him on the table. Where he took apart bodies and cursed the living.

Bile gathered in Seonghwa's throat, but he bravely gulped it back. Hongjoong's arms held him securely and the kiss he pressed to Seonghwa's cheek was gentle, if icy.

"Let's take things slow, even if you are eager. I don't want to hurt your body."

Right, because Seonghwa had human limitations. Because he was alive.

So confused between his fluttering heart fighting against its prison of stone and the sheer disgust with the necromancer before him, Seonghwa just reached for his face. He tugged Hongjoong closer with all the bones attached to him, the morbid clothes he wore and the covered eyes, as if he shunned the world of the living or it shunned him. Their lips met so lightly, so romantically. Seonghwa wanted to cry, wanted to fall into him and beg Hongjoong for advice, for any wisdom in this matter.

Why had things come to this? What had he done?

But Seonghwa knew this was his only chance. As soon as Hongjoong caught wind of his plans, he would protect himself. No one could do this but Seonghwa. And he fought for his home.

Seonghwa opened his lips to Hongjoong's to deepen their kiss. His palm subtly felt over his side while their faces blocked each other. Trembling fingers wrapped around the grip of the blade and hot tears gathered in his eyes.

Almost, he discarded everything. Was too in love with Hongjoong's gentle kiss, his scent and the care he conveyed.

Before his tears would choke him up and rob him of his strength, Seonghwa slipped the blade from its leather sheath. He unveiled it between them and angled his head, poising his fist how his father had shown him to kill rabbits and pheasants.

His fingers trembled. He strained with all his might, pushed himself by yelling in the void of his tormented thoughts. It was so simple. Hongjoong was unprotected. A single stab would suffice, and once he was down, the rest was easy.

The metal was cold in his fist. Seonghwa quivered, holding on for dear life.

A sob broke over his lips.

Hongjoong immediately pulled back from him, worried about what was wrong. He noticed the tears, the trembling figure atop the table and the blade clutched in his hand.

Though he didn't step back, Hongjoong paused. Seonghwa's weeping was loud in the silence of the spacious tomb of fallen knights. Purple flames danced over Hongjoong's clothing.

"I see," Hongjoong muttered. He took in Seonghwa's pitiful shape, unable to do it. He was too human to kill. Too fond of Hongjoong to battle the feeling in his chest.

A cold hand wrapped around his wrist. Seonghwa almost dropped his knife. He wanted to apologise, wanted to explain himself and hear a testimony from Hongjoong's side. Though he knew how much this betrayal stung and Hongjoong deserved the same back, Seonghwa felt awful.

When Hongjoong guided his hand up, Seonghwa expected him to attack. He winced when he awaited pain, but Hongjoong didn't move anymore. He was silent, and it was just them.

Meek, Seonghwa opened his clenched eyes. He realised Hongjoong had levelled his hand to his chest, pointing the tip of the blade right at his clothes. It nudged the fabric barely, not enough to cut it.

The proximity alone made Seonghwa hiss and loosen his fingers. He hated the sight of a weapon so near a person he cherished.

But Hongjoong held him and the knife up. Pointed the blade at himself to make things easier for Seonghwa.

"Is this what you wanted to do? My heart is right here. It only needs a small push."

His voice was oddly sombre. Lost its soft note yet didn't get sharp either. As if he agreed with Seonghwa. As if he would indulge his plans if only he burdened the guilt.

"Why- Why..." Seonghwa babbled. More tears fell. He hated this. Didn't want to hurt Hongjoong. His acceptance was all the worse. Would he allow it since he loved Seonghwa?

"You found out, didn't you? About my magic? You must think me repulsive now," Hongjoong figured in an understanding whisper. His apology for having touched Seonghwa went unspoken. As if Seonghwa hadn't been the one to seduce him.

Everything got worse by the second. Seonghwa didn't want this. Was too weak in body and soul.

"Never!" He protested. "You are not repulsive to me, but... But my village. The physician said your magic made everyone sick." Nervously, he sought Hongjoong's even expression. His heart sank at his nod.

"That is true. It was my doing."

"Why would you do that? For power? Some sick joy? Was it fun to play with me?" Another sob wrenched free from his throat. He trembled so pitifully before Hongjoong and the necromancer witnessed him full of sorrow.

"You are the answer, Seonghwa. To all your questions. I had hoped you would see that you helped your people, but... I admit I wasn't genuine with you. Stab me if that is the only way you can forgive me. I don't fear death."

"I don't want to kill you," Seonghwa wailed. Didn't even want Hongjoong dead. Yes, it was for the best, but he couldn't. The attachment was already too powerful.

And the fact that Hongjoong didn't fight back or called to the ghosts meant he felt the same. It was unjust to both of them.

"I want answers. Want you to make me understand." In his muddled brain, Seonghwa didn't understand anything. Why Hongjoong was here. What he was doing. What his goals were. Why Seonghwa and why his village.

Hongjoong nodded, still not giving up his hold on Seonghwa's quivering fingers. Their skin shared each other's temperatures in that delightful way. Seonghwa blinked against the tears clouding his vision.

"I can give you those, too. If you are so patient. You may still decide whether to kill me after; I won't fight back. But if you hear me out, you might understand," Hongjoong offered. He didn't beg, only left Seonghwa the room to make up his mind.

When he nodded, they lowered the blade. It clattered onto the stone table, not too far from Seonghwa.

Hongjoong stepped back from him, leaving him room to move and attack if he wanted to.

He wouldn't fight back.

Quivering with his vulnerable heart, Seonghwa clutched to the rough edge of the table. Didn't leave Hongjoong's wistful smile from his eyes.

"Sit down. Let me explain to you who I am."