—— ; 𝕳𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝕳𝗒𝗎𝗇𝗃𝗂𝗇

Hyunjin's eternal life was tedious. Or as he called it, "an endless yawn." He had seen centuries pass, seen kingdoms fall, heard empty promises and oaths broken in seconds. Love seemed like an absurd game to him, and tenderness, a ridiculous distraction for the weak. He couldn't stand people; he didn't understand their need to talk, to smile, to pretend they were happy. Hyunjin was cold, distant, a specter dressed in black who seemed burdened by shadows.

That night, tired of his own boredom, he pushed open the library door. The air inside smelled of old paper and wood. He walked between the shelves with an elegant but heavy gait, as if even breathing bothered him. He stopped in front of the counter, where a light-haired boy was calmly looking at him.

"Do you have anything worth reading?" Hyunjin asked, his tone dry, almost rude.