It had been a week and Luhan had yet to see a pattern regarding the location of Minseok's home. He'd left the store early, just around noon, since it wasn't too busy, and Yixing had all but shooed him out, not so subtly telling him to maybe go to the library again. It was obvious that he was still worried about him, and he was right about him neglecting the library recently. He decided to follow his advice after a quick change of clothes.

That day, Minseok's home was waiting for him in a deserted, shadowy alley close to the market, behind a dusty, wooden door.

It was always in a place without people, and he wondered whether the spell knew. He'd always harboured a silent fascination for magic and was convinced that every human denying such was lying to themselves.

The air changed when he opened the door, feeling oddly prickly, and his eyes immediately landed on Minseok, who was sitting on the floor, gaze fixated on something on the ground. With his light skin and white shirt, he was all but gleaming in the bright sunlight streaming in from above him.

If this was the sight of a truly evil witch, then Luhan could see how humans fell prey to them all the time.

At the sound of the door closing, Minseok's head shot up, brows scrunching together as he blinked against the sunlight in momentary confusion. Upon recognizing Luhan, his expression relaxed, only to be taken over by surprise as he fumbled with something on the ground. It looked like he had lost balance, despite him sitting on the floor.

"Come here and sit down," he ordered calmly, patting the ground to his right, slightly behind him.

Puzzled, Luhan left his bag by the door and followed his instructions. Slowly, he approached the other, stealing glances at what turned out to be a painted wooden board lying before him. Every possible question had died in his throat in favour of possibly witnessing actual magic, so he obediently sank to the ground, the board only half hidden from his curious eyes. It seemed to be good enough for Minseok, who lifted his palm from the board as if it had been about to levitate or slip away.

"Better," Minseok hummed. "You were tipping the balance. This will take a moment."

Luhan had no idea what the other was talking about, but he simply zipped it, silently trying to understand what he was looking at. The board had been painted by hand, with shades of dark pink and blood red watery paints layered over another, offering a canvas to precise, white chalk lines. Luhan tilted his head, tried to make sense of the rectangles and triangles pieced together like an exotic puzzle. The thick, strangely irregular yet purposeful line gave it away - it was a map of the city. Or was it?

Luhan wasn't too knowledgeable regarding maps, but he had lived in this city for his entire life, and the overall shape was befitting. The chalk lines didn't seem to separate districts though, at least not all of them. What was this map for, then?

The sunlight was filtering through the surreal shapes in the ceiling, throwing their own pattern of light onto the map. Luhan subtly looked up, but the sunlight was too blinding to try and decipher the shapes in the ceiling. He'd always assumed they were random gaps between construction beams, with parts of the roof simply missing, but maybe there was more to them.

For a while, it was perfectly silent to the point that he could hear Minseok's soft, even breathing. Outwardly, it looked like he wasn't doing anything at all, but Luhan wasn't foolish enough to distract him now.

It was hard to see it now, but he'd caught a glimpse of it earlier, while crossing the room - the markings on his face had seemed different than before, darker, too. Even from his current position, he could see them wind up the side of Minseok's neck, looking almost black. Had they gotten worse or had he simply not bothered to cover them up?

Sitting so close to Minseok and having nothing else to focus on made it easy to pick up on the subtle scent clinging to him - Luhan was obviously adept at identifying the scents of plants, but whatever this one was, it wasn't used in medicine or tea. Subtle might be the best word for it; a quiet, sweet whiff intertwining with a warm, tangy scent. Was it coffee?

Minseok shifted the board ever so slightly, ripping Luhan out of his thoughts. The pattern of light shifted, too, and it just kept going even when his fingers had stilled. It was slow and barely visible, but something strange was going on, and Luhan unconsciously drew back a little, his eyes glued to the board nonetheless. There were no sparks or magical runes, just nature silently slipping out of its corset of rules, and when Minseok almost gently turned the board, the sunlight began to scorch the wood, leaving eerily precise, black dots behind. They only appeared below a certain triangle of light and Luhan watched as the board was slowly moved so the triangle shone on every piece of the map at least once until it was sprinkled with burnt dots of varying intensity.

The air shifted again, and Luhan knew it was over, knew it before the tension left Minseok's shoulders. The sunlight seemed to wane in its intensity, down to something more natural.

He slid forwards a little until he sat right beside Minseok, looking at the board.

"What's it showing? It's a map, right?" he asked, unable to help himself. Minseok shot him a mildly surprised look.

"It... is," he said carefully, and without the blinding light and the air being so distractedly prickly, he looked somewhat tired. It worried Luhan more than he wanted to admit to himself.

"Was that exhausting right now? Or is it the markings?"

Now Minseok looked a little taken aback, trying to blink the haze away.

"What?"

Luhan retreated immediately, feeling like he'd overstepped a line.

"Sorry. I just. I thought they looked different today, so I was thinking they might be giving you trouble, but. Never mind?"

For a moment, Minseok just looked at him, slightly confused and something Luhan simply couldn't interpret. Then he shook his head, and pinched his forehead with an audible exhale.

"It's nothing."

He got to his feet in one fluid movement, but his hand twitched towards the edge of his desk, clearly seeking balance. He caught himself though, dusting off his clothes.

"I'll be going out," he stated curtly, reaching for something on one of his shelves. Luhan awkwardly got to his feet but by then, Minseok was already halfway to the door.

He could only stand there and watch him go, closing the door deceivingly softly.

The air felt different when Minseok wasn't around, too, but Luhan had yet to figure out the exact difference. What he did notice, however, was the absence of the small dagger on the shelf.

He stared at the wooden board, unable to shake the wary feeling settling in his stomach.

The dot north of the river seemed so dark that it just swallowed the stray sunrays grazing it.

It also seemed to move ever so slightly, but that had to be his imagination.

It was late at night when Luhan returned from the library, a small basket of leftovers dangling from his right hand. Maybe Minseok, who barely seemed to eat anything besides breakfast, would enjoy some of these simple baked goods - the library's kitchen wasn't luxurious by any means, seeing as it mostly operated on donations, but it was still more exotic than anything he'd seen on Minseok's kitchen table so far.

He pushed open the door only to be greeted by darkness, which meant that Minseok wasn't home yet. Or so he thought.

Upon getting inside, he could see dim light coming from his room, too weak to get actual work done.

Carefully, Luhan placed the basket down and inched forwards, to steal a glance through the open door into Minseok's bedroom. He didn't know what to expect, but the sight of a bundle on the bed was equal parts calming and worrying. Calming because the tuft of hair sticking out belonged to Minseok, and worrying because he never behaved like this. He never went to sleep before Luhan did, and he'd certainly never left the door to his bedroom open like that.

Rooted to the ground, Luhan fought an inner battle on what to do. The longer he stood there, the easier he could hear the other's breathing - short and shallow.

Something wasn't right.

"Minseok?" he asked carefully, stopping in the doorframe.

It took a split second for him to reply.

"Go away."

Luhan would have never hesitated in following that order, but the way it come out was weak and horse, fraying at the edges.

"Am I gonna get hurt for stepping into this room?"

"Yes," Minseok replied, but it came a tad too late, and Luhan could hear the underlying impatience. He decided to trust his gut feeling and entered the room, anyway. As expected, nothing happened, and the only thing he had to fear was the other's anger.

Minseok's room felt small, with his bed taking up most of the room, and the flickery oil lamp on his bedside table was too weak to illuminate any clear shapes. Luhan shot it a suspicious look - it shouldn't be flickering like this. The window was closed.

When he walked around the bed, it was hard to keep up a nonchalant expression. He probably failed, really.

Minseok looked sweaty and clammy, eyes pressed closed. The black markings had wandered up around his nose to his ear on one side. The fingertips clutching the blanket were almost entirely covered in black, too.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, hovering by his side, unsure of what he was supposed to do.

"Luhan, please," Minseok croaked out, refusing to open his eyes. "Just leave."

It seemed hard for him to speak and yet he'd bothered saying his name, for the second time ever.

"The markings have grown again," Luhan only stated, and Minseok shakily exhaled.

"The demon's just struggling. It's normal."

"Huh," Luhan hummed doubtfully. "It doesn't show on my throat."

"Cause it's just some stains," Minseok began, and twitched horribly when Luhan placed the back of his hand on Minseok's cheek. Cold sweat. His eyes shot open and he glared at Luhan through glassy eyes. His usually clear, bright pupils looked strangely milky.

"You sure you didn't eat another demon?" Luhan asked unfazed, wiping the back of his hand on his pants. "Yesterday? And another one today? That map showed the locations of them, right?"

He could see it in the way Minseok closed his eyes again, avoiding an answer.

"I bet if I look at the board now, that ugly, big dot north of the river would be gone, right?"

"The do you want from me, Luhan?" Minseok groaned, and he did sound exhausted and annoyed, but he was still using his name. He didn't usually do that. He never relied on any kind of personal approach to get his message across.

"You're cold, aren't you? And I bet you haven’t eaten yet, either. I'll go make some soup."

He ignored Minseok's faint, exasperated groan and went to the kitchen in search of anything suitable for a soup.

"You know," he began, raising his voice enough to reach the other over the clanking of pots, "is it possible that you just don't cook... at all? I feel like all of these have never been used and you never have any food in here, really."

Minseok's reply was too faint to be heard, but Luhan shrugged it off. He found enough familiar spices which were probably intended to be used for magical purposes, but Luhan shrugged that off, too. If he could recognize them, that meant they were common herbs and they could simply buy new ones.

He himself was far from being good at cooking, but certain dishes he just had to learn over time. Knowing how to make a simple soup to soothe a cold was essential when living alone. Luckily, he'd brought some vegetables, too, and made quick work of adding them.

"You don't even have salt, is that right?" he asked at some point, leaning into the room. Minseok gave up.

"In the green pot, below the sink."

"Great, thanks," Luhan quipped, purposefully not commenting on how slurry Minseok's voice sounded. He wasn't running a fever or had an actual cold, and Luhan didn't know how to help him, but being around and making him eat couldn't cause any harm. Maybe he'd eventually ease up and let him know whether he could actually help him.

Minseok owned an entirely ridiculous amount of salt and again, he suspected that it wasn't used for cooking.

In the end, Luhan was pretty proud of the result, considering the very few ingredients he'd had.

Unceremoniously, he sat down at the edge of Minseok's bed, balancing a half-filled bowl of soup in his lap.

"Can you eat on your own?" he asked, genuinely ready to feed him. Minseok shot him a filthy glare that would have been terrifying under different circumstances, but he sat up nonetheless, swaying a little in the process. He took the bowl and the spoon, begrudgingly starting to eat. Luhan could tell by the other's movements that it was not an easy feat for him, but since he refused to let it show, Luhan decided to let him be.

"You gotta eat more than some demons," he reminded him nonetheless, and Minseok shot him a hazy, unimpressed look.

"I'll eat you next."

It was easy to ignore the warmth coiling in his stomach when Minseok looked like he was about to faint any second.

"You'll just get more sick," Luhan dismissed him, tapping the black spots on his throat.

"I'll cure you first."

"Cure yourself first," Luhan said without missing a beat.

Clearly, he had won the argument, because Minseok looked down into his soup, brows furrowed in a mix of pain and concentration.

"You're so annoying," he muttered, and Luhan leaned back on his hands.

"I try."

"What for though?"

Luhan glanced at him with his head tilted in question.

"Why do you try though?" Minseok slurred, scooping up a slice of rice cake. He cringed at the way his own voice came out, and then the rice cake fell off the spoon, splashing back into the soup.

Without a comment, Luhan scooted closer and reached out to hold the bowl, both hands gently running over and beneath Minseok's fingers until the other gave up. He held it a little higher, making it easier for him to focus on just spooning up the soup.

"Why wouldn't I?" he then asked calmly, voice dropping instantly at the closer proximity. "It's not like it's asking much of me. You feel like , so what? Happens to all of us."

"I never know whether you're dumb or not," Minseok muttered, and Luhan exhaled for lack of a chuckle.

"I'm dumb most of the time, but helping sick people doesn't count."

"How about moving in with a witch who almost killed you?" Minseok countered. Luhan shrugged.

"Accidents happen. And you did say you'd cure me. That better not have been a lie."

Minseok's reply came faster this time, and despite him avoiding eye contact, it sounded uncharacteristically raw.

"Of course not. I'll get rid of it and you'll never see me again. You deserve that much. It's only fair."

That stung a little more than Luhan liked to admit - maybe Minseok was right and he was dumb, but he couldn't imagine returning back to the life where magic and witches were unpredictable evils.

He didn't know what to say, so he simply waited for Minseok to finish his soup, alternating in the way he held it so his arms wouldn't ache.

When he was done, Minseok his lips - a motion Luhan followed before he could help it.

With a sigh, Minseok leaned back against the wall, head thrown back to display his mostly black, glistening throat.

"Thanks," he breathed out, interrupting Luhan's thoughts about wanting to touch the tainted skin.

"Anytime. It was just a soup, anyway," Luhan dismissed him, placing the bowl on the nearby windowsill. "Hardly what a witch needs to cure demon-induced stomach ache, I guess."

Minseok hummed in negation.

"It did help."

He was still swaying when he slumped forward to looked at Luhan with nothing but a hand's length separating them but there was an odd intensity to his gaze.

"I feel better already. Let me try something."

"Try what?" Luhan asked, and it came out way too small and breathy for his liking.

The hand running up to rest in his neck was slightly damp, but not all that cold anymore.

Minseok's bangs were also sticking to his forehead, but his eyes were less milky, an his eyelashes pretty as ever, and then Luhan was tugged forwards just enough for him to press his lips against the side of his throat. It was warm, prickly, and set off enough sudden desire for Luhan not to push him away immediately. He didn't grab him, either, just slightly bared his neck as his own breath hitched.

Warm, sweaty, and a little musky. That's what Luhan's senses were picking up on. None of these should make his body go haywire like it did, but it also felt entirely unmagical, the way Minseok nipped and at his skin, the hand in his neck tightening as if to keep him there.

Trying to hold the sigh in only made it come out short and small, like the smallest moan, and Luhan dug his hands into his own thighs, drowning in the urge to lean into it, to let him know how much liked it so he wouldn't stop-

Minseok drew away, and now Luhan was the one feeling dizzy and lost. He tried his best to blink away the haze, to not let on just how much he'd love on Minseok's lips in return.

"Hm," Minseok hummed unhappily, squinting at Luhan's skin, entirely unfazed by what had just happened. "I thought I could it out but... I guess not. Sorry. You'll have to wait, after all."

Luhan stared at him, dearly hoping all of his emotions had slipped behind the wave of exasperation taking center stage. Minseok looked at him in question, completely unaware of what this had done to Luhan, who saw the slight flush dusting his cheeks and gave up.

"Get some sleep," he sighed, getting to his feet and reaching for the bowl.

"You look like you need it."

Minseok attempted to scoff, but laid down nonetheless, and Luhan extinguished the lamp.

Falling asleep was decidedly hard that night, with how he was torn between unfocused arousal, worry and the genuine look at Minseok he had gotten that day.

There was apparently a lot more to know about Kim Minseok, the demon-eating witch, and Luhan would be a liar if he acted like he wasn't itching to get closer to him.