Joohyun hears the doctor's words and the first thing she feels is fear. When its serpentine coils settle in her stomach, she tightens her hold on Seungwan's hand, determined to not let go. They can get through this, she knows they can. Seungwan is strong and she is smart and together they can make it through anything.

The doctor says that Seungwan is lucky and she hates him for it.

She leads Seungwan home. Her fingers are too limp and her wrists are too thin and Joohyun should have noticed. She should have seen the signs and put the pieces together. She blames herself. If they had known earlier, if they just had a little more time, things could have been different.

And now it's too late.

Their rings meet with a gentle clink and Joohyun remembers going to a hundred shops to find the perfect one, remembers slipping it onto a pale finger, remembers the promise of a lifetime.

Joohyun knows that she will never love someone the way she loves Seungwan. There's a piece of her that she gave away and it's one that she's never going to get back. She knows that If she asks, Seungwan would give. But she never will.

That part of her belongs with Seungwan and she wants it to be kept.

They arrive home and she presses a kiss to a pale forehead before heading out. She returns with all the ingredients for Seungwan's favourite meal. Seungwan flitters about while Joohyun cooks, it feels like home and she wants it to stay this way.

And that’s when it comes to her.

≈

Late at night, when Seungwan's tucked into their bed, Joohyun at gossamer strands and watches moonlight dance across a sleeping face. They could be happy, she thinks, they could stay like this forever, just the two of them. Joohyun whispers her promises into the silent night and begins to plan.

She calls her father and asks him to prepare the house.

She is desperate and she knows it. But there is a strand of hope. It is thin and is it frayed, but it exists and Joohyun isn’t going to let it go.

Spider silk is delicate with a deceptive strength. But if she’s patient enough, if she’s persistent enough, Joohyun can stop the world from spinning on.

≈

As far back as she can remember, her father taught her the basics of painting and her mother cultivated a love of beauty. There are certain… things that cannot be allowed to leave the family and she is their only child.They swear her silence to their blood.

Joohyun paints animals, landscapes, portraits of people. She masters the shapes and colours and her work gradually breathtaking. Her parents' smiles are proud and they teach more and more family techniques as she grows.

One day, in a hidden room of rough-hewn strong they tell her something far too soon. And she flees, she flees from home, the city by the sea, and everything she has ever known.

Even after leaving, she paints twice a week; her parents’ teachings never straying far from her mind. Joohyun does not paint portraints. Not anymore.

≈

With each passing day Seungwan gets weaker and Seungwan gets frailer. And Joohyun's desperation grows. There is no more music, no more laughter, no more stars dancing in pretty eyes. She can't stand to see Seungwan so unhappy, can’t bear to watch her wilt away.

When her father calls and tell her that everything is ready, she sighs in relief. Her family had asked her questions and she had told them no lies. She asks Seungwan to come away with her, knowing that she will not refuse.

And so Joohyun returns to a place she swore never to step foot in again. A place that she never thought she would willingly go back to. Especially not with Seungwan.

Dark secrets lurk within the house and they will never leave. It has been that way since it was built and it will stay that way until it’s nothing but ash and rubble.

But Joohyun knows she has no choice. Their time is running out and there’s only this.

This is the only way they can be happy together.

≈

They arrive when the sun shyly peeks over the horizon. The house appears almost welcoming, cast in the light of the morning.

Joohyun chooses a room in the west wing that faces the sea and sunset. It’s well-furnished, without any pictures, and it feels more like home than it ever did before, and she knows it is because Seungwan is here with her.

She gives Seungwan free rein of the entire west wing. There’s a thousand curiosities to enchant her and Joohyun knows that she will be charmed. She drags Seungwan to the library first. As long as Seungwan knows there’s a library here, she won’t suspect there’s another in the east wing.

Houses do not usually have two libraries, after all.

The east wing is dangerous. The east wing houses far too many secrets and Joohyun tells Seungwan it’s under repair, lest she go exploring and stumble on inconvenient truths.

≈

When Seungwan is sleeping and the house is silent, Joohyun creeps away into the dark.

Portraits of her ancestors line the walls and when she nods her head politely, they nod back. The hall ends at a wall with a picture of a bookshelf that stretches from floor to ceiling, so detailed one can name every single painted volume.

Joohyun places her palm against the canvas. She steps forward when she feels the solid surface beneath her palms disappear and her fingers glide through the air like it’s water. Joohyun ends up in the dark, right in front of a bookshelf exactly like the one in the painting. She heads to the centre of the library. There’s a picture of a mirror hanging above the fireplace.

Her father appears in the mirror at exactly midnight. He tells her what books to consult and where to find them. He says that the materials have been prepared and the room is ready.

And that all she needs is a substitute.

He says that she is talented, but this is dangerous and that if she has any hesitation, he can come to the house and take care of it all.

Joohyun replies that she will be fine.

This library will be their salvation. It’s been carefully cultivated and guarded, generation after generation, and she thanks all her ancestors for enabling her to do this.

It's these books, dark and forbidden, that she delves into when Seungwan sleeps. Night after night, she learns things that she shouldn't know. She does things that she shouldn’t do. Terrible, depraved things that she will make sure never see the light of day.

Because she knows how much Seungwan loves her.

And she knows it’s not enough.

≈

Joohyun takes Seungwan to the city by the sea.

Its occupants are welcoming and the city is beautiful. She can tell that Seungwan is eager to explore. She tells Seungwan it’s a city of lovers and a city of dreams. Love never dies here.

The people have been here for generations. She remembers every face from her childhood. They haven’t changed a bit; they haven’t aged a day.

When Seungwan is distracted, she heads to the bulletin board. She leaves a note asking for volunteers.

Joohyun understands that life is precious. Now more than ever.

The townspeople know what signed up for. They have either paid their dues or are prepared to. They owe her family everything and Joohyun knows what they will never forget.

She needs a substitute.

≈

They spend their days together in their mansion by the sea. Seungwan’s cheeks grow gaunt and lose their colour. Seungwan’s blood rusts on marble and glass.

And Joohyun’s desperation grows.

≈

There’s a letter wedged in the gate and Joohyun hides it away before Seungwan can notice.

≈

It’s a moonless night when Joohyun lurks behind the gates with a hooded robe and a flickering torch. She does not flinch when silent figures step out of the shadows and into her light.

She leads them through the gate and the garden, and she does not look back.

She leads them through the cellar and its false wall, and she does not look back.

There is a room of rough-hewn stone with sconces lining the wall, holding torches that do not burn. The altar is obsidian. Old as Pompeii and just as deadly, its inky blackness swallows the light her torch casts.

She flicks her head sharply and the figures move.

Joohyun’s arms shake when she raises the blade and paints the void red.

≈

Joohyun had told Seungwan that pictures of people will always be a pale imitation: lacking soul and beauty and everything that colours life. Life is impossible to imitate. However, it can be borrowed; can be taken.

≈

Blood, bones, skin.

Joohyun takes life to give life. And no matter how gifted the artist, the medium still matters more.

She starts Seungwan’s picture wearing the scent of iron like a cloak.

≈

Seungwan sleeps until the sun reaches its highest point. Seungwan’s eyes lose their shine. There’s a lethargy in her limbs and a sadness in her smile.

Joohyun spends her days watching Seungwan and her nights painting what she sees. We will be happy, you and I.

She cannot go any faster. Not with the materials she has.

≈

Half the bed is empty when Joohyun wakes. She finds Seungwan when the stars begin to take their place and the world is quiet.

Seungwan is serene in the moonlight and looks as if she could be sleeping.

Joohyun knows better.

≈

She needs a substitute. And this time she does not ask.

Joohyun knows the more she takes, the more she can give.

≈

The void runs red. Again and again. And iron begins to seep into her soul.

≈

Seungwan’s eyes snap open.