It wasn't like Luhan had no hobbies at all, but going to the library was second nature to him, especially if he had an entire day off. If he was being honest with himself, it felt more like home than his actual apartment sometimes. At least he'd missed this place ever since he’d temporarily moved in with Minseok.

He could feel his steps getting lighter as he walked up the familiar marble stairs, the sun just teasing over the horizon. For the first time, Minseok had still been asleep when he left. He'd mixed up a simple kind of tea with the plants he could find - it was nothing too fancy, but he left it in a pot on his bedside table, anyway. Apparently, living with a witch did have its bright sides, since Luhan couldn't think of anyone else having dandelion roots in their home.

He'd looked a little better already, with the markings looking much fainter than the day before, which is why Luhan figured it would be alright to leave him alone to rest.

Sunyoung was already sitting at the reception desk, looking wide awake and bright as usual.

"Morning! You're early today, is the store closed?" she asked as Luhan slipped behind the desk to squeeze her shoulder in a quick, but hearty greeting.

"Hey. Yeah, I'll be here all day," he announced, and she smiled.

"Always nice to have you."

Luhan went past her and took another staircase towards the staff room he was assigned to.

Staff rooms weren't a given, and with Luhan having a stable job, he rarely slept over at the library anymore, but he still had the key to this room. After all, he'd been volunteering for over ten years now, which made him part of the library.

The modest, clean room was empty - not surprising since the other four people owning a key each had busy lives of their own.

Luhan flopped down on the single bed standing in a corner and sighed.

This felt good. This felt like home.

He could still remember the first time someone had allowed him into one of the staff rooms, despite it being somewhat against the rules - it had been Yongguk, he was pretty sure. Back then, Luhan had been hopping from cheap hotel to cheap hotel, never staying too long because he didn't feel safe anywhere as a child. Living from day-to-day had been everything he'd known ever since the orphanage had closed and declared him an adult. It had been alright, and he would have made it either way, that much Luhan had always been sure of. On a particular rainy day when he found no hotel befitting the meagre amount of money in his pocket, he'd first caved in and stepped into the library, convinced they'd throw him out.

The capitol's library was open to everyone, had always been, but Luhan had been drenched and somewhat dirty from working all day. He must have looked downright miserable back then, like the shivering, helpless kid he'd been. Looking back, it was no wonder Yongguk had taken pity on him.

Luhan had vaguely known of the library, had known that it was a place funded by donations, offering shelter and even food to those who were in need, and to him, the enormous stone complex had always looked like a bit of a castle. Way too elegant and official for a street rat like him. That day, though, he'd been cold and desperate, and it had changed his life forever.

He swung himself back up again and stretched his arms over his head, exhaling contently.

As much as he was captivated by the world of magic teasing him with little insights and even more questions... being far from it was nice, too. Luhan wasn't fond of crowds, needed a bit of alone time on the regular, really, and while Minseok was anything but loud, there was no denying that he had a presence.

Right here, in his room at the library, Luhan had always felt more at home than in his own apartment. It was simply, blissfully calm and quiet in a way no other place was or would ever be.

With a chuckle, he flopped to his right side, staring at the few, lonely photographs lined up on a shelf.

What should he do today? He did have quite a few options. He could help out in the main complex, the hall where the books were stacked and sorted over multiple floors. This was actually what he liked doing the most, so he decided to go for it if they had enough staff in the other areas like the kitchen or cleaning crew. The library was a little like a society of its own, and there were even people giving classes in some far away rooms, but the heart of it would always remain the entrance hall with all its wonderful stone staircases, bookshelves, and tables.

'It's not always the books telling the stories,' one of the seniors had said to him back then. 'Sometimes, it's the people. And there's always someone around who's willing to listen.'

Luhan himself could go on and on about the life lessons he'd learnt from his seniors during the many hours he had spent around them, always watching, listening, imitating.

He had lived in the orphanage until he was thirteen years old, but if anyone asked him, he'd say that he grew up in the library.

A few hours of cleaning and a small snack later, Luhan was finally in the main hall.

Now he wasn't nearly around as much as he used to, and there was currently no kid living entirely under their wing - apparently, that had been a rare exception and in hindsight, it made a lot more sense why everyone seemed so invested and protective over him back then. Still, if he were to teach anyone the ropes, he'd take them to the hall, sit them down and tell them to simply watch the people around them.

That day, he saw many old friends - there was the young woman who'd been seeking shelter at the library for years, escaping her violent parents. Nowadays, she was in a better place, but she still came by regularly, because the library staff had become her friends. It usually started out like that - they'd seek help, become attached, and sooner rather than later, they'd help out, too. It might start small, by dusting off books to keep themselves busy, until at some point, helping out became a routine. It wasn't like any of that was planned - it was simply the most natural way things would develop. Kindness is often rewarded with kindness if only you're patient, his mentor Yongguk would say. And Luhan was glad that this was the case. He'd never bothered trying to find his family and never kept in contact with other kids from the orphanage, but he never felt lonely. He had the fellow library staff members and visitors, who ranged in age so much that they felt just like a complete family, the way you saw it in the books. There were aunties and kids, brothers and sisters, and Luhan wouldn't have it any other way.

And then there was Yixing, of course.

Yes, Luhan was given a surprising amount of happiness and love, considering his background. The least he could do was to always do his best and stay attentive and grateful.

That day, doing his best equated to simply chatting to both his friends and unfamiliar visitors. Listening. Just being there when maybe no one else was. Luhan knew quite a few staff members who didn't care for random strangers or didn't seek the company, but he certainly didn't mind and almost felt duty-bound to make people's library visits as soothing as they'd been for him.

Ironically, this often left him completely exhausted by the end of the day, but that was alright.

By the time the sun was going down, his eyes were itching, his feet vaguely aching and his throat felt dry, but overall, it was a satisfying kind of ache. A strong testimony of a good day.

He stretched his neck and back as well as he could at the foot of the library stairs. It was time to find Minseok's home. The magical ring was telling him to go north, the tugging so faint he could easily miss it if he wasn’t looking for it. It was somewhat fun to not know where his evening stroll would lead him, but at the same time his aching muscles hoped it wouldn't take too long.

"Long day?"

He almost kept walking, not realizing that the words were directed at him, but the familiar mop of curly, black hair caught his attention before his mind could put the voice to Minseok's face.

He was sitting at one of the tables at a nearby cafe, leaning back in his seat with a cup of coffee before him. A surprising, but not unwelcome sight.

"Oh. It's you."

Two steps later, he stood next to the table, one hand lazily resting on the strap of his back.

"You look much better today."

Something flashed over the other's expression, too fleeting to interpret it, and then he was back to the small, sharp, distanced smile Luhan had come to expect from him.

"Trying to make me take you home?" he asked, a teasing lilt easily dismissing Luhan's unspoken worries and questions. He did look better though - sure, he was probably somehow hiding the black markings, but his eyes looked clear again, and he seemed back to being in control of himself. Which was why Luhan let him off the hook with a huff.

"Please. I'd do better than that."

"Sure you would," Minseok hummed with an entirely suggestive once over that would make Luhan blush if he wasn't so very stubborn.

"So you're just sitting here, hitting on random strangers?" he quipped, shifting on the balls of his feet.

Minseok pretended to think about it.

"Only you," he then said. It came out playful and devilishly smooth, and Luhan had been living with him for a little too long to have it.

"Uh-huh, that reply came pretty late. I see what kind of game you're playing."

"You don't make it easy to be nice to you," Minseok retorted, tone still light and somewhat teasing.

"Sounds like something a casanova would say."

"Let's get something to eat."

"Huh?"

But Minseok had already gotten to his feet, leaving a coin beneath the coffee cup - which was empty, with the last drops having dried up already.

"You haven’t eaten yet, have you?" he asked, throwing an expensive-looking coat over his shoulders.

"Not really," Luhan hummed as he trailed after the other, who immediately took a purposeful turn into a narrow alley.

"Good."

He didn't immediately say anything after that, but Luhan was used to the silence by now. It gave him time to reflect on how much more playful Minseok had recently become. It wasn’t unusual for him to have a stray, suggestive line or look for him, but he seemed exceptionally playful and while that was fun, Luhan could only hope it wasn't linked to the somewhat embarrassing incident of the night before.

Which was a hilarious thought because if anything, it should be embarrassing to Minseok. Judging by what he knew of the other, however, he wouldn’t even be surprised if he turned even a situation like this to his own advantage.

He didn't bother asking where they were headed - if Minseok didn't tell him straight up, he wouldn’t tell him upon asking, either. Whether it was because he felt like he shouldn't, or whether he just derived slightly sadistic pleasure from throwing Luhan into the cold water was unclear. So far, Luhan had obviously stood up to whatever the past weeks had thrown at him though, and no dining place would top being whisked away from an execution scene by the person supposed to be executed, so he wasn’t all that worried.

They were walking down the dingy district west of the library where tiny, affordable restaurants were squeezed beside each other, constantly trying to invade each other's space. Luhan had eaten in a few of them, had worked for half of them somewhere along the line, and vaguely hoped Minseok wouldn't choose the noodle restaurant on the corner - he'd had some bad experiences in that one.

But no, Minseok kept walking until he unexpectedly turned to open a door. It was unexpected to Luhan because at first glance, he had stopped between two restaurants. The second and last glance Luhan could catch before following him inside made him think of a brothel or club - but the thick smell of food wafted over as soon as the door was opened. It was definitely a diner despite there being no tables in sight. Restaurants offering private booths weren't a rarity, but they were usually more upscale than this, without red lights and blank walls. Private booths in shabby places just made Luhan slightly wary, like he wasn't supposed to be there. Obviously, Minseok didn't share his sentiments and simply knocked on the small counter, placing a blue coin down. Luhan had never in his life spent a lapis lazuli coin on food, and he could only assume receiving a booth and paying for food came separate. The thought was a bit nauseating.

A green key was placed on the counter. The fact that nothing but a hand was seen, the fact that no one had spoken a word yet, really, all of it added to Luhan’s unease.

Minseok hadn't spoken to him in a while either, and he was smart enough to wait for him to start talking again.

They walked down a claustrophobic, equally badly lit corridor until Minseok opened a door to his right. Inside, a small, but clean booth was awaiting them, with no windows but perfect lighting.

A little too perfect, Luhan mused as he slipped onto the plush bench, staring at the ceiling while he awkwardly shrugged out of his jacket. There was a complex of oil lamps dangling from the ceiling but their light was way too bright and the air way too clean, with an entirely unnatural prickling sensation gently fizzing against his skin. It should be extremely hot and stuffy in this tiny booth, but it wasn't.

Minseok closed the door and slid into his seat across him. Now he was shooting him a clearly amused look.

"You're learning," he stated, and Luhan glanced up at the lamps again, considered asking about this room, but then decided to switch up his approach.

"I've never been to this place," he stated neutrally, waiting for Minseok to follow up, which he did.

"I can imagine. It doesn't look very inviting."

He placed a palm on the blank table, two fingers pressed together, and in a slow, but effortless move, he dragged it across the surface. Beneath, letters appeared, a little blotchy like someone had etched them into the table and lined them with ink afterwards.

"But the menu's pretty good."

If he expected Luhan to be shocked, well, he was in for a disappointment. He only leaned in closer, trying to make out the letters.

"I really hope you're planning on treating me cause I don't order off menus without prices," he said matter-of-factly, and Minseok made a tiny sound that might have been a snort.

"I will," he said quietly, eyes scanning the list of dishes.

It was hard to focus on them when part of his mind was dedicated to analyzing Minseok. What kind of statements amused him, which ones prompted him to tease, which ones to reassure? What made him go quiet and shoot him this unreadable, odd gaze that went too deep to look away?

Even casual conversations kept tripping him up because whenever he thought he'd had a good grasp on Minseok, he'd turn things around and go down a very different direction.

A perfectly manicured nail was softly tapping on the wood.

"I've had this one last time," Minseok hummed. "It was pretty good."

Fried meat did sound good, and even just reading these made him realize how hungry he actually was.

"I'll give it a shot, then," Luhan said, because he didn't know what he was expecting, anyway, and with Minseok paying, he might as well follow his lead.

The other hummed and dragged a fingertip over the line of text, which faded out all on it's own. Just like before, it was strangely unmagical, and yet undeniably surreal. He did the same to the special dinner of the day, and, after receiving confirmation by Luhan, tapped on the little corner that listed drinks.

"So... a line for one order, a tap for two?" Luhan asked while Minseok wiped the entire menu off the table like he was brushing away dust.

"Interested in magic?" he asked like he was flirting, and Luhan leaned back with a shrug.

"Who wouldn't be?"

Minseok's gaze softened a little.

"Plenty of people. Anyway," he began, changing directions immediately, "you were right about one thing; I don't cook, and I figured you might wanna sit down during dinner."

"You think I can't keep my mouth shut in public?" Luhan joked, but it dawned on him that Minseok had chosen this place on purpose, because it was apparently safe to talk here.

"A silent dinner for two might look a little sad, don't you think?" Minseok only asked in return.

If he had chosen this place with the option to talk about taboo topics like witchcraft, that also meant he was open to it. They'd been living together for awhile now, but Minseok had never really talked about anything related to him being a witch, and upon being asked, he usually stayed elusive.

Now that he had the vague chance of success, Luhan didn't know what he wanted to ask first.

Maybe this question is too complex for your current state of knowledge, Minseok had said about a week ago.

Then what was a question befitting his current state of knowledge?

"Is it really alright to talk here? Can I just ask whatever?"

Minseok slightly tilted his head, looking equal parts patient and encouraging.

"You can. Not saying you'll get an answer, but you can try. This place is safe."

His eyes flickered over to the door, where a row of symbols ran down the door frame on both sides. They'd been drawn in green ink, using a boldly shaped brush, giving them a traditional look. They also hadn't been visible earlier, but Luhan didn't let that distract him.

"See the eye? With the triangles around it?"

He had to lean in a little closer to see it, but among symbols used by witches the eye was by far the most prominent, easily recognizable by even ordinary people. It always had a bit of an ominous feeling to it, but this one looked particularly unsettling, with the pupil being colored entirely.

"It's filled, meaning that no one's able to watch us," Minseok explained. "The two triangles are symbols for ears and they, too, are colored. The symbol only keeps track of the magic happening in here. That’s done by the two droplets on the left bottom, and the symbol around it."

Luhan shot him a quick glance, but the other seemed nonchalant and casual about explaining this to him. After a last look at the symbol, he leaned back in his seat, ready to open the box of questions that had piled up over the past days.

"Okay, so... I've been wondering about some things. Like, how many witches are there, in this city?"

Immediately, Minseok shrugged.

"I don't know. Never counted them."

"More than ten?" Luhan prodded, and Minseok was back to smiling now.

"Definitely more than ten."

"More than thirty?"

This time, he was hesitating, considering it, and Luhan took that as an answer. He had no idea what kind of number he'd been expecting - sometimes, it felt like they were surrounded by witches, while other times, they seemed to be a rare phenomenon. It only made more obvious how much humans were leading each other on blind; how much people made each other nervous, spread fear and mistrust to the point that the truth ended up being a complete mystery. Minseok could have told him there's five witches in total, or a hundred, and both options would have seemed equally believable.

Slowly, he was beginning to understand what Minseok had meant by him not knowing anything.

"Do they all fight demons?"

He could see Minseok's gaze turn slightly questioning.

"Right now, I'm kind of the only one, actually," he replied, clearly curious as to where he was going with this. Luhan nodded knowingly.

"So that's why no one's helping you."

There was actual surprise on Minseok's face, but before he could reply, there was a knock on the door.

The waitress carrying their food wore a cloth over her eyes and a mysterious smile. It was eerily similar to a government witch, but something about her felt more human still. She placed the plates and drinks on the table, wished them a good meal, and left.

For just a moment, all the questions about witches and magic were forgotten at the sight and smell of the warm, delicious dish before him.

The silence lasted for about five bites of crispy, fried meat and vegetables.

"Was this done by magic, too?"

Minseok fished out a few noodles from beneath a marinated fish.

"If it was, don't you think our dinners at home would be more exciting?" he asked, an uncharacteristic kind of self-deprecating humor lingering between the lines.

"Creating food with magic isn't entirely impossible, but it's complex. Not worth the effort, really," he shrugged, eyes on his food.

Luhan hummed in acknowledgement.

"So," he began, steering the conversation back to his catalogue of questions. "If you're the only one fighting demons, then what do the others do?"

"Well, what do people usually do?" Minseok asked right back at him, and it was Luhan's time to shrug.

"I don't know. Have a job. Have a family?"

"There you go," Minseok supplied evenly, scooping up a piece of fish with his fork. "Though witches and families don't mesh well. Witches and people, really. Not even witches and witches."

"But why is that? Shouldn't you guys... stick together? Or something?" Luhan asked, feeling terribly naive. Minseok took his time chewing and swallowing, but knowing that he was getting answers was enough for Luhan not to become impatient.

"Witches are not team players. We're simply not. Everyone doing their own thing and being amicable is the most you'll see. So next time you see a newspaper claiming a witch conspiracy, you know they're getting creative again. There is no such thing as witches operating in teams."

"Huh," Luhan trailed off, tossing the somewhat depressing thought around his head. Sounded pretty lonely to him. Who did Minseok approach when he needed it? Who did he confide in, talk to, lean on?

"What if your relatives are witches? Wouldn't you be close to them?"

"Witchcraft isn't hereditary, at least not as far as I know," Minseok dismissed him. "I left when I knew what I was going to be."

"Because they wouldn't accept it?" Luhan asked carefully, and Minseok shook his head.

"You don't want to be the parent to a witch in this town."

"Right."

That made sense. It sounded lonely, but Luhan decided to think about that later, when Minseok stopped being so generous with his answers.

"When did you know? Or how?"

"I don't know about others, but I always knew. It just took me a few years to understand."

It didn't make a whole lot of sense and yet Luhan thought he understood. He wanted to ask more about that but there was another question burning on his mind.

"Can I ask you about these demons?"

"I'm surprised you didn't go for that sooner," Minseok quipped with a small smile that could actually be interpreted as benign. "The prospect of invisible monsters tends to upset people."

"More or less than being kidnapped in broad daylight?" Luhan asked light-heartedly. "Jokes aside though, what are they? If you're fighting them, that means they're bad, right? Dangerous, I mean," he elaborated under Minseok's mildly amused look.

The other hummed thoughtfully. For the first time that evening, he seemed to have to think of how to phrase his answer.

"They can be dangerous, yes. If they grow too much, if they infect a human, if they just... taint the air. All sorts of things can happen."

"Like what? Do people get sick?" Luhan asked carefully, and judging by Minseok's slightly scrunched nose, he already knew the answer.

"Not exactly," he began, looking around until he seemed to remember something. "You heard of that incident where a school teacher went rabid, like an animal? It was quite some time ago."

Luhan had heard of that. He'd never stepped foot inside an actual school - the orphanage could hardly afford that, but they had put in an effort to teach them the basics - but that tale was commonly known. The man had gone completely crazy to the point where someone killed him in self-defense. The case had been so rare and peculiar that the panic subsided soon enough, with people chalking it up to a single, insane person.

"That's a pretty common reaction to a demon festering inside of a human," Minseok explained, catching the way Luhan's hand twitched up to his throat. "Don't worry. It takes much more than a few spots to get there. What you have is basically just dirt."

Luhan shot him an unimpressed look for an answer.

"But if they're so dangerous, why does no one else fight them?"

"They're not all that dangerous to witches. And witches aren't particularly interested in human affairs. You can call it cruel, but if it was about the life of a witch, they wouldn't care either."

"But you care," Luhan pointed out, without skipping a beat.

"I wouldn't go that far," Minseok hummed evasively. He put down his cutlery and leaned back in his seat.

"So, is that it for the interrogation?"

Luhan thought about it.

"Last one," he promised, and Minseok nodded, vaguely encouraging him.

"Why did you answer all these questions?"

He looked fairly relaxed but kept very still, which didn't go unnoticed by Luhan.

"So I can ask one, too," he said. It sounded light, like a suggestion almost. Luhan lowered the glass he'd been lifting to shoot him a sceptical look.

"Just one, huh? I get that I'm not very interesting but that doesn't seem like a fair deal to you."

"I'll make it count," Minseok reassured him with a quiet smile.

"Okay?" Luhan asked, feeling irrationally nervous all of a sudden.

Minseok didn't make him wait any longer.

"Did I make you uncomfortable yesterday?"

What?

Luhan stared at him as one second ticked by, a second one following.

"Oh, so all of this is supposed to be an apology?" he asked, not angry in the slightest. The words had simply tumbled out to dance around the question that Luhan wanted to inspect further before replying.

Minseok huffed.

"No. Though you'll get one. If you want one."

The way he looked at him forced Luhan to shut up and seriously think about what to say.

It was hard to do so, with Minseok's undivided attention resting on him. It felt like the other was ready and capable of reading the answer off his face if he didn't pay attention.

And Luhan did not want him to know. Not all of it, at least.

Because that would mean to display weakness, to roll over and submit.

And that would be no fun, now would it?

He pretended to think about it.

"Yeah, I was somewhat uncomfortable," he admitted, a faux display of earnestly. "Because you stopped mid-way."

Carefully, he moved his leg until it bumped against Minseok's. He didn't stop, didn't give it time to be awkward and entangled their legs while keeping eye contact. The flicker of insecurity had long passed, making room for desire.

"Am I getting my apology now?" Luhan asked quietly, challengingly.

Minseok crossed his arms, tilted his head to the other side, and shot him a meaningful look.

"Sure. I apologize. For stopping."

"Good," Luhan quipped, and it came out just a little breathy because Minseok decided to rub his legs against Luhan's.

Yes, this... this was much more fun.