Jiyong only briefly entertained the idea of using a host for his little jaunt out into the human world; very briefly. The way that he figured it, Daesung would know that he was there no matter how he tried to disguise himself. He allows himself a sigh and a thorough once over in the mirror before snapping his fingers and reappearing in an alleyway. He allows his body to adjust to the sights sounds and smells of the new area for a brief moment before walking out onto the sidewalk, straightening his suit jacket as he went. He’d decided on a rather vibrant red color for his hair this time, and he wouldn’t allow himself to dwell on the fact that he’d mostly done it to see Daesung’s reaction.

This time Jiyong was most definitely on the hunt; he was looking for Daesung, and his weird little angel-dar had pointed him in the direction of an old graveyard in the countryside of a rather decidedly secular area of the world. He wouldn’t risk it though, there was always the chance that someone had somehow blessed the graves or the ground over the years; Heaven only knew what religion the people who had been buried there had been practicing. No, Jiyong would stay to the outskirts and move his way in slowly once he had pinpointed Daesung and he felt comfortable with the lack of consecration.

It didn’t take him long to walk out of the small and only slightly urban area that he had appeared in, and onto a dirt path that led out to the ruins of much older cities. He paused by what he imagined was once a marketplace, and tried to pinpoint what it was about this place that had drawn him to look here first. He was certain he wouldn’t be able to think of anything, when he looked up and saw an old tree surrounded by the ruins of what he immediately recognized as a temple. It hit him almost immediately, as there was no way that he could have known just by looking so quickly that those toppled stones were once a temple; but he did, just as surely as he now understood why he had come here first.

The very first time that he had seen his angel was not a mere 300 years ago. No, it was probably a thousand years or more ago, when these ruins were grand buildings bustling with trade and thousands of people just waiting to be brought down the road to sin. When Jiyong had still been relatively new to the whole lying and cheating and stealing thing; when it had only been a relatively short time since he and the rest had fallen and he was still getting used to the aching need for forgiveness battling deep within him against his triumphant love of himself and freedom.

He had walked among these grand buildings and talked to people, whispered delicious lies into their ears and started awful rumors. He had wandered round the outskirts of the temple by the tree, tempting people away from worship with a few quick words. It had been under that tree that he had first seen his angel.  Daesung had had brown hair then, almost black, and he had been smiling brilliantly while talking with an attendant of the temple. Jiyong had seen him and felt suddenly afraid, very, very afraid. The kind of fear that cripples you and makes you stumble backward as though you’d been hit rather forcefully in the chest. They had made brief eye contact then, but Jiyong hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out anything more than that the brilliant smile belonged to an angel; and that had scared him even more.

He was perpetually afraid of desiring to be an angel again. The ache in his chest and mind was always worse the closer that he was to a church of some sort or place of holiness; he ached without the presence of God, and it was almost worse because he had chosen to live that way. Sometimes, sometimes that knowledge made him hate humans more and so made it easier to keep his head and continue on with his…life…but sometimes, sometimes all he wanted was the comfort of His presence. It didn’t help that while sitting in the board room the other day he hadn’t once felt the ache, nor had he felt anything but content the entire time he was being ignored by the human.

He had only managed to regain even a semblance of his self because Daesung had ushered him out of the room like a useless being that couldn’t do anything for himself, and then had the audacity to ask him why he hadn’t fought for the human’s soul. He didn’t want the human’s soul, nope. Even his mind couldn’t come up with a good answer.

But this, this was why he was here instead of anywhere else in the entire world. His angel would be here because this is where they first locked eyes. Jiyong allows himself to hope that Daesung will again have dark hair, as he found it almost as attractive as the blond that he had become so accustomed to. He allowed himself a small smirk as he thought about it; maybe his angel had a fun side to him. Jiyong shakes himself out of his thoughts and with a new spring in his step, he walks down the path until he reaches the outskirts of the graveyard. It was most definitely consecrated, as all final resting places were (though he sometimes liked to kid himself into thinking that just maybe some weren’t), so he decided to skirt around the edges until he found an area that he could walk on.

The best part, he decides as he strolls casually down a small foot path he had found at the base of a tree, about old graveyards is that for the most part only each individual grave was consecrated. He had spotted his angel while he stood underneath the shade of a tree and looked out over the vast expanse of land before him. The angel was standing near a large burial mound somewhere in the middle of the site, so Jiyong had set off in his direction, not particularly knowing what to do once he got there, but knowing that he couldn’t very well just stand at the base of the tree and do nothing.

“You’re a peculiar demon, Mr. Kwon.” Daesung says, and it’s more of a breath than actual words but Jiyong hears it anyway.

“How do you…” Jiyong starts to ask, but changes gears quickly as it was stupid of him to assume that Daesung wouldn’t know everything about him by now. “Never mind. What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Daesung asks, turning around at last. Jiyong was shocked to note that Daesung’s hair was definitely an interesting shade of purple instead of the vibrant blond it had been before. He realizes a little late that he had been staring, but he was mostly upset that he hadn’t noticed the angel’s hair color before it had turned around.

“You could.” Jiyong says with practiced ease, fighting the sudden impulse to run that he tended to only feel around this angel.

Daesung smiles broadly and tilts his head to the side. “But you wouldn’t answer me, would you?” Jiyong shakes his head slowly, a smirk slowly making its way onto his face. “And you wouldn’t answer me if I asked why you have been following me all these years, either, would you?” Again, Jiyong just shakes his head and again, Daesung smiles. “I guessed as much.” He says on a sigh before turning back to the burial mound.

“To think I would tell you my secrets is laughable.” Jiyong says, but he says it softly and regrets it almost immediately, which is new for him. Daesung, for his part, merely chuckles.

“Is it?” He asks, and Jiyong suddenly hates himself and his inability to do or say anything that can’t be considered thinly veiled hostility. “I think that there is much more to this than you are letting on, or than you even know.” Daesung says, and Jiyong wishes that Daesung would look at him, because he wants to feel that awful burning sensation rip through his senses; he wants to be reminded that he can’t just calmly converse with an angel and not suffer any consequences.

Mostly, mostly Jiyong wants to hate Daesung and feel repulsed or repelled by the beautiful angel’s existence. But he can’t, it’s becoming less and less possible and Jiyong is losing hope for that kind of respite just a little bit more after every single encounter.

“I want to hate you.” Jiyong says suddenly, filling the awful silence with the cool smoothness of his voice. Daesung turns to look at him then, his eyes shining in amusement and a lopsided grin on his face.

“You don’t?” Daesung asks, with mock surprise, though it’s merely playful and gentle and it makes Jiyong’s inside quiver. Their eyes meet and Jiyong doesn’t feel the pain he’s accustomed to, and he should have expected that because he hadn’t really felt it the last time their eyes had met either.

“I want to stop finding you.” Jiyong says, finding himself unable to stop his thoughts from rushing out of his mouth. He knows that it is probably the angel’s doing, and even though he would normally be really angry about that…he can’t bring himself to care enough to look away. The feeling, like a jolt of electricity running down his spine, is addictive and it’s exactly what he wanted to feel; he didn’t care that the angel was probably using his powers to force the truth from him. He honestly didn’t.

“I’m not hiding from you.” Daesung whispers, and Jiyong makes a noise that he wishes he could classify as the scoff he had intended it to be, but it probably sounded more like a whimper.

“I never said that you were.” He responds once he finds his voice, and Daesung smiles.

“I thought about it, though. I wondered what it would take for you to not be able to find me. You’ve been following me for such a long time. Watching me without my knowledge…I wanted to see if I could sneak up on you.” Daesung lets out a small laugh and looks back up at the burial mound, and Jiyong can’t help but to wonder what is so special about it. “It didn’t take me long to place you, you know. I remembered you once I really thought about it. That day, in the agora back there…I was talking to the temple attendants and you were lurking behind the main hitching post, trying to hide behind a horse. I’d been shocked when I’d laid eyes on you, and even more shocked when you stared directly into my eyes without flinching…that is until you turned and ran in the opposite direction.”

Jiyong feels his cheeks go hot and it’s such an unnatural sensation that he presses the back of his hand against it. “I wasn’t lurking.” He says, the venom in his voice a natural occurrence; Daesung didn’t even blink.

“And I was intrigued…but I couldn’t keep my attention on you as I had other business to attend to.” Daesung looks back up at the burial mound and lets out a sigh. “I wonder how differently our relationship would have been had I followed you that day. I know you didn’t disappear, Jiyong, you stayed in that city for a good few days.” Daesung hooks his thumb back toward the burial mound that he had been paying so much attention to, and Jiyong looks up at it, studying it carefully as he waits for Daesung to continue. “I know, because this man died after a young man in his care became greedy and killed him for his money.” Daesung tilts his head to the side and searches Jiyong’s face for a moment. “The boy got away with it, but that you probably know. What he didn’t get away without was guilt, which he felt for the rest of his short life.” Daesung lets out a soft sigh, but Jiyong just shrugs and  looks up at the burial mound.

“I don’t force them to do anything. What they do with the suggestions I give is their own decision, and whether or not they even take my advice is their own decision as well. That’s the lovely thing about humans,” Jiyong says, a mocking smile on his face. “They can choose what they want to do or believe, with little to know consequences at times.” Daesung doesn’t look affected by those words, which just makes Jiyong feel even more ornery; he just wants Daesung to react to him in some way.

“But yet, for all of an angel’s supposed lack of choice, here you stand.” Daesung says, and it sounds pitying which just makes Jiyong angry.

“I don’t want advice; I don’t want your sympathy. I ache and I’m in pain and I lie and I cheat and you don’t even seem to care.” Jiyong says, and it comes out as more of a whine toward the end and Jiyong winces inwardly as he tries to figure out how to handle the possible backlash.

“You feel so many emotions,” Daesung says softly, and Jiyong wonders rather suddenly what it would take to rattle Daesung so that he looked just as unbalanced as Jiyong felt.

“What an astute statement, my angel fair.” Jiyong says, and turns away; he was done for the day, being around Daesung drained him in so many ways that he couldn’t really understand.

“Are you going?” Daesung asks, and Jiyong allows himself to imagine that there is a little bit of sadness in the question.

“What does it look like I’m doing, angel baby?” He asks, throwing a smirk over his shoulder. He was rewarded with a rather confused look on the angel’s face that only made his smile broader.

“Oh…” Daesung mutters, but Jiyong can hear it, and it thrills him far more than it probably should.

“Until we meet again!” Jiyong chirps happily, and with a rather exaggerated turn and bow, he disappears.

Because being around Daesung was dangerous. Because he knew that he had fallen for the angel, and he knew that that was not only unfair, but extremely unfortunate. He was a demon; demons didn’t love...did they? Well obviously…. Jiyong was going to take this, this…infatuation into his own hands. He was going to make Daesung squirm. Because he was a demon in love with an angel, and he couldn’t do this in any way other than dirty, underhanded, and secret.

Because he didn’t know what the alternative was…and he wasn’t sure he was ready to find out.