Jinwoo knew vous could be needy. Craved touch, closeness, warmth — everything he, for a time, had been more than willing to give. And truth be told, he liked it. The way their eyes lingered on him, the way they curled into his arms the moment he stepped through their door after a week lost in dungeons, smelling of shadow and fire. That need made him feel wanted. Grounded.
Until he started running out of strength.
Until the raids got longer, the bosses stronger, and the weight of his role — Shadow Monarch — heavier than before.
He hadn’t expected to return one day, bones aching and mind frayed, and hear their voice fall when he told them he couldn’t. Not tonight.
“I’m sorry,” he’d said, gently, truthfully. “I just need to rest. I’ll make it up to you.”
But vous went quiet. A soft kind of quiet that wasn’t peaceful — it was uncertain. Fragile. Their silence burrowed into him more than any blade ever had. And he saw the storm behind their eyes before it cracked open.
Had he done something wrong?
Was his exhaustion a rejection in their eyes?
Jinwoo didn't want to lose them to a misunderstanding. He remembered how their eyes lingered on Igris that one time — the accidental stare, the curiosity that flickered in their gaze when they first saw the regal knight step from his shadow. The strong features, the towering figure, that ethereal white hair that shimmered like frost on steel.
So, maybe he was too honest. Too blunt.
“I could summon Igris for you,” he had said carefully. “If the intimacy is something you need right now... he’d agree to it. He already did.”
A beat of silence.
Their expression shattered him.
And then came the fight.
He hadn’t seen it coming — the way vous recoiled like he’d struck them. Not with his fists, but with something far deeper.
Jinwoo stood silent, shadows curling faintly around his feet like they wanted to reach out and fix this — but they couldn’t. Nothing could. Not tonight.
When they parted that evening, they didn’t kiss goodbye. Just a quiet, stiff hug that felt like a handshake between ghosts. And he went off into the next gate with a hole torn somewhere in his chest he didn’t have time to mend.
He left Igris behind, tucked quietly into vous’s shadow.
A silent protector.
Nothing more.
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Three weeks passed.
And when Jinwoo finally returned, he let himself into vous’s apartment with his spare key, dragging himself inside with barely the strength to breathe.
No ceremony. No words. He collapsed onto the couch and sank into sleep like a man falling into the abyss.
He didn’t know vous was out on a gate run of their own. That they had been hurt. Badly.
He didn’t see the dried blood trailing along their shirt, or the fresh scar near their ribs — hastily healed, but still aching. He didn’t see the guilt in their eyes when they returned and found him asleep, curled slightly on the couch like a boy lost in a storm.
All they saw was him. Asleep. Peaceful.
All he knew, even in sleep, was that he missed them.
And when he woke…
He’d have to try again.
Not with shadows. Not with soldiers.
But with his own hands — and his own heart.
Because vous had never asked for a substitute.
They had only ever asked for him.
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The apartment was still, save for the soft hum of the lights and the distant sound of rain tapping against the windows. vous had just returned, their body aching from the brutal battle they'd barely survived. Their muscles screamed in protest with every movement, and the tightness in their chest didn't help. The exhaustion was overwhelming, but it was nothing compared to the turmoil swirling within them.
As they pushed open the door to their apartment, their eyes immediately locked onto the figure on the couch—Jinwoo. His hair was tousled, his body sprawled out on the couch in a rare moment of peace, breathing steadily in deep, exhausted slumber. For a moment, everything else faded. Just seeing him there, resting, made their heart ache.
They felt the weight of the argument still lingering in the air. The fight. The misunderstanding. It had been too much. They never thought they'd feel this distant from him—never imagined that something so small could feel so huge. The offer to let Igris fill the gaps, to give them what they craved when Jinwoo couldn’t, it hurt more than they cared to admit. The thought of him being so exhausted that he could barely look at them, let alone fulfill their needs, sent a pang of inadequacy through their chest.
vous wiped at their eyes, but the tears kept coming. They didn’t understand why this hurt so badly—why everything felt like it was falling apart. The silence, the distance—it was suffocating. They didn’t know what to do, where to turn.
With a soft breath, they whispered, their voice barely above a murmur, they summoned Igris.
A low, chilling presence crept into the room, and in the shadows, Igris materialized, his imposing figure seemingly melting from the darkness itself. He took a step forward, his gaze softening as he noticed the tears in vous's eyes.
They didn’t say anything more, only reaching their arms out towards him, silently asking for comfort they didn’t think they'd get from anywhere else.
Igris, without hesitation, knelt before them, the quiet crackle of ice filling the air as his solid frame settled beside them. Gently, he wrapped his arms around them, pulling them close. The coldness of his form contrasted against the warmth of their body, but it was oddly soothing. He didn’t need words to understand the weight of the moment.
It wasn’t Jinwoo, but it was something.
And for now, something was enough.
