Some nights spun out slowly, weighted by dread. Others, like this one, pulsed with hope—the kind that wrapped tightly around your chest and glittered at the corners of your vision. After their close call with the watcher and the eeriness of the anonymous photo, Amal and Min-jun didn't dare take safety for granted. But as midnight edged toward dawn, Amal pulled Min-jun onto the penthouse balcony, intent on weaving new memories out of the chaos.
The sky, that endless Seoul tapestry, stretched violet and black. A thousand city lights blinked their own language while above, real stars stitched patterns even immortals couldn't name. Amal lifted her head, eyes tracing constellations as she spoke, half to herself, half to the man she'd begun to trust with every bruise and brightness in her heart.
"My father used to say that you shouldn't waste wishes on shooting stars," she murmured, smile quiet. "He always said they belonged to those trying to find their way back home."
Min-jun cocked his head, taking in the sincerity of her expression. "If I had a wish, I'd spend it on getting to keep this—right now. No rivals. No monsters. Just you, the sky, and a world that still thinks we're myths."
She turned, searching his eyes. "What would you have wished for before me?"
He hesitated, honesty flickering between them like a live current. "The curse of immortality is that you get too good at letting go. I'd wish to remember what it's like to want to stay."
Amal's hand found his. Her grip was steadfast, her smile daring. "Stay, then. Tonight, make a promise under the stars. Something just for us."
So, standing on that wind-brushed balcony, they exchanged the kind of vow neither had planned on, not the clinical oaths of medicine or the public cheers of stadium stages, but the quiet, private kind that only two broken, brave people could understand.
He drew her close, pressing their foreheads together. "I promise to find you in every life and to choose you in every night," he vowed, voice steady and fierce. "Even when I am hunted, even when the world is dark, my first instinct will be you."
Amal swallowed, emotion thickening her words. "And I promise that for every brushstroke, every heartbeat, every moment someone tries to keep us apart, I'll find a way to bring you back to me. I don't care how many times I have to remember—we'll rewrite fate."
The world outside faded—no jeering crowds, no clutching collectors, no rival fangs lurking at the fringes. Just them, the wind, and the low music of the city. For a long time, neither spoke, letting the starlight nestle into their bones.
Then, seeking levity, Amal wormed from Min-jun's embrace, ducking behind a pillar to perform a mock stage bow. "Shall I serenade you, vampire idol? I've been told my 'Twinkle Twinkle' rivals your entire discography."
He laughed—a real, unguarded laugh that made his eyes crinkle and his heart wide open. "Only if you wear that donut-print apron while you do it."
She struck a ridiculous pose, half-dancing, half-inhaling moonlight, her laughter infectiously bright. Soon, Min-jun joined in, spinning her until she landed breathless in his arms again. For a couple hunted by the most dangerous of immortals, their joy was unexpectedly loud and stubborn. It was a dare to every shadow that stalked them: catch us if you can—tonight, we choose sweetness.
Between the jokes and the stargazing, they shared secrets: Min-jun confessed how he'd once written a ballad about longing and burned it before his debut; Amal admitted her favorite comfort was drawing monsters with silly hats in the margins of her patient files. He played a melody on the balcony railing, fingers tapping out a lullaby only she would ever hear.
A shooting star arced overhead, bold and brief.
Amal squeezed his hand. "We're not wishing, remember? We're making promises."
He answered with a kiss, gentle but endless, the kind that said everything words could never reach.
By the time the sky blushed pink and orange, promise and passion layered the air—the knowledge that whatever hunted them, as long as they faced the night side by side, they'd always have starlight to guide the way back home.