Chapter Text
Moonjo never thought he would fall in love.
"Monsters don't fall in love." His adoptive mother would say, looking at him contemptuously. She sometimes reminded him of this phrase while beating him, thus trying to strengthen the authority of its message. She didn't have to. Even without it, Moonjo trusted her implicitly, treating her like a holy icon. Of course she had to be right, he never questioned it.
That's why he didn't understand the reason why his heart started beating faster for a certain boy from school. At first he thought it was a symptom of fatigue or a sign of illness. However, over time, when it turned out that the strange feeling only appeared when a beautiful boy appeared within his visibility, he understood the reason for his body's reaction. Moinjo wasn't stupid. He was able to connect the dots of facts and draw conclusions from them, but his first reaction to learning the truth was surprise. The second - a sense of betrayal towards his mother, whose words turned out to be a lie.
The woman misled him. He was a monster, yes, but without a doubt, despite being one, he was also capable of love. He could bur didn't want to tell her about his discovery. This woman probably wouldn't be able to understand it. After all, she had never loved anyone herself.
So Moonjo kept the secret about Jungwoo deep in his heart, letting it sprout within him like a thorn bush digging its thorns into his flesh. Feeding on his blood and the air he inhales. He fed it with his darkness, allowing it to grow unnoticed by anyone.
On the surface, Moonjo was an ordinary kid. A teenager, to be precise. Ordinary, maybe a bit gloomy and too calm for a teenager raging with hormones. Pale skin, dark circles under the eyes. The unblinking, empty gaze sent shivers down the spine of anyone who was immersed in it for even a moment. He scared people and he knew it. He was able to use this to his advantage. To find pleasure in the fear he aroused and savored it.
Jungwoo… His precious Jungwoo was the only one who didn't run away and avoid his eyes. Although that didn't mean he liked his presence. He became extremely irritated when the older boy started to follow him, not leaving him behind like a shadow. Jungwoo tried to hit him when Moonjo first confessed his feelings. The boy thought that his aggressive behavior would scare him away, but he couldn't be more wrong. Whatever he did, it only made Moonjo more obsessed.
Obsessed - because what he felt couldn't be named diffrent. It was the thing that forced him to think about the beautiful boy day and night. When he fell asleep, when he woke up, when he killed that one arrogant boy from his class who called himself Jungwoo's hyung. Moonjo couldn't stand that anyone considered the object of his infatuation as their own, no matter what form it was. It didn't matter that his mother was unhappy with what he did. She beat him severely, but it was definitely worth the reason he decided to do such a daring act.
Moonjo didn't stop courting Jungwoo, Jungwoo didn't stop rejecting him. Everything went in a vicious circle until finally his resistance gradually began to melt. Maybe Jungwoo was tired, or maybe he was somehow impressed by his steadfastness. Whatever it was, it allowed Moonjo to learn the true essence of happiness. For the first time in his life he could be happy.
The first time Jungwoo let him hold his hand, it was like ascending into the face of heaven. As he allowed himself to be kissed, Moonjo knew that no amount of blood would satisfy the monster inside him more than one gentle brush of those lips that were forever pursed in dissatisfaction.
Moonjo loved him with all his heart, and Jungwoo… it was hard to tell if what he felt for him was related to any romantic feelings. Moonjo realized that the other boy's actions were primarily driven by loneliness. The need for understanding. Distance from a difficult life situation. From his busy mother, mentally ill brother, and idiotic classmates which didn't even talk to him. To fulfill his needs there was nothing more suitable than another sullen teenager, especially one with an interest in him.
Moonjo was well aware that for every his adoring 'I love you' and 'you are my world' whispered between empty kisses, he would gain nothing but confusion. But he didn't mind. As long as he got his beloved boy's attention, he didn't need verbal reciprocation of his own obsessive affections.
Either way, Jungwoo wasn't a man of spoken words. No, words were not his strong suit when it came to verbal communication. But when he wrote... One could say that only then did he show the beauty of his nature. Jungwoo's appearance was the thing that attracted him in the first place, but it was his writing - notes stolen by Moonjo from his school locker, read passionately in secret from his mother - that turned it into a deeper feeling of love.
Jungwoo wanted to be a writer and he undoubtedly had the makings of it. He often talked to him about developing a plan for a story that he intended to publish in the form of a book in the future. For now, it was just a draft, each hint of which made the boy's eye sparkle with excitement. The passion Jungwoo unleashed whenever he explained one of his unwritten thoughts was so captivating that, honestly, Moonjo would have been enchanted even if the idea had been the worst of crap (which, of course, it wasn't). Whenever Jungwoo felt a surge of inspiration and felt comfortable enough to express it in Moonjo's presence, he wrote down his thoughts on loose-leaf paper. Unfortunately, he was so inattentive that he kept losing them, causing himself constant irritation.
Moonjo tried to collect the pieces of notes left behind as best he could, but he didn't always return them to the owner. Some of them he greedily hid under the mattress of his own bed so that he could feast on every word written on them during cold, lonely nights, still with the remains of blood on his hands and face from his adoptive mother's teachings.
As their relationship progressed, Moonjo began to observe certain changes in the character of the murderer in the story his lover was describing. It became much more tangible. His descriptions were somehow soft, seemed closer to the writer's own feelings. One could feel a certain sympathy towards the character from the author, and maybe even something that could be called a deeper feeling. The killer gained character too, but more importantly, in this case, he also gained a face. And for some reason it was a face that looked very similar to Moonjo's.
As soon as the older boy reached these conclusions, his heart was filled with an even greater need for affirmation. Of course, he never confronted Jungwoo with his suspicions, knowing that his beloved would react in a very violent way. Perhaps he would even forbid him from inspecting his work again. Moonjo preferred to silently bask in his inner happiness at the thought that his dearest Jungwoo had subconsciously discovered his true nature so accurately. This led him to believe that in the future, when Moonjo finally confessed to him about his extracurricular activities, Jungwoo would accept him completely.
Moonjo was completely blinded by feelings. Young and inexperienced, and to make matters worse, madly in love. People like him quickly become stupid and inconsiderate. They give in to emotions and make mistakes. It was no different with him.
Kang Seokyun was a nice kid. Way too nice towards Jungwoo. He was in the class below him and for some unknown reason, he clung to Jungwoo like velcro. Or at least that's how Jungwoo explained it to him, trying to shrug off the intrusive questions about the younger colleague. Moonjo, of course, knew another reason. He could recognize the buttery eyes when they were turned towards his lover. And although of course the ridiculously stupid boy had no chance against Moonjo and his status as a boyfriend, he still couldn't help but hate the bastard. Jealousy was eating him up from the inside.
On graduation day, Moonjo gave Jungwoo a leather notebook so that he could better organize his thoughts without losing pages. That same day, Seokyun gave his boyfriend a song he wrote. Of course, Moonjo felt obligated to later give Jungwoo that idiot's still warm heart.
How poetic, how romantic. A rival's heart as proof of his own love. Jungwoo should understand how much this gesture showed the depth of his feelings.
Unfortunately Moonjo made a mistake. In hindsight, he could admit that he had actually rushed things too quickly. They had been in a relationship for a year - still in the honeymoon phase. Unfamiliar with matters of the heart, they have never crossed the line of maturity in a relationship, which involves developing a healthy way of communication during arguments. But of course, they will still have a lot of time to learn this. Moonjo simply had to be aware that from now on the whole process would require much more work from him. With Jungwoo by his side, with the assurance that he would never be able to leave his house - now called their own - he could exert a little patience.
Seokyun's body was buried in the garden. Although Moonjo didn't allow Jungwoo to worship him properly, he gave permission to plant a flower bed. Carcass manure will certainly be the best substrate for them. Just like Jungwoo's tears will establish perfect hydration.
"These will be beautiful flowers." Moonjo spoke proudly to his lover, wiping the remnants of tears from his pale cheeks. "If my mother saw them, she would undoubtedly love her son-in-law."
Moonjo hid the fact that those words were just an empty lie. A woman who had been unable to grow anything but grass in her entire life would probably blush with envy. She wouldn't love Jungwoo either. Apart from the fact that she had more than one reason not to, she was incapable of loving anyone.
After all, she was a monster. Her species never does this. But unfortunately for her, the woman was no longer able to deny any of her adoptive son's words that he was now feeding his beloved. Lying in the cemetery grave, she was unable to do anything.
Getting rid of the woman wasn't as hard a decision as Moonjo thought it would be. In the end, even if he was true to her beliefs, he couldn't let her become a threat to Jungwoo. At the very beginning of planning their life together, Moonjo realized that she was an obstacle to their happiness. 'Obstacles are to be eliminated' - that's what she taught him. For Jungwoo, he was able to give up his mother. Moonjo was willing to give up everything. He was even willing to give up his own breath. He was able to give up his own life. Back then he thought he was capable of sacrificing everything. Everything but Jungwoo's presence, because no matter what, Moonjo wouldn't be able to give up on his love. He didn't want to, and he didn't have to.
After all, they had a long, happy life ahead of them.
"Fire awaited them. Fire and pain." Jungwoo whispered to himself, feeling a strong dissonance from his handwritten words.
He felt betrayed by these uncontrollable thoughts. The man threw the pen away with a hiss as soon as he realized he had let his mind wander too far.
"Hell was waiting for them..." He muttered to himself. He should have stopped. Stop thinking and stop taking these stupid notes. Although he told himself that it was for the good of his psyche, in reality he only sank deeper and deeper into the depths of his own suffering. More and more. As usual. In silence, so as not to worry the two people closely watching his every move.
He tried to be okay. He really tried. As long as he could.
And then he screamed. But only in his own thoughts. He screamed so as not to be thought of as a bigger lunatic than he already was. He shouted so as not to go crazy himself. To not be flooded with pain and bitterness of memories.
"Because people like us deserve only eternal damnation."
This statement was subconscious. Spoken too confidently to be considered a mere unsupported impulse. Oh, these words, how emphatic and hurtful were, directed towards his own being. It was with them that he chastised himself for those moments of weakness, when his memory and imagination took over.
It had its significance. Jungwoo definitely believed it. He had to. He couldn't suspend disbelief and stop antagonizing the monster that haunted his every waking moment.
He couldn't forget what this monster had done to him and what he was guilty of towards him. He couldn't let his mind wander any longer.
The macabre game of doll house is over, but Jungwoo's reality still remains hell.