Chapter Text
The evening air was saturated with the subtle scent of damp earth and late-blooming roses. You were seated in the gazebo standing within the garden of Arthur's sprawling estate. Moonlight pierced through the foliage, painting dancing, silver patterns upon the flagstone floor.
Arthur, ever immaculate with his perfectly styled hair and a velvet smoking jacket that flawlessly flattered his features, radiated an elusive, mysterious aura.
You knew he was a charmer, a seducer. You had witnessed his charisma and incredibly keen gaze directed towards other women, whether they were visitors in the city or innocent guests at his home. That tension, the effortless flirtation that came as naturally to him as breathing, constantly surrounded you.
Yet, when he was with you, all of it seemed to fade. Occasionally, you glimpsed a depth in his eyes that hinted at something more than just another fleeting amusement.
But such moments were rare, and you were afraid to grasp them, lest you stumble upon the cold reality, that you were merely the next in line of his temporary loves.
Tonight, however, felt different. Arthur was unusually quiet, focused solely on you. He moved toward you, gently taking your hands and raising them to his lips to kiss your knuckles. His touch was hot, almost inappropriately intense for such a cool evening, yet you didn't want to pull away.
He looked up, his deep eyes, now strangely gleaming under the moonlight, piercing through you. A familiar worry echoed in your mind: why was he so serious tonight?
"Do you believe in the red thread of fate?" he asked, his voice low yet urgent.
"Arthur, you can't be serious? Are you treating this like another game we're playing?" You feigned confusion. You had always been skeptical of such romantic superstitions. It sounded more like something from a novel.
"No, not this time. For me, it's not just a superstition." He smiled faintly, but it wasn't his usual, slightly arrogant smirk. It was more an expression of hidden hope.
He released your hands to casually rub his knuckles. And then you noticed something strange. For the briefest fraction of a second, a faint, almost invisible red light shimmered around his wrist before quickly fading, as if he feared you might see it.
"Demons, and some of us who exist beyond ordinary human comprehension, see things you do not," Arthur continued, carefully choosing his words. "We see the bonds. The threads that connect souls. And at this moment…" He looked at you again, his gaze now filled with an absolute sincerity you had never witnessed in him before. "…I see the red thread. It is delicate, bright, and firmly tied between me and you." Your heart clenched. This wasn't the lighthearted game. This was something that terrified you more than any demon.
"Arthur, I... I don't know what that means. I don't see anything like that. And honestly, your talk about 'demons' and 'bindings' scares me. I don't want to be just another... another trophy of yours. I can't trust you when you act like a perpetual womanizer and then talk about 'fate,'" you blurted out with a mixture of fear and disappointment in your voice.
Arthur froze. Your words clearly struck him. He had truly kept this hidden. He felt the mask he wore so meticulously beginning to crack.
"You fear I am just another one who will use you, that your heart will merely be another one on a list?" he asked quietly. You nodded, unable to speak.
Arthur took a deep breath, as if steeling himself for a very dangerous move. He inhaled deeply and looked as though he had cast aside all the masks he wore.
"You are right, I have been... I am careless. My nature, my habits… they all looked like a game. But you are not a game, Y/N. You never were. The red thread... that is what keeps me anchored in this world, what makes me want to be better than I am. For you..." he confessed.
He paused for a moment, as if searching for more words. The writer who was never at a loss for a clever line seemed suddenly abandoned by all his ideas. He closed his eyes for an instant before opening them again to look at you.
"I have to tell you something, and whatever happens, please, don't leave immediately," he whispered. "I see the thread because..." He stopped, taking the plunge. "...because I am not who you think I am. I am an incubus, Y/N. And what I feel for you… it is stronger than any desire I have ever felt before."
"This is like something out of a bad novel..." It made no sense to you. You didn't believe any of it, and all this time, you thought Arthur, such a rational man, didn't either.
"It seems I don't have many options, huh?" He smiled weakly and cautiously took your hand. "If you need proof, you shall have it..." he said, just before something you hadn't expected occurred.
His eyes gained an almost luminous sheen, horns sprouted from his hair, a pair of bat wings burst from his back, and behind him, a long, slender tail ending in a heart shape snaked down.
"This is me..." he said, a vulnerability in his voice that you had never heard from him before.
Shock mingled with an incredible wave of understanding. Everything suddenly made sense, the mystery, the intensity, the heat. And the thread. You were terrified, yet utterly fascinated. You knew you had just learned his deepest secret.
"I know this hurts. I know you're afraid. But the thread isn't a bond for a victim. It is a bond for a partner. For someone I want to share... everything with. I don't want to trap you, I want you to want to stay here on your own accord. And this feeling, this real, unadulterated feeling... it's what finally keeps me sane," he murmured, leaning close, his face just inches from yours.
Overcoming the initial panic, you looked at his vulnerable expression. He looked more like a scolded puppy than a creature of the night. You raised your hand and gently touched his cheek. His skin was still hot. You felt the tension ease beneath your touch.
"The red thread," you whispered, your hands still trembling slightly. "So you are just... an incredibly romantic, supernatural, slightly dangerous writer who sees the thread of my destiny. And I'm supposed to believe you?"
"If you let me show you how an incubus cares for his beloved... I promise I will never touch another woman besides you again." Arthur smiled, and this time it was a genuine, radiant smile that lit up even the moonlit night.
And in that moment, despite all logic and fear, you believed him. You weren't his next victim. You were his destiny.