When your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you noticed wasn't the dark.
It was the smell.
A cloying mix of roses and something metallic — sweet at first, but underneath… wrong. Like flowers left too long in water, masking the copper sting of blood.
Your hands were bound. Not rope — silk. Soft against the skin, almost gentle, except for how tight it was, biting into your wrists whenever you tried to move.
The second thing you noticed was the sound.
A hum. Deep, resonant. Almost like a song being played far away on an old record player, skipping at random intervals.
You turned your head, and there he was.
Taehyung.
He was sitting in a high-backed chair across from you, legs crossed, a glass of wine balanced loosely in his hand. His shirt was half unbuttoned, his hair a little messy — like he'd just walked out of a dream you weren't sure you wanted to have.
Except his eyes… his eyes weren't the ones you knew.
"Finally," he said softly, like he'd been waiting hours for you to wake. "You missed the best part."
"What—" Your throat was dry. "What happened? Who was at the door?"
He tilted his head, as if weighing whether you deserved the truth.
Then his lips curved into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Oh… you met him."
Met who? The question was on your tongue, but before you could speak, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Do you know what's beautiful about mirrors?" he asked, his voice low, hypnotic. "They don't just show you yourself. They show you… all of yourself."
Behind him, you caught movement.
Another figure stepped into the light.
Your blood turned to ice.
It was Taehyung.
But not.
This one's expression was sharper, crueler, his smile nothing but teeth. The same face, the same body — but every ounce of warmth stripped away.
The two of them looked at each other.
One charming. One predatory.
And together, they smiled at you.
The first few seconds after you saw them — both of them — were a mess of disbelief.
Your brain kept trying to find logic, something to make it make sense. Twins? A trick? A dream?
But neither version of him moved to explain.
The "warm" Taehyung — the one you knew — sipped his wine like this was a casual reunion. The other one prowled closer, footsteps deliberate, eyes fixed on you like he could read your pulse just by looking.
You wanted to back away, but the chair was bolted to the floor.
Your wrists burned against the silk binds.
Finally, you managed a shaky whisper.
"…What is this?"
"Balance," the predator answered. His voice was deeper, silk over steel. "One of us keeps the mask. The other does the work."
The warm one chuckled softly, eyes dropping to his glass.
"She doesn't understand yet."
The predator stopped directly in front of you, crouching so you were eye level.
"Let me make it simple, sweetheart," he murmured. "Every smile you've ever seen from him?" He gestured lazily toward the other Taehyung. "That's me deciding you deserve it. Every time he pulled you out of danger? That's me deciding not to end you instead."
Your stomach twisted violently.
"That's not—"
"Real?" He grinned wide, and your breath caught. "Oh, but it is. He's not your savior. He's the polite mask I wear when the lights are on. I'm the part that comes out when the lights go off."
The warm Taehyung finally spoke, voice quiet but edged.
"You're scaring her."
The predator's grin widened.
"She should be scared."
He reached out and brushed a lock of hair from your face. You flinched so hard the silk ties cut deeper into your wrists.
He noticed. His eyes lit with amusement.
"Bleeding already? And we haven't even started."
You turned to the warm one, desperate.
"Taehyung… please—"
He shook his head, gaze unreadable.
"You're still not asking the right question."
Your pulse hammered.
"What question—"
Click.
The predator stood and moved to the far corner of the room. You hadn't noticed it before — the door. Heavy metal. Industrial lock.
And the scratching.
It was faint at first, like nails dragging across steel. Then it grew sharper. Louder. More frantic.
Something on the other side was trying to get in.
You stared, frozen, as the predator placed his hand casually on the handle.
"Do you want to see what's been knocking?" he asked, voice thick with anticipation.
The warm Taehyung set his glass down and leaned back.
"Be careful," he murmured. "Once it's open, you can't close it again."
Your heartbeat roared in your ears.
The scratching turned into pounding. The metal shuddered under the blows.
The predator's eyes locked with yours.
"Say the word."
Your mouth was dry. You couldn't tell if you were shaking from fear or curiosity.
"Wh—what is it?"
His smile was razor-sharp.
"It's what happens when you stop pretending you're innocent."
And before you could scream—
The door opened.