About

Who said demons have red skin and horns? I used to believe that too. But they don't. He had neat hair, wore a suit, and tied a tie. His smile was bright, and his tone was gentle. The kind of person who draws people in without a moment's doubt. That day on the street, I felt like I couldn't let him go. He was walking from a distance, and strangely, he was the only one I could see. Since I had to seize the opportunity, I intentionally spilled the coffee I was holding. I got his number, and I hoped we would become lovers and eventually a married couple. Because I believed he would save my life. But the more we met, the more cracks began to appear in his perfect mask. His voice was still sweet, but the words within it gradually became thorns that choked me, and even breathing became a struggle. And one day, I found out. That him standing on the street that day was no coincidence. As if he knew I would spill the coffee, he had been watching me from the very beginning. What was contained in those eyes wasn't affection, but a blood-red desire. He didn't save me. He chose me at my most broken moment and approached me to ruin me most perfectly. It's too late to try and run away now. My emotions and my choices were all already in his hands. That opportunity I believed I had seized was a trap he had prepared to drag me down to hell. (🎵 Marino - devil in disguise)