Archive of Our Own ^beta

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All things considered, Jeongguk thinks he does a decent job at blending in with humans.

He’s still wearing all black like he did for his years in training, but that seems to be a human enough trend in Seoul. He even stumbled across a piercing shop his first time in Hongdae, looked at the pictures in the window with wide eyes, ducked inside, and ultimately left with sore ears, silver earrings, and a grin.

Piercing shops aside, Jeongguk doesn’t particularly like Hongdae since the streets are so crowded. The tiny apartment Jeongguk shares with Mingyu a half hour walk away from Anguk station is quieter, and Jeongguk, as curious as he is about humans and their busy, bright lives, is also happy to stay home most days working on his art.

His roommate, however, seems to think Jeongguk is missing out.

“You need to enjoy yourself before work starts next week,” Mingyu tells Jeongguk one night, attempting to lure him out to some human dance gathering called a club. 

Jeongguk blinks up from his spicy ramen, slurping his noodles before he answers, “I am enjoying myself,” he says, confused as to why Mingyu would think otherwise. 

Mingyu shrugs and waves, leaving for his club gathering in the tightest pants Jeongguk has ever seen.

The thing is, Jeongguk is only a few days out of training and he already misses the beach. The witch’s seodang near Pohang was Jeongguk’s home for nearly two-hundred years- practically his entire childhood. Now Jeongguk’s two hundredth and tenth birthday is nearing, and he’s more than aware every time he steps out of the apartment that he is painfully young and inexperienced in the ways of the world.

No one had taught him at the seodang how to use transportation cards. He’d heard about subways in lectures on human studies, but to actually ride one, confined underground, was terrifying. 

So Jeongguk is still learning, and he’s trying to take it all in, one brand of ramen at a time. And Jeongguk does, to be fair, truly love ramen.

(And he doesn’t regret not going to this club gathering when Mingyu comes back at nearly seven in the morning rather intoxicated and has a raging headache the next day, groaning miserably from his blankets.)

Jeongguk is supposed to use this time to find his place in the world. At least that’s what the head witches at the seodang told him.

“ If you’re lucky ,” one of them said, “ you’ll find your coven. ”

Jeongguk doesn’t expect to find his coven in Seoul.

He doesn’t expect to find his coven anywhere, really. 

After all, Jeongguk knows he’s a little bit different in ways that he thinks most covens won’t like. But it’s quite alright with him. Witches don’t need covens to survive, even if all the scrolls and books like to make it seem that way. Jeongguk certainly is fine without one.

So yes, Jeongguk doesn’t expect to find his coven. 

(Yet it turns out, you see, that Jeongguk’s coven finds him .)

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The Insadong Magical Art Commissions and Goods is tucked away on the second floor of an old (by human standards) building in an alley where less tourists tend to roam.

Jeongguk does inventory and works the front desk, his seniors at the shop the only witches allowed to actually make art in the back room.

It’s on his first Friday at the shop that a tall witch with broad shoulders and thick glasses perched on his nose walks into the shop.

With only a single window in the main room, the golden glow from the old fashioned lights on the walls illuminates the space and glints on the witch’s dyed blonde hair. 

“Welcome,” Jeongguk says from behind the desk, ducking into a slight bow. He has four more hours to his shift and his feet are killing him even with the healing balm he’d put on them during break. 

“Hello,” the man bobs his head in return. His elbow knocks into a pile of scrolls and Jeongguk hurries over to pick up a few that topple over. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay. We need more shelving units,” Jeongguk says quickly, trying to arrange the scrolls so they don’t fall over again. The shop is too cluttered, and despite Jeongguk’s love of keeping things tidy, there’s only so much he can do with limited space and storage. 

The man’s cheeks are still faintly pink as he rubs the back of his neck and places the last scroll on top of Jeongguk’s neatly stacked pile. 

Jeongguk can feel hints of his magic, something soft and earthy, something like vines and summer rain. It’s comfortable and gentle, and Jeongguk’s own magic tugs a little at his fingertips.

“What can we do for you today?” Jeongguk asks, stepping back out of the man’s space. His magic twitches again, itching at his palms, urging him to draw in closer to the witch. “Um, if you’re looking for any particular spell we have art divided into sections,” Jeongguk says quickly before his thoughts can further derail. 

“I was actually going to ask about a commission?” 

“Oh, yeah!” Jeongguk scurries back to the desk and pulls out the notepad beside the register. “I just need to know the art medium and what spell.”

“Do you do oil pastels here?”

“Yes,” Jeongguk says, writing it down. 

“Great. Would it be possible to commission an oil pastel with a spell for restful sleep?”

“Of course.” Jeongguk adds the note. “It might be helpful if you could tell us what things you associate with rest and relaxation. Colors, objects, weather- anything.”

“Oh,” the man says, and Jeongguk looks up from his notepad to find the man’s brow furrowed slightly. “It’s not for me. It’s a gift. I’m not sure…”

“That’s alright,” Jeongguk assures him. “We can use some common aspects of rest for it.”

The man nods before saying, “Maybe… gray blue? A cat? Rain?” 

Jeongguk adds both down, smiling slightly. It’s a thoughtful gift. “Here are our sizes and standard pricing. The spells don’t lose effectiveness with size, so it’s really up to you.” He slides over a laminated page that’s also up on their website.

The man chooses the medium size and opts to pay for a frame at the shop. 

“Got it. It should be done within a week. Please just write your information here,” Jeongguk says, now giving the man a card to file.

Their fingers brush and Jeongguk’s magic jolts at the touch. Jeongguk feels his cheeks warm but thankfully if the witch notices, he doesn’t comment.

The name on the info card is Kim Namjoon, and Kim Namjoon opts for a text alert and to pick up the painting in person.

Namjoon pays half the total now, and Jeongguk is grateful that Namjoon simply passes him a credit card rather than attempting to barter or use outdated coin. One witch yesterday tried to give Jeongguk an actual piece of gold, which Jeongguk had to decline.

“You’re all set,” Jeongguk says, handing the credit card back. “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

He looks up from the register and meets Namjoon’s eyes, sharp and soft at the same time. Namjoon quickly blinks and clears his throat, glancing away. 

“No, that’s um. That’s everything. Thank you.”

“Thank you, Namjoon-ssi,” Jeongguk says.

Namjoon blinks again before he bows and turns to leave.

He bumps into a shelf in the narrow space, automatically apologizing to it before rushing out of the shop.

Jeongguk manages not to laugh until the door closes behind him. 

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“Aren’t you tired after working all week?” Mingyu asks when he finds Jeongguk sprawled out on the floor with his paints flowering around him.

“Yeah, but this isn’t work,” Jeongguk says, his magic steadily flowing out from his fingers and into his paintbrush. “Besides, the seniors say I won’t be able to help with commissions for another five years. I’ve got to stay in practice somehow.”

Mingyu hums, and he carefully sits down beside Jeongguk with a sigh.

“Long day?” Jeongguk asks, knowing all too well how tired they’ve both been. Friday nights seem to be the time for exhaustion and relief to intertwine.

“The longest.”

Jeongguk sets his brush down in a cup of water and laughs softly. “You’ve got some flour on your cheek still.”

Mingyu waves him off. “It’s a badge of honor, honestly. What about you?”

Jeongguk wrinkles his nose. “I had a man threaten to curse me because his commission wasn’t finished, even though he knew it would take up to two weeks because he ordered the largest canvas size.”

“What did you do?”

“I got Sunmi-sunbae from the back room and she told him off for me.” Jeongguk also cried in the bathroom for ten minutes because being threatened with a curse isn’t a pleasant experience, and having to get Sunmi to stand up for him made him feel like he was too young and inexperienced to handle himself. 

Mingyu pats Jeongguk’s arm sympathetically. 

They both end up napping on the floor that night, and when they wake up, it’s only to eat ramen and go back to sleep again.

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When Namjoon comes back the next week, another witch is with him.

His hair is dyed a soft peach, and Jeongguk can feel his magic from the moment he steps inside the door, a low buzz, sweet and strong. 

“Hello,” Jeongguk greets, and his lips curl up in the corners at the way Namjoon seems to try to make himself smaller as he walks through the store to the front desk.

“Hello,” Namjoon says with a smile that looks almost tentative. Dimples appear in his cheeks at the same time the gentle pull of his magic reaches Jeongguk’s fingertips, and it’s- a lot.

“Um,” Jeongguk says, blanking for a moment.

“I came in last week to commission a sleep-spelled piece,” he says, as if Jeongguk has forgotten. “I got a message saying that I could pick up the painting now?”

“Yeah!” Jeongguk’s voice comes out a little too loudly, and the witch with peach hair beside Namjoon lets out a soft laugh. “Just a minute, I’ll get it for you.”

Jeongguk ducks into the back room where one of his seniors is currently staring intently at a blank canvas. 

Jeongguk knows better than to disturb her, and he quickly finds the painting leaning against the wall and heads back to the front desk.

“Here you are,” Jeongguk says, presenting it.

His seniors had done an amazing job. The sleep spell is definitely there, curling out invitingly. All a witch would need to do is reach out to it to fall into a peaceful rest. 

“It’s wonderful,” Namjoon says.

“I like the cat,” the shorter witch adds with a smile, and his voice is high and smoky with that same sweet buzz his magic contains.

The oil pastels make the whole painting dreamy, the scene of a cat in a window, warm glow of light from where it sits on the sill a contrast to the soft gray and blue rain before it.

“If there are any problems, I can ask the artist to speak with you about them,” Jeongguk says, his magic beginning to pulse in his fingertips for both Namjoon’s magic and the other witch’s as well, and Jeongguk makes sure he reigns it in.

“No problems. This is great, thank you,” Namjoon says.

“Maybe Yoongi-hyung will actually sleep for more than two hours now,” the other witch adds wryly. 

Jeongguk winces on this Yoongi’s behalf. “If it doesn’t seem to work effectively, or the magic is incompatible, you’re also free to bring it back here for us to rework the spell.” 

“Thank you,” Namjoon says, and he offers his card again for the other half of the payment.

The witch with the peach hair elbows him in the side.

Namjoon coughs quietly and Jeongguk, for whatever reason, feels himself blushing.

“I don’t think I ever caught your name,” Namjoon says then.

Jeongguk fumbles with the card for a moment before managing to get the chip into the reader. “Jeon Jeongguk.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Namjoon says.

“I know,” Jeongguk blurts, cheeks still growing warmer. “Um. I- the info you filled out for the commission.”

“Right,” Namjoon says.

The other witch laughs again. “And I’m Park Jimin. It’s nice to meet you, Jeongguk-ssi.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Jeongguk says quickly, bobbing his head. He hands the card back to Namjoon. “I’ll wrap up the painting for transport.”

His cheeks still feel like they’re overheated as he uses magically enforced parchment to cover the painting, gently sealing it with string horizontally and vertically.

Jimin and Namjoon’s magic seem to be wrapping together as Jeongguk works, sweetness and summer vines comfortably blending in the energy of the room. 

“Here you are,” Jeongguk says, presenting the painting to them carefully.

“Thank you,” Namjoon says again, and he gives Jeongguk another dimple-flashing smile, even though he still seems embarrassed. 

“Have a wonderful week, Jeongguk-ssi,” Jimin says, and then they’re both leaving too soon, the shop returning to its slightly musty and simple energy.

Jeongguk chews on his lip and wonders if he’ll ever see Kim Namjoon’s dimples (or hear Park Jimin’s laugh) again.

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Mingyu falls into life outside of the seodang with much more ease than Jeongguk.

It’s only been three weeks living in Seoul- two weeks of working- and Mingyu has already made friends with everyone at the bakery and even bumped into humans who asked him to go drinking with them. 

Jeongguk, on the other hand, is still mostly terrified of his seniors at work, and when a human asked him for directions on the street he hadn’t been able to provide a helpful answer.

Thus, Mingyu is out at dinner with his coworkers on a Friday night while Jeongguk is alone at the apartment again.

Jeongguk isn’t tired of instant ramen, per say, but it has lost some of its initial glamor. 

He eats in a quiet, dark apartment, and turns on the television to watch a rather dramatic episode of a romance drama. 

He falls asleep to it, waking up only when Mingyu comes home at nearly two in the morning.

Do you think I’m not fit for life outside the seodang? Jeongguk wants to ask, but doesn’t.

Instead, he moves to his own room and pulls his blankets over his head and tells himself he needs to give himself more time to figure out how all of this works.

After all, the world is big and Jeongguk is rather small in the grand scheme of things. It makes sense that it would take a little bit of patience to find where his place might be.

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Park Jihyo is the first of Jeongguk’s seniors to ask Jeongguk if he wants to help with a commission.

She’s the closest to Jeongguk in age, and she sometimes works the front desk on Jeongguk’s days off. She’s a little terrifying at times when she’s focused, but she’s also kind, and her magic is similar to Jeongguk’s in a way that’s comfortably familiar.

They talk while they work, Jeongguk mixing paints for her as she tells him about training at her seodang and about her first five years as an apprentice outside of it. 

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?” she asks, and there’s paint all over her apron, smudges of it on fingertips.

Jeongguk nods. 

They finish the painting of the sea with Jihyo’s music playing in the background, soft classical that they both end up humming along to.

It’s a good day, all things considered.

Jeongguk is still humming when he locks up the shop and walks down the stairs and into the chilly evening air.

There’s an unpleasant tinge to it, however. An energy that makes the back on the back of his neck stand up. 

Jeongguk wraps his arms around himself as he walks, frowning. He takes a few steps forward and then-

A flash of something in the darkness catches his eye as he walks down the alley, and he finds a sleek black cat perched on the wall.

Jeongguk blinks at it, and the cat blinks back, barely visible in the darkness. The air clears, the strange energy from before ebbing away. 

Jeongguk takes a cautious step forward. “Hi, kitty,” he says softly. The cat’s fur is glossy, sleek and clean. “You’re very pretty.” 

The cat continues to sit perfectly still as Jeongguk approaches.

When Jeongguk tentatively reaches out a hand, the cat merely stares at his fingers.

“Can I pet you?” Jeongguk asks, and he holds his palm out for the cat to sniff, which the cat does.

Jeongguk’s magic tingles again, almost like-

The cat jumps down on the opposite side of the wall, disappearing from sight.

Jeongguk stands with his hand still outstretched, confused as to why it felt for a few moments like the cat had magic. Maybe a witch’s familiar? 

Jeongguk makes the half hour walk back home, humming Jihyo’s classical playlist again under his breath, wondering about the cat only once more before he falls into bed.

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“Welcome,” Jeongguk calls when the door clicks open with the quiet ring of the bell.

It’s almost seven in the evening on a Wednesday, and there haven’t been any customers for the majority of the day.

It’s because of this that Jeongguk has to spring to his feet without any shoes on, his boots pulled off hours ago so he could sit with his toes tucked beneath his legs.

He just hopes the customers won’t look over the counter. Or ask for anything on a high shelf.

“Hello,” a voice answers.

It’s two witches who walk in, their magic immediately brightening the room.

“What can we do for you today?” Jeongguk asks as he wiggles his toes and considers trying to awkwardly shuffle into his boots.

“Oh, we’re just browsing,” one of the witches says. He’s beautiful, Jeongguk’s brain realizes with a bit of a lag. He’s tall with broad shoulders and dark hair that’s currently swept off his forehead.

Jeongguk’s mouth goes a little dry.

The other witch smiles, and Jeongguk’s eyes flick to him next, still overwhelmed. The brightness of the magic comes from him, Jeongguk can tell immediately. It’s like the witch from the week before- Park Jimin- in the way it buzzes. But it’s light instead of sweet, like the bottled sun drops Jeongguk had used during classes on elixir-making back at the seodang. 

Jeongguk isn’t sure he manages to smile back before the witches both begin looking around the shop.

Jeongguk uses their temporary distraction to stuff his feet into his boots, ducking behind the counter and getting one laced up before he hears a soft, “Oh, interesting.”

Jeongguk pops up again and finds the witch with magic like sun drops holding a scroll.

“It’s a replica, but it’s still spelled individually by the artists here,” Jeongguk tells him.

“The calligraphy is beautiful,” the taller witch says, and then he turns his magnetic gaze back on Jeongguk again, and now that they’re closer to the desk, Jeongguk realizes with a start his eyes are a brilliant purple.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk manages to say. “Um. Yes, the original was made back in the… in the 1600s. The witch specialized in healing writing.”

“It feels amazing,” the sun drop witch says. “Hyung, I can barely feel the muscle I pulled.”

“You should carry it with you when you’re at the studio then,” the other answers with an eye roll. “Since you ignored Jimin when he told you that you should rest for a few days.”

Jimin . Is it the same Jimin? Do they all know each other?

“How much is it?” The sun drop witch asks, coming forward to the counter. His hair is chestnut brown, a wave of it falling across his forehead as he smiles again. Jeongguk’s magic buzzes again in his hands.

“Thirty thousand won,” Jeongguk says, and his voice comes out a little strained as he tries not to let his magic out of his fingers. It’s dancing across his palms.

“Great, I’ll take it,” he answers, and he digs around in the colorful bag he has on his shoulder, fishing out the exact cash for it.

“Thank you.”

“I’m glad Namjoon recommenced the place,” the witch with purple eyes says, and Jeongguk takes in a sharp breath. They do know each other then. “You’re Jeongguk-ssi?”

Jeongguk nods, his magic still tingling under his skin.

“Kim Namjoon told us about how great the shop was, if you remember him at all.”

Jeongguk nods again. “Did he- um. The gift?”

“Yoongi loves it,” the witch answers, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I’m Kim Seokjin, by the way.”

“Jung Hoseok,” the other witch says. “Does this mean we have you to thank for Yoongi-hyung actually being able to sleep?”

“Oh, no. I didn’t make the painting. I’m just- I just work at the front desk,” Jeongguk says quickly. “But I’m glad the painting is to everyone’s liking.”

Hoseok’s smile brightens. “It definitely is.”

“Jeongguk-ssi,” Seokjin says, and Jeongguk nearly forgets to breathe when he meets Seokjin’s lavender eyes. “I work at a small cafe a few streets west of here. It’s called Take a Paws, if you’d ever like to stop by. We have bunnies, even if coffee isn’t your thing.”

“It’s my thing,” Jeongguk says quickly, only to have heat creep up the back of his neck. “I mean- yeah. I like coffee. And bunnies.”

Seokjin looks delighted by this, and Hoseok’s magic buzzes a little bit lighter.

“Maybe I’ll see you sometime, then,” Seokjin says.

The two witches leave, and Jeongguk, with only one boot laced, collapses back into his chair and presses his hands to his overwarm ears in retroactive embarrassment. 

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Jeongguk doesn’t go to Take a Paws, even though he thinks about it quite often.

On Thursday his breaks are too short and he stays late after work to help Jihyo clean the back room, and Friday he leaves straight from work to meet Mingyu for dinner at a witch’s corner ddeokbokki restaurant, bursting with magic and mouth-watering smells.

“I’m going clubbing later,” Mingyu says around a mouthful of soondae, some sauce on the corner of his mouth. “You want to come this time?”

Jeongguk considers, picking out a fish cake. “Is it…” He doesn’t know what word he’s looking for. 

“You like dancing,” Mingyu says. “You can dance there. And if you don’t like it, we’ll go home early. Sound okay?”

“Yeah.”

Mingyu orders them a bottle of soju. “You might want to have a few shots before we go.”

Jeongguk is rightly tipsy by the time they reach this club, which has loud, pulsing music and humans all pressed together beneath flashing lights.

“How do you dance to this?” Jeongguk asks, bewildered. He has to nearly yell to be heard over the noise. In his dance classes at the seodang, the music was never anything like this.

Mingyu just grins and takes his wrist, pulling him a little further into the crowd of humans.

Jeongguk holds on to Mingyu’s magic like a lifeline, familiar from their years of training together, familiar for the glittering sheen of his energy.

Jeongguk has a hard time even moving with all the people pressed around them. There’s a pretty woman with red lipstick who grins at him and Jeongguk is glad it’s dark enough to hide his inevitable blush. 

Even though he can’t dance the way he’s used to, Jeongguk moves to the rhythm of the music, slowly relaxing into the beat and deciding these kinds of songs are good, too.

At some point, Mingyu’s human friends arrive, and Mingyu gives shouted introductions before they all get more drinks at the bar.

Jeongguk, who rarely snuck alcohol into the seodang, is starting to feel a little floaty.

The night begins to blur together. Mingyu’s magic is never out of reach, but Jeongguk sees him kissing a short human with bleached blonde hair and knows, even inebriated, it would probably not be best to cling onto Mingyu while he's otherwise occupied.

So Jeongguk dances, occasionally shuffling away when someone grabs at his waist or tries to pull his arm towards them. His head starts to ache soon enough, a combination of the alcohol and the long day finally catching up to him.

When it gets to be a little too much, Jeongguk brushes past Mingyu, who is currently dancing so close to the short human Jeongguk isn’t sure they’re separate entities anymore, and yells, “I’m getting air. I’ll be back soon,” and heads toward the exit.

The dark street is significantly cooler than the club, and Jeongguk walks a few steps out into the sidewalk, breathing deeply. His head throbs again. 

A gust of wind blows past, and Jeongguk winces at the swirling, bitter energy it carries. It feels almost like anger.

Jeongguk’s magic pulls away from it, and he furrows his brow, glancing around at the few humans walking drunkenly past on the street.

The wind picks up again, but it takes the unpleasant magic with it, and Jeongguk finds a black cat staring at him from the edge of the sidewalk, peeking out from an alleyway. 

Jeongguk stares at it.

The cat just blinks at him.

Jeongguk reaches out with his magic and, yes , the cat definitely has magic of its own.

Jeongguk’s steps are slightly uncoordinated, but he tries to approach slowly. The music from the club still spills out into the street, the few people still in line talking loudly to each other.

The cat watches Jeongguk draw closer without moving, and Jeongguk squats down a fair distance from it and holds his hand out again.

“Whose familiar are you?” He asks quietly. “Are you following me?” Both times that the cat appeared, there was a sense of bitter, resentful magic around. 

The cat sniffs Jeongguk’s hand again. The magic it carries is something dark and old, but it’s not like the energy that the wind carried. If anything, it feels a little bit like the energies contained in the seodang’s old spell books and scrolls.

“You’re not following me for anything weird, are you?” Jeongguk was mostly warned about humans and their history of violence against those different from them. But he knows of bad witches, too. Of magic turned to ill purpose. 

The cat pushes its face into Jeongguk’s palm, and the dull pain in Jeongguk’s head eases. “Oh,” Jeongguk says. “Thank you.”

The cat pulls back, blinks at Jeongguk once, and then turns and pads down the alley.

Jeongguk watches it disappear into the shadows and takes a few more minutes out in the night air before he goes back into the club, Mingyu still with his lips glued to those of the short human. 

Jeongguk, however, retreats to the bar and thinks about the cat- wondering why he’s being followed. And whether or not he should be worried. And if the cat with old magic and the bitter, creepy magic he sometimes senses are connected.

But he’s also a little too tipsy to think about it much. 

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“You didn’t find anyone at the club you liked?” Mingyu asks the next afternoon, both of them waking up with hangovers and puffy faces.

Jeongguk shrugs, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth as he steps aside to let Mingyu wash his face in the sink. “How do I know if I like someone from a club?” His words are garbled, but understandable enough.

“I mean, like, someone to make out with for a bit. Or hook-up with?”

Jeongguk understands then, and he elbows Mingyu out of the way so he can spit and rinse his mouth. “I don’t really like that kind of stuff,” Jeongguk says, wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

“Huh?”

“I just… don’t,” Jeongguk says. 

“We made out once,” Mingyu tells him.

“Fifty years ago,” Jeongguk reminds him, rolling his eyes. “And that was fine because I knew you. You’re my friend. And you asked first. I don’t really think about doing that with strangers.”

“And sex?”

“Don’t want it,” Jeongguk says. It’s part of the reason he’s not trying to find a coven. That’s part of what witches do with their covens. The restorative and connective powers intimacy, apparently. They skim over it quite a bit at seodang, but Jeongguk’s never wanted to try it out for himself despite his friends all experimenting with each other near the end of their time at the seodang.

There are parts of covens that sound nice. The shared home, the magical bonds, the emotional connectedness that it brings. But if Jeongguk wants that, then the other parts of the coven would be expected of him, too. 

“Huh,” Mingyu says, and he towels his face off. “Good to know. Anyway, you want to order take-out for lunch?”

“Fried chicken,” Jeongguk says, and he pushes the thought of covens out of his head and replaces them with that of greasy comfort food.

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Jihyo sends Jeongguk out early in the afternoon on Tuesday, saying she can close up the shop on her own.

Jeongguk, standing outside the building in the afternoon sunlight, decides to try to find Take a Paws.

He walks west for three blocks and turns, and he can feel the magic after a few steps.

The cafe is on the second floor, a sign in the window with little paw prints lining the wood.

At the top of the stairs, Jeongguk takes his boots off and puts them on the rack, slipping into a pair of the cafe’s slippers.

The magic is soft as he walks inside, even though Jeongguk’s heart patters in his chest a little faster than usual at the prospect of seeing Seokjin and his lavender eyes again.

“Hello, welcome to Take a Paws,” a friendly voice says, and then it is none other than Seokjin and his aforementioned lavender eyes appearing from what must be the kitchen. “Oh, Jeongguk-ssi- it’s wonderful to see you.”

Jeongguk bows quickly. “Seokjin-ssi. It’s good to see you, too.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Seokjin says, a wave of his magic washing over Jeongguk, light and gentle. “What can I get for you? You said you liked coffee?”

Jeongguk doesn’t know how or why Seokjin remembered. He’s impressed Seokjin even remembered his name. He nods. “Just black coffee, please.”

“Coming right up. The rabbit’s are in the corner- just wash your hands at the sink over there before you go over.”

Seokjin heads back into the kitchen, the thin purple fabric room separator fluttering after him.

Jeongguk glances at the corner of the cafe and finds, bathed in soft sunlight, three rabbits hopping around, a see-through wire gate keeping them from hopping around the cafe completely, but still giving them ample space.

There’s only one other witch in the cafe, a woman with magic fluttering quietly in the space around her as she reads a book at a table in the back, glasses slipping down the bridge of her nose. 

Jeongguk washes his hands as instructed before going over to the bunnies and sitting on the floor beside him, the wood panels warm from the sun beneath him.

“Hi, little ones,” Jeongguk tells them. “How are you doing?”

The biggest one hops over to Jeongguk, nose wiggling.

Jeongguk giggles, carefully lowering his hand on the other side of the gate. 

He touches the soft fur of the bunny’s back, petting gently.

A finger taps on Jeongguk’s shoulder, and he jolts in surprise.

There’s a man squatting next to him, long brown hair and a stunningly beautiful face. He smiles slightly.

“Um-” Jeongguk starts and doesn’t know how to continue.

The man, who’s wearing the same off-white apron that Seokjin had on, reaches for the bunny and lifts it before plopping it down on Jeongguk’s lap.

“Oh,” Jeongguk says, his eyes widening. The bunny scuffles for a moment on Jeongguk’s jeans before settling, and Jeongguk gently strokes its back again. “Thank you.”

The man smiles at him, his eyes curving, the shape of his lips turning a little rectangular. 

Jeongguk barely feels his magic, a quiet energy that’s walled off to him almost completely.

The magic in Jeongguk’s hands seems agitated at this, pulsing gently in his fingers, wanting to feel the man’s magic for itself. Jeongguk carefully prods it back.

The man doesn’t seem like he’s going to say anything, so Jeongguk doesn’t try to fill the silence with any of his own awkward ramblings. Instead, he pets the bunny gently.

“One black coffee,” Seokjin’s voice calls, and Jeongguk looks up to find him walking over, holding a mug with steam curling from the top.

“Thank you,” Jeongguk says.

“Ah, keep the bunny. I’ll put it over here for you,” Seokjin says, placing the mug on the nearest table.

He joins Jeongguk and the other man on the floor, and Jeongguk at once wishes he’d put on some of the foundation he’d bought during his first week in Seoul.

Seokjin and the other witch are just- gorgeous. Jeongguk is acutely aware of his pores in this exact moment.

“Jeongguk-ssi, this is Taehyung. He helps me with the cafe some days.”

Taehyung smiles again, ducking his head.

“Hello, Taehyung-ssi,” Jeongguk says quietly, bowing the best he can while sitting down with the bunny on his lap. 

Taehyung laughs, and his voice is beautiful, deep and low. He looks at Seokjin and seems to roll his eyes.

“Yeah. Taehyung thinks you should just call both of us hyung, if you’d like.”

“Oh,” Jeongguk says, and he doesn’t think he’s called anyone hyung since he left the seodang. “Thank you. Please speak to me comfortably.”

Another bunny has hopped over to the grate, staring almost expectantly at Seokjin.

Seokjin shuffles over closer and picks the bunny up, cradling it in his hands. “This is Pig,” he says, “who constantly tries to steal the others’ food. The one you’re holding is Cloud. And the one currently sleeping over there is Bean.”

“They’re cute,” Jeongguk says, gently petting Cloud’s ears. 

“They’re little deviant gremlins,” Seokjin sniffs.

Taehyung laughs again, and Jeongguk finds himself warming at the sound as much as he does the sunlight. 

“But cute,” Jeongguk says again.

Seokjin laughs this time too, and Jeongguk finds himself grinning, ducking his head to hide his smile.

“You’re an apprentice, right?”

Jeongguk nods, looking back up again. “Yes. I’ve only been here for a little over a month now.”

Taehyung hums in what sounds like sympathy, reaching to pet Cloud on Jeongguk’s lap. Jeongguk tries not to let his magic get too excited about the proximity.

“And art is your medium?” Seokjin asks.

“Yes, but I’m not making art at the shop yet,” he says, watching Taehyung’s long fingers pet Cloud’s back. He’s just dealing with customers, sometimes kind and sometimes extremely unpleasant. He still hasn’t forgotten about the customer that threatened him with a curse in his first week.

“It took my seniors ages to let me do anything on my own when I was fresh out of seodang too,” Seokjin says with a scoff. “I would sneak around at night practicing.”

“What’s your medium, Seokjin-ssi? Ah- Um. Seokjin-hyung.”

Seokjin just smiles at Jeongguk’s bumbling. “It’s a form of natural magic. I apprenticed at a magical creature rescue for my five years.”

“Wow,” Jeongguk breathes, feeling his eyes widen. “So you’ve seen magical creatures? Like imugi? Have you ever met a haetae?”

Seokjin’s lips stay curled up in the corners, but something in his eyes turns sad. “Unfortunately imgui and haetae were hunted to extinction years ago.”

Taehyung puts his hand on Seokjin’s arm. 

“Oh,” Jeongguk says, and he strokes Cloud’s side. He’d read about the power of imugi- the justice of the haetae. “I thought most humans couldn’t usually see them.”

“They were hunted by witches,” Seokjin says softly. Pig squirms in his hands and Seokjin carefully sets him down again. 

“That’s horrible,” he murmurs. The seodang doesn’t include that in their lectures on magical creatures- they just say that they’re disappearing, or that humans have hunted them for prizes. Witches are supposed to be protectors of magical creatures, after all.

“It is,” Seokjin says before clearing his throat. “Anyway, I think your coffee might get cold if you wait much longer to drink it.”

Jeongguk nods, and Taehyung helps Jeongguk put Cloud back behind the gate.

Seokjin and Taehyung disappear back into the kitchen and Jeongguk drinks his coffee, still pleasantly warm. Jeongguk watches Pig and Cloud hop around in the sun, wondering what else his seodang never told him. 

Taehyung returns a few minutes later with a piece of cake, setting it down on the table in front of Jeongguk.

“I didn’t-”

Taehyung shakes his head, smiling slightly.

“Oh. Thank you,” Jeongguk says quickly.

Taehyung’s smile brightens, and Jeongguk finds himself memorizing it to draw later.

He finishes the cake, chocolate and cherry, along with his coffee and goes to pay at the counter where Seokjin is currently standing, typing something on his phone.

Jeongguk takes his wallet out from the pocket of his jeans, but Seokjin just looks up and says, “No charge.”

Jeongguk feels his mouth fall open. “I can’t not pay.”

“Yes you can. It’s my cafe, after all. And I asked you to drop by,” Seokjin tells him. He tilts his head to the side and pushes out his full lips like he’s deep in thought. “You could always come back again, though, to see me. Only if you’d like to, of course.”

Is Seokjin flirting with him?

Jeongguk blinks rapidly as his magic dances across his palms, and he finds his cheeks heating as he answers, “Only if you’ll let me pay next time.”

“I’ve never seen someone turn down free coffee before,” Seokjin says. “Alright. Coffee’s on you after this, then. Have a good week, Jeongguk.”

“Have a good week. Hyung,” Jeongguk adds, and his magic buzzes happily at this. “And um. Please tell Taehyung I said goodbye?”

Seokjin’s lavender eyes crinkle with his smile. “Will do.”

↡

Jeongguk has had a very shitty day.

It was weirdly busy for a Monday, the customers were rude and impatient, one witch bumped into a shelf of woodblock prints and Jeongguk had to spend nearly an hour organizing and putting them back into their proper spots. Then one of Jeongguk’s seniors yelled at him for not knowing he was in charge of magically cleansing the shop’s energy each week, which is part of the reason the shop has felt musty recently. Of course, no one had actually told Jeongguk this, but fighting back tears, Jeongguk wasn’t about to tell his senior this.

So Jeongguk, by the time he’s locking up, is tired and sad and is already planning on taking a long shower during which he will have a nice, cathartic cry, and after he’ll ask Mingyu if he has any extra face masks they can do together.

But Jeongguk only makes it about two steps down the alley before a wave of bitter, acrid magic washes over him in the darkness.

Jeongguk’s body shudders, and he immediately pulls his magic away from the resentful energy smothering him, stumbling to a stop.

He coughs, his eyes watering, and shakes his arms, trying to keep the energy from sticking to his skin.

Fuck , what did he learn about removing negative energies in the seodang? 

Jeongguk coughs again, shivering as the magic begins to seep into his skin.

He needs- he needs candles infused with positive energy. But who carries those around? Shit, shit. He digs for his phone in his coat pocket, his hands shaking and vision swimming as he squints at the screen.

There’s a loud hiss, and Jeongguk nearly drops his phone.

The black cat is hissing at him, ears back and tail fluffed, brilliant yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

Jeongguk shivers violently, but the magic coating his body seems to pull back, though it takes Jeongguk a step back with it.

The cat growls, prowling forward, the energy from it far more powerful than whatever is trying to freeze Jeongguk.

The resentful energy jerks away again, and this time Jeongguk plants his feet and feels it peeling away from him, swirling back into the night air.

With another hiss from the cat, the bitter magic disappears on the breeze.

Jeongguk’s breath trembles when he inhales, and the cat’s ears perk up again, the growling and hissing cutting off.

“Thank you,” Jeongguk manages to say. His hands are still shaking, and the cat lets out a soft trill before padding toward Jeongguk, winding around his ankles, purring.

Jeongguk’s shivers lessen, though he still feels oddly empty, his magic curled beneath his ribs rather than his hands. It leaves him cold and all too vulnerable. “You’ve been keeping whatever that was away from me, haven’t you?” He realizes quietly. 

The cat purrs a little bit louder before padding a few steps away from Jeongguk. It quirks its tail, and Jeongguk asks, “You want me to follow?”

The cat chirps.

Jeongguk takes a slow breath before nodding, wrapping his arms around himself. As the cat leads him down the alley, he wonders if he’s just traded dying a death by bitter, resentful magic for dying a death by following a cat into some demon lair. But he thinks he trusts the cat. After all, it chased the resentful magic away.

A few streets go by, no human glancing twice at the black cat, and Jeongguk wonders if they’re unable to see.

It’s when Jeongguk feels a familiar magic that he realizes the cat’s brought him to Take a Paws, and Jeongguk frowns as he walks up the stairs behind the cat. “Are you Seokjin’s familiar?” he asks.

Predictably, the cat does not answer.

There are voices on the second-floor landing, and Jeongguk finds Seokjin locking up the cafe along with another witch.

“Gloss?” The witch says as the cat lets out a sharp meow.

“Jeongguk?” Seokjin asks, blinking in surprise as he turns to face the stairs.

“Seokjin-hyung,” Jeongguk murmurs, unsure of how to explain his appearance.

The three witches and the cat all stare at each other for a moment before the cat meows again, and then jumps from the floor to the unfamiliar witch’s shoulder with supernatural grace.

“Oh,” the witch says, and he frowns. His hair is silver, his eyes cat-like and sleepy as he looks at Jeongguk. “Hyung, he just came into contact with a curse.”

Seokjin’s eyes widen. “A curse? Jeongguk, are you alright?” He steps forward, one of his hands immediately reaching for Jeongguk’s wrist, which he turns over, pressing his fingers to Jeongguk’s pulse point.

“I’m okay,” Jeongguk says, but doesn’t pull away. He can faintly feel Seokjin’s magic even though his own is still gnarled up in a terrified knot in his chest. “It went away. The cat- um, Gloss- helped me.”

Gloss purrs, pressing its face into the witch’s cheek.

The witch pats the cat absently. “You’re lucky he was there,” the witch says quietly. His voice is low, a little growly.

“Let’s get you something warm to drink,” Seokjin says, gently pulling away from Jeongguk. 

Jeongguk’s knees are still not particularly steady, but his brain is back to functioning at least a little more normally. “It’s alright, hyung. I’m sorry, I just- I followed Gloss back here. I don’t want to trouble you-”

“You were hit with a curse only a few minutes ago, kid,” the unfamiliar witch tells him as Seokjin unlocks the door to the cafe again. “It’s a shitty experience for anyone. You could probably do with some tea.”

Jeongguk opens his mouth to protest some more, but Gloss meows again and fixes Jeongguk with a slow-blink. 

“Come on, Jeongguk-ah,” Seokjin says, pushing the door open. He flicks on the lights, and Jeongguk fumbles with the laces on his boots, his fingers numb and uncoordinated.

He gets them off after a moment of struggling and follows Seokjin inside, the other witch and Gloss going after him.

“I have some ginger honey tea. Just sit down for a moment with Yoongi and I’ll boil the water for you,” Seokjin says, disappearing into the kitchen.

The bunnies are sleeping in a pile of white and brown fur in their corner, and Jeongguk bites his lower lip as the other witch- Yoongi- takes the initiative of plopping down at the nearest table, Gloss still balancing easily on his shoulder.

Jeongguk joins him, sinking into the chair across from Yoongi. His magic stirs gently as it takes in Yoongi’s energy, the same dark and old power that Gloss carries.

“Your, um. Your familiar has been following me for a while,” Jeongguk says quietly, looking at Gloss as the cat hops down from Yoongi’s shoulder and onto the table, licking a paw.

“Has he?” Yoongi’s lips curl a little further down in the corners, the same pink of Gloss’ toe-pads. “Lil’ weirdo.”

Gloss swivels his head around to glare at Yoongi, and Jeongguk lets out a small laugh. 

“I guess I’m glad,” Jeongguk says. “I don’t know what I would’ve done tonight without him.”

Yoongi leans a little further back in his chair. “You know anything about the curse that hit you? Gloss said it was a nasty piece of work.”

Jeongguk shakes his head. “I’ve felt it twice before, but both times Gloss was there and it just kind of… moved on.”

Yoongi hums, his voice crackly and low. “And unbound curse. Trickier because they’re harder to catch and dispel, shittier because they can hit at random times.”

“I thought most unbound curses only followed specific people,” Jeongguk says. “Wasn’t this… well, I thought it was just some cursed resentful energy.”

Gloss meows, and Yoongi sighs. “Gloss is sure it was an unbound curse.”

Jeongguk swallows uncomfortably. “Then that means someone cursed me ?”

“Seems like it,” Yoongi says. “Any idea of who might have a grudge against you?”

“Um,” Jeongguk says. When his brother was at the seodang with him, Jeongguk put a frog on his pillow once. And he made his senior mad at him today because he hadn’t been properly cleaning the store’s energy, but that was far too recent. There were some other witches who hadn’t liked Jeongguk for whatever reason in the seodang, but he can’t imagine them tracking him down in Seoul and cursing him, either. 

And then Jeongguk thinks of the angry witch during his first week of work who threatened to curse Jeongguk if his commission, which was supposed to take two weeks, was not finished within the hour.

Jeongguk realizes rather miserably that he’s likely been cursed by a customer.

Seokjin surfaces from the kitchen with a tray, three mugs on it, and joins Yoongi and Jeongguk at the table. “For now what matters is that you’re safe,” Seokjin says. “Gloss, could you at least move to the chair?”

Gloss gives Seokjin a rather impetuous stare as Seokjin distributes the mugs before gracefully leaping down to the other chair, his head just high enough to allow him to peer over the edge of the table.

Jeongguk wraps his hands around his tea, warmth bleeding back into his palms, urging his magic a little further out of his chest, into his arms. “The curse will come back then, won’t it?”

Seokjin and Yoongi share a look before Yoongi nods. “Until it’s caught and broken.”

Jeongguk tries to suppress another shiver and fails. 

“Has it ever entered your home?” Yoongi asks. “Any building?”

Jeongguk shakes his head.

“That’s good. It means it likely can only reach you in neutral areas,” Yoongi says, and he runs a long, bony finger along the rim of his mug. “Still needs to be caught and dispelled, though.”

“Yoongi used to be a curse-breaker,” Seokjin explains before taking a sip from his own mug. 

Jeongguk feels his eyes widen. “Wow,” he breathes. Curse-Breakers are the stuff of legends at the seodang. Only one student from Jeongguk’s year tried to study it, curses notoriously tricky and rare.

Yoongi snorts. “It’s much less impressive than it sounds. Anyway, I’ll give you my number, and if you run into the energy again, give me a call.”

“Oh, I-”

“Jeongguk-ah,” Seokjin interrupts gently, and he sets his tea back down on the table. “Curses are serious. Tonight it was lucky that Gloss was around, but next time, please call Yoongi, okay?”

Jeongguk is all too aware that curses are serious, his magic just now starting to flow back down his arms again. “I know. Thank you. For offering to help me.”

“Thank me after we get this thing taken care of,” Yoongi says. “Unbound curses are always a pain in the ass. You have someone to walk you home?”

“I don’t mind walking back alone,” Jeongguk says quickly. Mingyu has probably already gone home for the night, and Jeongguk doesn’t want to call him out again.

Seokjin and Yoongi both frown at him.

Gloss puts a paw on the table, and all eyes turn to him instead.

“Gloss will go with you,” Yoongi says, then, with a snort. “He says he won’t take no for an answer.”

Jeongguk finds himself smiling at that. “Okay. Thank you, Gloss.”

Gloss gives Jeongguk a slow blink.

Jeongguk exchanges numbers with Yoongi and with Seokjin, who tells him, “just in case,” and then Seokjin takes their mugs back and locks up again.

Jeongguk is sure to thank Yoongi and Seokjin again anyway as he laces his boots back up, Gloss winding around his ankles.

↡

“You’re home late,” Mingyu says.

“Yeah.” Jeongguk pulls a bowl of ramen out of the cabinet. “Apparently I’m cursed.”

Mingyu shakes his head, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. “Jeon Jeongguk, how did you manage that?”

Jeongguk shrugs. “The perks of customer service?”

Mingyu winces on his behalf, asks if there’s anything he can do to help, and when Jeongguk says he could use a distraction, Mingyu introduces him to these things called memes.

Rather than dwell on the curse, Jeongguk decides to fully immerse himself into memes instead.

It seems like a wise choice.

↡

A letter comes in from Jeongguk’s parents, asking how he’s doing at the shop and if he’s happy in Seoul. They also ask if he’s met anyone who he thinks he might want to form a coven with, but Jeongguk decides to conveniently forget to answer that particular part in his own response. 

When Mingyu goes on a date with a human later in the week, apparently the same short blonde man from the club, Jeongguk pulls out his phone and searches “memes about being alone” and spends about half an hour laughing at them until he realizes that they’re actually making him sad. 

He clicks over to Seokjin’s contact information, their only conversation being Seokjin asking Jeongguk if he got home safely and Jeongguk answering yes, he did.

Jeongguk rolls over on his stomach, sheet twisting around his waist.

He types up a message for Seokjin. He types up several, actually, asking how Seokjin is doing, if the bunnies are well, if the cafe is busy.

He doesn’t send any.

↡

Jeongguk feels Jimin’s magic before he sees him, the shop flooding with a wave of sweet magic before the bell above the door rings.

“Welcome,” Jeongguk says, his voice coming out a little breathless as his own magic sparks excitedly in his fingers.

Jimin smiles. “Hello, Jeongguk-ssi.”

“Jimin-ssi,” Jeongguk answers automatically, unsure of why there’s heat creeping up the back of his neck but all too keenly aware of it anyway. “Um, can I help you look for anything today?”

Jimin shakes his head. “I’m actually just here to drop something off for you,” he says as he walks toward the front desk. His magic sweeps along with him, sweeter and sweeter.

Jeongguk’s energy practically leaps from his hands, mingling with Jimin’s magic, and Jeongguk flushes harder. “Sorry, um, your energy is just- it’s…”

Jimin laughs. “It’s okay. I don’t mind at all. Yours is really nice.” He stops on the other side of the desk just as Jeongguk manages to reign his magic back in. “Yoongi sent me here with this.”

Jeongguk blinks in surprise at the little silver bracelet Jimin pulls out from his pocket, a thin chain with a clasp. The energy in it is quiet, thrumming softly. But what Jeongguk can feel from it, surrounded by Jimin’s magic, is something steady and unbending.

“It’s a protection spell?” Jeongguk asks.

Jimin nods. “Yoongi said it’ll help take the edge of the curse whenever you encounter it next.”

There are about thirty questions that pop up in Jeongguk’s head with that. Why does Yoongi care enough to send me this? Why did you bring it? How do you and Yoongi and Namjoon and Seokjin all know each other? Do you know Hoseok and Taehyung too, then? Oh, fuck, when am I going to run into the curse next?

Instead all that comes out of Jeongguk’s mouth is. “Oh. Um.”

“Let me help you put it on,” Jimin says, unclasping it. When Jeongguk doesn’t move, he arches an eyebrow.

Jeongguk quickly sticks out his left wrist.

Jimin clasps it quickly, his fingers brushing against Jeongguk’s skin. “There you are.”

“Can I… can I give Yoongi any money for this?” Jeongguk asks uncertainly. “Or- I don’t know how to thank you.”

Jimin shakes his head. “It’s not a big deal. We all try to look out for each other.”

“Oh,” Jeongguk says again, feeling rather foolish again. He really doesn’t understand life outside of the seodang it all, it seems, humans and witches alike. 

“I’ll see you around, Jeongguk-ssi,” Jimin tells him, and with another smile, he leaves the shop, taking the sweet buzz of his magic with him.

Jeongguk pulls out his phone and messages Yoongi, thank you for the protective spell.  

He thinks about sending a smiling face emoji with it like he’s seen Mingyu done when he messages humans, but he’s not sure if that would be strange.

A few minutes later, Jeongguk receives the answer, No problem. Have you run into the curse again?

Not yet, Jeongguk types back. Then, something at the back of his head not wanting the conversation to end, he says, How are you doing?

Fine, Yoongi answers, then, Actually tired as fuck. You?

Jeongguk lets out a surprised laugh at that. Also tired. 

Yeah. I’m going to the cafe after work today.

Jeongguk stares at the message. Is that an invitation? Or just a statement? Jeongguk squints at his phone, frowning, and messages Mingyu, How did the human ask you on a date?

A customer comes in and Jeongguk has to set his phone down, taking the woman’s order for a commission. As soon as she’s on her way out the door, Jeongguk scrabbles for his phone and sees Mingyu’s answer first, simply reading, ???

Jeongguk wrinkles his nose in frustration, then finds that Seokjin has messaged him as well. Jeongguk taps the text open, reading, Hi Jeongguk, I hope you’re having a good day at work~ If you want to come to the cafe today, I think the bunnies would be happy to see you again.

“Huh,” Jeongguk breathes softly. A weird coincidence, but now he does actually have a direct invitation to go hang out at the cafe. To Seokjin, Jeongguk sends, I’d be happy to see the bunnies again, hyung! I’ll stop by after work.

To Yoongi, Jeongguk types, I’m going later, too. Maybe I’ll see you there?

Seokjin is the first to answer, a simple, don’t you want to see me, too?

Jeongguk blushes, types back, just the bunnies , and finds himself giggling at the slew of angry-face emojis Seokjin sends in return.

↡

Jeongguk finds himself going to the cafe quite a bit after work.

Since it’s after hours, Seokjin never lets Jeongguk pay, so Jeongguk gradually stops trying. It’s nice- to be cared for in the way that Seokjin looks out for him. 

Yoongi is there most nights, quiet and sleepy-eyed. He talks more and more though, and Jeongguk learns that he currently works at a magical item repair shop, having quit curse-breaking nearly thirty years before.

Jeongguk also learns that Yoongi’s gums show when he smiles, that Seokjin is the only person who the bunnies will do tricks for, that Gloss doesn’t allow most people to touch him and Jeongguk is the exception.

And some nights, Seokjin and Yoongi’s friends are there as well. Hoseok, bringing his brightness, turns up on a Thursday evening in sweatpants, a sheen across his skin that makes him glow even as he collapses into a chair, still breathing heavily. Jimin follows him inside, also dressed in work-out clothes, grinning and sweating.

Jeongguk learns from this that Jimin and Hoseok teach humans dance, their magic channeled through movement. He sees them kiss too, Hoseok pressing his lips to Jimin’s in a short, simple thank you when Jimin brings him a cup of water from the cafe’s kitchen. Jeongguk looks away blushing as he realizes the two of them must share a coven, or at least seem close to starting one together.

Taehyung is there on a Tuesday night along with Namjoon, though Taehyung remains just as silent as before. He types messages on his phone to show Jeongguk, asking, how is work going? And later in the night, do you watch anime? Namjoon asks Jeongguk all about his art and listens and follows up with questions, and Jeongguk’s magic thrives under the attention, trying to climb off his fingertips toward Namjoon as they sit on the floor playing with the bunnies.

From this, Jeongguk learns that Namjoon works as an elixir compound researcher at a small experimental company, that Taehyung’s face lights up when Jeongguk asks for anime recommendations, that Namjoon blushes easily when the others tease him, that Taehyung sometimes opens his mouth like he wants to speak before closing it again with something sad in his eyes.

“You seem happier,” Mingyu says one night. “Your magic is always humming when you come back from the cafe.”

Jeongguk rubs his fingers together and finds his magic is, indeed, humming.

And he thinks he is, all things considered, pretty happy as well.

↡

Jeongguk has never been a particularly fearful person, anxious thoughts aside.

He’s not afraid of the dark or heights or bugs, that is, but his mind can take small things like his senior sighing at something and decide that this means he’s frustrated at Jeongguk for reasons that have yet to reveal themselves.

Jeongguk isn’t a particularly fearful person, and maybe that’s why, especially with the protective spell on his wrist, Jeongguk doesn’t think much about the unbound curse.

Or he doesn’t think about it much until he’s walking back from the convenience store with a bag full of ramen and shrimp chips on a Saturday evening, Mingyu off on another date with the tiny blonde human. 

The street the apartment building is on isn’t very wide, parked cars lining the one-way path. The walk back home is uphill, and Jeongguk is whistling quietly to himself, swinging his convenience store sack as he goes.

He’s nearly halfway there when the protective spell on his wrist tightens, jolting closer to his skin, going from cool metal to warm, activated magic in only two heartbeats.

Jeongguk starts walking faster.

He feels the curse hit him from behind, curling around his back as a cold, bitter wind carries it forward. 

Fuck, Jeongguk thinks as the curse begins to drape itself over him, coating his arms, seeping beneath into his clothes and freezing his skin.

He hears something hit the pavement and vaguely registers that he dropped his bag of ramen and chips, but it’s not really his priority at the moment as his magic shrinks away from the curse and his limbs start shaking, his knees threatening to buckle beneath him. 

A dog barks somewhere behind him, and Jeongguk, wheezing slightly as the curse wraps around his chest, wishes it was a hiss instead, wishes that Gloss was here again-

Yoongi.

Jeongguk reaches for his phone, pulling up Yoongi’s contact information as the protective spell on his wrist goes from warm to nearly burning, blazing against his skin, sending currents of energy down his arm, forcing the curse away from it.

Jeongguk presses call, his breath coming in sharp bursts, squeezing his eyes shut as the curse presses down on his chest.

“Jeongguk?”

“It’s here,” Jeongguk gasps, and his voice is high and scared and breathless, but considering his knees give out the next moment, he doesn’t have the semblance of mind to be embarrassed. “The curse. Hyung-”

“I’m coming,” Yoongi says, and in the background he hears someone ask what’s wrong. “Just focus on the bracelet.”

Jeongguk can really only feel the heat from it, everything else going numb. “Okay,” he manages.

“Stay on the phone with me. I haven’t used transportation magic in a while, so keep talking. Need to hear your voice.”

“Okay,” Jeongguk says again, and the curse has covered him completely, nothing but bitterness in the dark, his vision clouded as he tips over on his knees and falls to his side on the pavement. 

“Jeongguk? Jeongguk-ah, talk to me,” Yoongi says, but his voice is far away.

“I can’t see anything,” Jeongguk whispers, and his hand is shaking too hard to hold the phone, only aware that it falls from his unfeeling fingers when he hears it clatter to the ground. “Why can’t I see anything?”

“Almost got it.” Yoongi sounds farther away now, crackling through the dropped phone. “You’re going to be okay. I’m almost there, just keep talking.”

“‘m scared.”

“I’ve got you.” Yoongi’s voice is there, and then old magic is washing over Jeongguk in waves, the warmth on Jeongguk’s wrist spreading up his arm. “I've got you. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Jeongguk’s lungs expand, and he coughs as he gasps for clean, uncursed air. 

“Jeongguk-ah?”

There are arms around him, the curse bleeding away, acrid magic dripping off his skin. “Yoongi-hyung,” he murmurs.

“Right here. The curse is broken. It won’t come back again,” Yoongi says quickly.

Jeongguk shivers, but feeling ebbs back to him. There’s fabric against his cheek along with tears, and as his vision returns he realizes he’s cradled in Yoongi’s arms, his face pressed into Yoongi’s chest.

He’s too exhausted to be embarrassed, just breathing heavily as Yoongi holds him, both of them kneeling on the pavement in the dark.

“Can you feel your magic still?” Yoongi asks quietly, and Jeongguk nods into Yoongi’s thin jacket. It's faint, but it's there. “You should shower. Get off any of the residual resentful energy.”

Jeongguk nods again, though this time he leans back, palms meeting the cool ground. “Thank you,” he croaks.

Yoongi shakes his head. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. I don’t- I haven’t done transportation magic in a while.”

“That’s okay, hyung,” Jeongguk says, and he clambers unsteadily to his feet, Yoongi rising as well, his hands hovering as if he’s ready to catch Jeongguk if he stumbles. “I think I’d be… you know. If you hadn’t come.”

Yoongi grimaces, the streetlight catching on his silver hair, shadowing his eyes. “It wasn’t a killing curse. But we can talk about that later. Is your home close?”

Jeongguk nods, pointing. “Just up the hill.”

Yoongi looks at Jeongguk and clears his throat. “I’ll walk you.”

Jeongguk isn’t about to turn down the offer. He picks up his phone and the sack of ramen and snacks from where he’d dropped it and begins walking, Yoongi falling in step beside him.

They don’t speak, but Yoongi’s presence, even though Jeongguk can’t reach out and feel his magic as he’s used to doing, is assuring.

When they reach the outer door of the complex, Jeongguk turns back to face Yoongi.

“I-”

“Is-”

They both break off, and Yoongi rubs the back of his neck. 

“I’m sorry for calling you here,” Jeongguk says. “But thank you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Yoongi answers, and he sighs quietly. “Curses can really shake you up. Is your roommate at least home?” 

Jeongguk shakes his head. “He’s out.”

Yoongi frowns. “Are you okay with being alone right now?” 

Jeongguk’s magic is still knotted and twisted near his heart, making it feel like the numbness of the curse is still clinging to him. His hands are still shaking as well. 

“You know,” Yoongi says, gesturing at Jeongguk’s convenience store bag. “I can make pretty good instant ramen.”

Jeongguk laughs in surprise, but he feels tears spring to his eyes along with it. Ah, he thinks, vaguely reminded of how, when he broke his elbow playing neolttwigi one summer at the seodang, he didn’t cry until one of the healer witches was actually trying to set his arm.

“Please make ramen for me, hyung,” Jeongguk says, wiping his face with a trembling hand.

Yoongi just nods. 

↡

When Jeongguk steps out of the shower, changed into a clean pair of sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt, he can smell the spicy ramen broth.

He also hears voices.

Jeongguk blinks in confusion, leaving his towel around his shoulders as he steps into the living room, and, through the doorway to the kitchen, sees a glimpse of Jimin’s peach hair, Seokjin’s side-profile, Taehyung sitting at the table, Hoseok with a rare serious expression, and Namjoon, whose eyes widen in surprise behind his glasses when he sees Jeongguk like he’s the one shocked to see Jeongguk in his own apartment.

He doesn’t even know how they’re all fitting into the tiny kitchen.

“Jeongguk,” Namjoon says quickly. “How are you feeling?”

“Um. Better?”

Yoongi squeezes out of the doorway, the others all trailing behind. “Sorry, Jeongguk-ah. Jimin heard me on the phone earlier and called everyone and they were all worried. And invited themselves over.”

“You sent the address,” Jimin fires back.

Jeongguk just stares blankly. “My kitchen’s really small,” he finds himself saying. 

“It is,” Seokjin’s voice calls. “But Yoongi made ramen.”

Gloss, trotting out from the kitchen, winds himself around Jeongguk’s ankles. 

So Jeongguk finds himself with six other witches crammed into his living room, which is at least a little more spacious than the kitchen.

They’re all sitting on the floor, since Mingyu and Jeongguk opted for cushions rather than a couch, and they’re all talking about unrelated things like the dance class Hoseok taught this morning and how Namjoon is going to dye his hair a new color tomorrow, courtesy of Jimin.

Gloss is on Jeongguk’s lap, and Taehyung is sitting close enough to Jeongguk that their arms brush whenever Jeongguk leans over the floor-table to eat more of his ramen. 

Hoseok is on Jeongguk’s other side, the brightness of his magic a beacon for Jeongguk’s own depleted, knotted-up energy.

Taehyung holds out his phone to Jeongguk.

How are you feeling?

“Better,” Jeongguk says quietly, trying to offer Taehyung a smile.

Taehyung’s deadpan expression reveals that he isn’t impressed.

“Kind of… empty,” Jeongguk continues. “A little cold.”

Taehyung leans a little bit into Jeongguk and types out, is this okay?

Jeongguk nods. “It’s good,” he says, and he lets himself relax into the warmth of Taehyung’s side. “Thank you.”

Don’t thank me, I like cuddling. 

Jeongguk smiles at that. “Me too.”

“-best hair color was purple,” Jimin is saying.

“You’re just saying that because you chose it,” Seokjin answers.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Namjoon asks, seemingly bewildered. 

“You always say your favorite is black,” Jimin tells him, clearly unimpressed. 

Hoseok laughs, and his leg brushes against Jeongguk’s as he stretches. “Because Namjoonie looks great with dark hair, too.” 

Namjoon grins shyly at that, dimples popping.

Jeongguk’s eyes zero in on them, and then Hoseok folds his legs under him again and Jeongguk looks back at him and his dimples and feels a little bit dizzy.

“I like the blonde,” Jeongguk blurts.

The room goes quiet for a moment before Seokjin says, “Ah, Namjoon-ah, you’ve got someone voting for you not to dye it tomorrow at all.”

Heat rises to Jeongguk’s cheeks and he suddenly wishes he still had ramen to eat so he could have a mouthful of food and be unable to speak. “No! No, I just- Namjoon-hyung should dye his hair whatever color he wants. But the blonde is, um, pretty. Hyung looks cool.”

Hoseok is cackling beside him, Taehyung’s low giggle shaking Jeongguk slightly since he’s leaning on Taehyung’s shoulder.

Namjoon’s face is pink, but he says very sincerely, “Thank you, Jeongguk-ah.”

Jeongguk ducks his head and covers his too-warm ears. Gloss looks up at him and seems to be amused by Jeongguk’s suffering.

Seokjin half-changes the subject to collecting votes on everyone’s favorite hair color on Jimin, and this time, Jeongguk keeps his mouth shut so he doesn’t blurt out that he thinks Jimin’s current peach hair matches perfectly with the sweetness of his magic.

Instead, Taehyung and Jeongguk talk about the anime Jeongguk started last week under Taehyung’s recommendation, Taehyung ending up with his chin hooked over Jeongguk’s shoulder as they talk, Taehyung’s phone passed back and forth between them.

Jeongguk’s magic unfurls slowly.

Taehyung’s energy is so muted that Jeongguk doesn’t realize it at first, but then he senses Hoseok’s brightness humming beside him. After that is Namjoon’s, a protective curl of vines that weaves around the room, circling behind Jeongguk. Then there’s the sweet energy radiating from Jimin, the old magic that has a slow rhythm that likely beats with Yoongi’s heart, echoed in Gloss. And lastly comes the soft brush of Seokjin’s magic, gentle and soothing.

Jeongguk’s magic rolls back to his fingers, prodding to be let out.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Hoseok says, when Jeongguk’s eyes are beginning to droop, warm from Taehyung’s body heat against his side and Gloss’ in his lap. “It’s okay to let your magic out with us.”

Jeongguk nods sleepily, and he finds his lips curling up as he stops holding back. His magic dances from his fingers, skittering across the room like a puppy rolling in the energy of the other witches.

“Falling asleep?” A voice says.

Jeongguk opens his eyes, peering blearily up at Seokjin’s face. “Sorry,” he mumbles, and his body is heavy, limbs tired from a long day, still not entirely steady after his encounter with the curse.

“We won’t keep you up,” Jimin’s voice adds.

Jeongguk shakes his head. “‘s fine.”

“It’s almost two in the morning,” Namjoon says from somewhere further back. “We should all get some rest.”

Seokjin pulls Jeongguk to his feet, and Jeongguk blinks a few times, looking back to find Taehyung and Hoseok both leaning against the wall, asleep, Taehyung with his mouth open and Hoseok with his hair in his eyes.

“You all can stay here if you want,” Jeongguk says, rubbing at the corner of his lips where he thinks he might have embarrassingly drooled on himself. “I can sleep on the floor, and my bed fits... two.”

“It’s alright,” Seokjin says, and Jeongguk’s magic swirls around the two of them when Seokjin leans in to press a kiss to Jeongguk’s cheek. “Maybe next time you can stay at our place.”

Our place, Jeongguk thinks, but his brain is a little overloaded from Seokjin’s soft lips on his skin. “Okay,” Jeongguk says blankly.

Namjoon squeezes Jeongguk’s arm as Jimin rouses Taehyung and Hoseok, and then they’re all leaving, Yoongi last out the door with a quiet, “Call if you need anything, okay, Jeongguk-ah?”

And then Jeongguk is alone in the apartment, his magic settling back in his hands as he drags himself to his bed and curls up, wishing he had Taehyung and Hoseok bracketing him like book-ends, wishing he had Namjoon’s magic twisting protectively around him and Jimin’s washing over him, wishing Seokjin would kiss his cheek again, maybe his forehead, maybe his nose, maybe his lips.

He falls asleep thinking of them.

↡

“Jeongguk?”

Jeongguk startles, quickly turning around from the desk and blinking at Jihyo as she stands in the doorway to the back room. “Yes?”

“Are you doing okay? You’ve seemed kind of out of it since you came in earlier this morning.”

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry,” Jeongguk says quickly. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Jihyo arches an eyebrow like she doesn’t believe him, but she smiles slightly and tilts her head to the side, her bob swinging with the motion. “Nothing. Unless you want to help me mix some paint for a commission.”

Jeongguk nearly breathes out in relief. That’s exactly what he needs. “I’d love to.”

The two of them, leaving the door open to the main room, spread out on the floor with tubs of paint around them as Jihyo rattled off instructions and Jeongguk nods along.

She turns on her classical music again, and they both hum as they work, window thrown open to get out some of the smell, though Jeongguk has never really minded it.

“We can listen to something else if you’d like,” Jihyo says about ten minutes later. 

“I don’t mind. I haven’t heard a music style I don’t like yet.”

“Really? Meanwhile in my coven, no one will let me listen to classical for longer than half an hour before they’re yelling at me to turn it off.”

Jeongguk laughs, working the paint-stirrer around in the bucket between his legs. “What do they like?”

“Pop, mostly. One loves trot, too, but she has to bully her way into making playlists if we’re driving somewhere since no one will play it otherwise,” Jihyo says, and her voice is fond, magic softening.

Jeongguk smiles at it for a moment before he feels his face fall. “Sunbae, how did you know you’d met someone in your coven?” 

Jihyo hums at that. “I think it was a slow thing at first. I met the woman who’d make our coven with me about fifteen years ago at some witch’s solstice gathering. I remember she made me laugh the whole night. Her magic was also so bright . I wanted to see her again. And the more I saw her, the more I realized that she was someone I wanted to share things with. She was a great kisser, too, but that definitely wasn’t the reason I asked her to form a coven with me,” Jihyo adds with a little laugh. 

For some reason, those words rattle around in his head. She was a great kisser, too, but that definitely wasn’t the reason I asked her to form a coven with me.

“Now let's get this paint finished up, shall we?” Jihyo asks, and Jeongguk nods, something almost like hope blooming across his palms.

↡

Jeongguk gets lots of messages from six particular witches these days.

He goes to the cafe and sees them there several times a week after work.

Jeongguk wonders what it would be like if he was in a coven with one of them. With some of them. 

He knows Jimin and Hoseok are already involved from the way they kiss and hold hands sometimes, and Jeongguk wonders what it would be like to join them, if they’d ever even consider having him.

But then they would expect more, wouldn’t they? The two of them kiss in the cafe and feed each other at dinner when they take Jeongguk out for samgyeopsal one night and teasingly flirt at the dance studio they bring Jeongguk to, showing him where they work.

Jeongguk’s magic thrives with them, the bright and sweet hum of the energy, the way they smile at Jeongguk and the way they move with him, teaching him dance steps in the studio as their magic swims around him, exhilarating, making him love dance in a way he’s never loved it before.

But Jeongguk still can’t imagine more. He can’t imagine taking his clothes off for them, can’t imagine having sex with them, doesn’t want to imagine it.

It’s the same with the others, too. 

Seokjin hasn’t kissed Jeongguk again since the night the curse broke, but Jeongguk wants him to. He wants Seokjin to kiss him and he wants Taehyung to hook his chin on his shoulder and he wants Namjoon to wrap him up with his magic and he wants Yoongi to hold him. 

He wants all those things, but he doesn’t know how much past that he could bear, and so once again, Jeongguk tries to push thoughts of covens and life partners from his mind.

↡

“Jeongguk-ah,” Seokjin says, his knee brushing against Jeongguk’s as Cloud and Bean hop around between them. “Would you want to come over for dinner on Friday night?”

Jeongguk pets one of Bean’s floppy ears as he looks up at Seokjin. “I’d love to,” he says. “Well,” he hedges, because teasing Seokjin has quickly become one of his favorite pastimes, “only if the food is good.”

“The food is good,” Seokjin says indignantly. “But if you’re ungrateful about it I’ll only give you scraps.”

“As long as they’re good scraps,” Jeongguk says with a grin.

“Bean, stop letting Jeonggukie pet you, he’s being mean,” Seokjin sniffs.

Seokjin obviously can’t be too serious considering, even with his natural magic, Bean does not move a single inch off of Jeongguk’s lap.

Jeongguk helps Seokjin wipe down the tables after they put the bunnies back into their corner, the teasing continuing as Seokjin's laughter washes through the cafe, Jeongguk giggling along.

It’s a rare night where it’s just Seokjin and Jeongguk locking up after hours, but Jeongguk is more than content with the comforting sigh of Seokjin’s magic alone.

“Is anyone else coming to dinner on Friday?” Jeongguk asks.

Seokjin gives him a look like Jeongguk has said something odd, and says, “Everyone?”

“Good. I haven’t seen Namjoon-hyung in weeks,” Jeongguk complains as they walk down the stairs.

“His team’s apparently on the verge of some breakthrough with some compound they’ve been working with. He did say he missed you though,” Seokjin adds.

Jeongguk’s heart jumps at this. “Oh. Well. I’m glad I’ll see him Friday then.”

They reach the bottom of the steps, the street quiet, just a few humans strolling by.

Jeongguk makes the mistake of looking Seokjin in the eye and nearly asks Seokjin to kiss him on the cheek goodbye again.

“Um,” Jeongguk says, and it must be a trick of the dim lighting that Seokjin’s cheeks appear to flush.

“Goodnight, Jeongguk-ah,” Seokjin says.

“Goodnight, hyung.”

Jeongguk walks home alone, his magic twitching irritably in his fingers, annoyed at not getting at least one more touch from Seokjin.

↡

“Are you going on a date?” Mingyu asks, glancing up from where he’s hunched over the table in the kitchen, phone in one hand and chopsticks in the other.

“Just going over to Seokjin-hyung’s place for dinner,” Jeongguk says, slipping into his shoes. It’s far too warm for a jacket, so Jeongguk is wearing a simple white t-shirt and his favorite pair of light-wash jeans.

“Yeah, but you’re not wearing sweats. And your hair is pushed back.”

Jeongguk blinks. He had definitely styled his hair back thinking of the time Jimin made an off-hand comment that it looked nice that way. That, and it made Jeongguk feel like he looked hot. Preparing to have dinner with seven men so beautiful it sometimes hurts to look at them seems like a good time to feel at least a little hot.

“Yeah,” Jeongfuk says slowly, and he laces up his boots.

“Well. Have fun,” Mingyu tells him, and immediately goes back to his phone.

Jeongguk takes the bus over to the address Seokjin gave him, which is actually only around twenty minutes by car away from home.

The apartment building itself is modest, and Jeongguk uses the keypad to call Seokjin, who lets him in.

Elevators still make Jeongguk feel weird, and he’s unsure why humans allow themselves to be trapped in moving boxes, and Jeongguk’s ears pop as he rides up to the fifteenth floor.

Jeongguk feels the combined magic of all six witches as he stands outside the apartment, and he’s just raising his hand to knock when the door swings open.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Jimin grins at him before pulling him inside. “We’re almost done with cooking.”

“You mean Yoongi and I are almost done. The rest of you have been completely unhelpful,” Seokjin’s voice floats from somewhere within the apartment, mouthwatering smells filling the space just as much as magic.

The apartment itself is a little cluttered, but it’s huge compared to Jeongguk’s place, the floors a pale wood that glows warmly under the soft yellow lights. 

“Taehyung helped chop,” Jimin defends immediately.

Taehyung, who is currently sprawled across Hoseok on the sofa, grins and waves at Jeongguk.

“Hi, hyungs,” Jeongguk says, smiling back at them. 

Dinner is loud and messy and chaotic, the table just outside the kitchen full of plates and bowls and soups and side dishes.

Gloss makes a brief appearance and Jeongguk pets his head before he disappears down the hall, probably getting away from all the noise.

Namjoon sits beside Jeongguk and catches him up on work, rambling slightly as he talks.

Taehyung, on Jeongguk’s other side, keeps passing Jeongguk more and more food, picking out the best pieces of meat to put on Jeongguk’s plate.

Jeongguk helps with the dishes when they’re all stuffed, Jimin helping him in the kitchen while the others clear the table and drift back and forth.

“How do you know it’s not going to explode?” Jeongguk asks, nose wrinkled as he looks at the microwave. 

“Because it doesn’t just explode, Jeongguk,” Jimin insists. “You’d have to put something into it like metal.”

“But it always makes those awful noises,” Jeongguk argues. “It’s just, like, waiting for you to turn your back and then the whole thing will catch on fire.”

Jimin sighs. “Jeongguk-ah, sometimes I think you’re in your eight-hundreds rather than your two-hundreds with the way you don’t understand technology.”

“He’s still a baby,” Hoseok says, cooing slightly as he walks into the kitchen with a few stacked bowls.

Jeongguk feels heat rush to his cheeks. “I’m not a baby, hyung.”

Hoseok laughs as he sets down the bowls, and he rocks up on his toes to kiss Jeongguk’s forehead. “Sorry, Jeongguk-ah, I’m so old now all the young witches seem like they’re from another generation.”

“Stop stealing my lines,” Yoongi grumbles from the dining room.

“We’re all still in our two-hundreds, will you stop it with the old witch talk?” Seokjin calls.

“You’re nearly three-hundred,” Namjoon’s voice answers more quietly, though it’s quickly followed by a yelp. “Hyung! My ass isn’t padded like Jimin’s is, that hurts!”

Jeongguk chokes on a laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just not ready to think about my three-hundredth.” 

Taehyung comes into the kitchen empty-handed, which Jeongguk assumes means the table is finally clear. 

He returns his attention to the dishes as Taehyung shuffles up behind him, wrapping his arms around Jeongguk’s waist, humming a short, content noise.

Jimin and Hoseok leave the kitchen joking about birthday parties, the thrum of their magic growing a little bit more faint. 

Jeongguk leans back against his chest happily, Taehyung the perfect combination of soft and solid. “Hyung, I almost finished My Hero Academia,” Jeongguk says.

Taehyung hums again, and Jeongguk feels a little bit of his magic at that, something that glints like crystallized amber. It sounds like a question.

“I like it a lot,” Jeongguk tells him. “If you ever want to come over and watch, maybe we can start the next show together?”

Jeongguk’s voice trails off tentatively, and he wonders if Taehyung will pull back.

Instead, Taehyung makes a quiet noise of affirmation, and then Jeongguk feels Taehyung’s lips press gently against the side of his neck.

Jeongguk nearly drops the bowl he’s holding, heart slamming against his ribs.

Now, Taehyung does pull back, and Jeongguk looks over his shoulder to find Taehyung’s face apologetic.

“It’s okay,” Jeongguk answers. His hands are soapy, and he swallows, his magic flitting around the room in confusion, trying to find the glimpse of Taehyung’s again and failing. “I was just surprised.”

Taehyung’s expression doesn’t clear.

“I mean it,” Jeongguk says, and his heart is still beating a little too quickly in his chest as he turns back to the sink to rinse the bowl he’s holding and place it in the drainer. “I, um. We both like touch. I like kissing, too.”

He towels his hands off, fingers trembling slightly at the confession, and turns back to Taehyung, who is watching him with now a slightly less readable face. 

“I like kissing if it’s someone I’m close with,” Jeongguk clarifies, and his magic is buzzing around him. Maybe he should stop talking now. Taehyung is still staring at him though like he's worried something is wrong. “And we’re… well, I’m close to you. I don’t know if you feel like you’re close to me, but-”

Taehyung takes a step forward, and Jeongguk stops talking. He watches Taehyung closely, trying to read his expression, but Taehyung just raises a finger and taps his lips.

“Mouth?” Jeongguk asks, and when Taehyung nods, Jeongguk blinks. “Oh. Kissing on the lips?”

Taehyung nods again, then points at Jeongguk.

“Yeah,” Jeongguk whispers.

Taehyung touches his own lips again, his eyes wide and fixed on Jeongguk’s.

“Yes,” Jeongguk says, and when he leans forward, Taehyung is already reaching for him.

Taehyung’s lips are warm as he kisses Jeongguk, a gentle pressure that’s echoed in the hand that curls carefully around the back of Jeongguk’s neck, in the palm that comes to rest on Jeongguk’s waist. 

Jeongguk likes this.

Taehyung doesn’t try to deepen the kiss when he pulls back slightly, only moves from Jeongguk’s top lip to the lower, giving it the same soft attention.

Jeongguk likes this a lot.

He kisses Taehyung back, carefully placing his damp hands on Taehyung’s side, his magic dancing in his fingertips at each point of contact with Taehyung’s warmth.

He feels Namjoon’s magic then, a vine that curls itself loosely around Taehyung and Jeongguk.

Jeongguk leans back from Taehyung, slightly dazed, and finds Namjoon standing in the doorway to the kitchen. 

“Oh,” Namjoon says faintly. He looks from Taehyung to Jeongguk. “Can we- can we all talk?”

Jeongguk finds himself nodding, but his mind is currently spinning in overdrive.

Kissing doesn’t have to mean something.

It doesn’t mean something for everyone.

Jeongguk has, in fact, kissed people without meaning anything by it before and it was okay.

But with Taehyung, it felt good. It felt like it meant something, though Jeongguk isn’t sure what.

And now Namjoon wants to talk.

With everyone.

Jeongguk’s head starts to feel a little too full, thoughts spinning.

Taehyung slips his hand into Jeongguk’s, however, and they follow Namjoon out into the living room.

Yoongi is sitting half in Hoseok’s lap on the couch, Seokjin beside them squinting at his phone.

“Jimin-ah?” Namjoon calls.

Jeongguk’s stomach drops, and he pulls his magic back in towards himself.

Did he do something wrong in kissing Taehyung? Is Taehyung part of Jimin and Hoseok’s coven? Is Jeongguk supposed to talk to them first before kissing him? 

“Jeongguk-ah?” Seokjin calls, and he’s frowning slightly.

“Um,” Jeongguk says, and he looks wildly around the room.

Taehyung squeezes his hand.

“I’m here,” Jimin says, padding into the living room, now dressed in silky-looking pajamas. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine,” Namjoon says, but it does little to assure the nerves rattling around in Jeongguk’s brain. “I just thought the whole coven should be here for this, especially since we’ve been talking about-”

The whole coven, Jeongguk’s brain supplies. The whole coven.

Namjoon continues speaking, but Jeongguk has no idea what he’s saying, his eyes tracing across the room as the realization sinks in that Namjoon, Taehyung, Seokjin, Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi are all part of the same coven.

Oh fuck, how did Jeongguk miss that before?

“-take your time to think about it,” Yoongi’s saying quietly, watching Jeongguk’s face with a slight frown of what might be concern. 

“What?” Jeongguk manages. Of course this is something he’s barely let himself dream about, of course this is something that he fears.

“We’d like to extend an invitation,” Seokjin says lightly. “Namjoon means that, if you’d like to consider it, our coven would love to have you think of us as an option.”

“An option,” Jeongguk repeats, and he pulls his hand away from Taehyung.

They want him.

His magic sings at that at the same time his mind screams. They want him, and if he joins their coven like they’re inviting him to do, they’ll expect the kinds of intimacy the seodang glossed over, the kind that’s always an assumed part of covens, the kind he's never wanted, doesn't want now-

“I can’t,” Jeongguk chokes out, and he’s stumbling back, body drawing toward the door. “I’m sorry, I can’t, I’m not- You wouldn’t want me to join.”

Seokjin is on his feet, the vines of Namjoon’s magic reaching for him. 

Jeongguk pulls his magic back sharply as he shoves his feet into his boots. “I should’ve told you earlier. I can’t join a coven.”

“Jeongguk-”

The voice is unfamiliar for only a moment before the rich, low tone settles in like amber. Like honey.

It’s Taehyung speaking, his eyes wide, fearful. 

Jeongguk’s whole body locks. Stay, it tells him, compels him. Stay.

“Tae,” Jimin gasps, and immediately Taehyung’s hands fly over his mouth.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok says, and now the whole room is standing. “Everyone calm down.” 

Jeongguk still can’t move, honeyed magic swirling around him, the desperation in Taehyung’s voice telling him to stay.

“Just breathe, Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi’s saying, his voice low and steady.

Taehyung’s eyes are shining wetly, and he keeps his hands plastered over his mouth as Namjoon approaches him like he would a startled animal.

“Jeongguk-ah, just hold on a second, I promise he didn’t mean to,” Seokjin murmurs, and his magic, for all of his calming energy, does nothing to stop the slamming, frantic beat of Jeongguk’s heart.

Jeongguk is stuck, frozen, unable to move, caught like a creature fossilized in amber.

“That’s it, Tae-yah. Pull it back carefully. Just like we practiced,” Yoongi says, and it’s the same soft voice he used the night the curse caught up to Jeongguk.

Slowly, slowly, Jeongguk can feel the honey and amber magic pulling away, the compulsion dropping as he’s able to fall back another step, nearly tripping over his untied laces.

“You compelled me,” Jeongguk croaks, looking at Taehyung. He can barely wrap his head around the coven that the six of them are in together, of the invitation they extended. And now, Taehyung compelled him?

“Jeongguk,” Namjoon starts, but Jeongguk is already wrenching open the door and running down the hall.

His magic cries out in his chest, and Jeongguk’s eyes burn as he punches the button for the elevator, dissolving into sobs when the doors slide closed behind him with a quiet ding.

↡

Jeongguk doesn’t leave his apartment the rest of the weekend.

He tells Mingyu everything Saturday morning, his eyes sore from crying and his magic still hiding behind his ribs, his fingers numb.

Mingyu listens, says, “That sounds like a lot.”

And Jeongguk, miserably, replies, “Yeah.”

There are messages from all of them.

Jeongguk doesn't open any. 

Instead, he sketches in his room. 

His subjects are all random items lying within view, keeping his thoughts focused on something other than the six witches’ coven. 

Jeongguk actually makes dinner that night too, and Mingyu surfaces halfway through to help, the two of them talking about their landlord and Mingyu’s developing relationship with the human he’s been seeing and about how much red pepper paste to add to their food.

By Sunday afternoon, Jeongguk is feeling a little less like something exploded inside of his head. 

He thinks about spending the week without going to the cafe. Without seeing any of them. Without messaging them.

He could do it.

It would be like his first few weeks in Seoul. 

But Jeongguk thinks he would miss them. He would miss them a lot.

So Jeongguk opens his messages, finds apologies from Taehyung, finds worried texts from the others.

Jeongguk starts a new group chat, and types, can we talk tomorrow night at the cafe?

↡

Gloss is there to greet Jeongguk when he finishes locking up the shop on Monday, staring with his bright yellow eyes in the fading light of the sunset, days longer and hotter.

“Hi,” Jeongguk says, unsure of what the cat’s stare means. 

Gloss lets out a sharp meow that makes Jeongguk wince.

“Sorry,” he says. “I’m going to talk to them tonight.”

Gloss meows again, and it still sounds like a reprimand. 

“I didn’t mean to make anyone worry,” Jeongguk tries.

Gloss seems satisfied at that, trotting off down the alley with a flick of his tail and Jeongguk, his palms already clammy from nervous sweat, follows. 

The evening is almost too warm, summer trapping heat and making Seoul muggy. 

It doesn’t, obviously, help Jeongguk’s nervous sweat.

Jeongguk has thought quite a bit about what he’s going to say, but that doesn’t stop him chewing on his lip as he climbs the steps to Take a Paws.

The lights are still on though the closed sign faces out, like it always does when Jeongguk comes in after hours. He pushes inside after taking a slow breath.

The six of them are already there.

Seokjin seems to be caught in the middle of pacing, freezing when he sees Jeongguk step inside.

Taehyung, who had previously been sitting on Hoseok’s lap, jumps to his feet.

The others are all sitting around the same table, and they all look at Jeongguk with expressions ranging from near tears (Taehyung) to concern (Yoongi) to hopeful (Jimin).

“Hi,” Jeongguk says.

“Hi, Jeongguk-ah,” Hoseok says, the smile he offers tense, not meeting his eyes.

There's an awkward, tense pause, and Taehyung takes a step forward, an apology already written across his face.

“So," Jeongguk starts, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. "First off, I wanted to say, hyung,” Jeongguk looks at Taehyung. “I know it was an accident. It sucked, and I never want that to happen again, but I got your apologies and I accept.”

Taehyung pulls out his phone, and Jeongguk walks closer to him, floorboards creaking beneath his feet. The room is quiet save for soft munching that can be heard from the bunnies’ corner as they eat their dinner.

I’m sorry. Thank you. I swear I’m trying to learn how to control it.

Jeongguk nods, says quietly, “I know, hyung. It makes sense. I was thinking about how I wish you’d told me before that your magic was compulsion, but- you were scared of how I’d react, right? That I’d push you away?”

Taehyung nods.

“I, um. I was doing the same thing. Sort of. I mean,” Jeongguk chews on his lip as he turns to face the rest of the room. “Friday night, you all tried to offer me an invitation to consider joining the coven, right?”

“Yes,” Namjoon says. He looks tired, dark circles beneath his glasses. “Not that there is any rush. Or- was any rush. I don’t know if you’re thinking about it at all.”

“I am,” Jeongguk says, and immediately he feels the magic in the room brighten. His own magic strains at his fingers, but he holds his back. He needs to be focused. “But I don’t know if you’ll take your offer back once you know how I feel about covens.”

That clearly isn’t the answer they were expecting, and Seokjin asks as he leans against the front counter, “You don't like covens?”

“I do,” Jeongguk says quickly. “Or, at least I like the idea of sharing a future with people I care about. Of coming home to you all. Dancing with Jimin and Hoseok-hyung on weekends and helping Seokjin-hyung around the cafe and watching anime with Tae-hyung and talking with Namjoon-hyung and Yoongi-hyung.”

The cafe is quiet again until Jimin says, “I want that too, Jeongguk. With you.”

Jeongguk takes a slow breath. “But I don’t want sex.”

They all stare at him, and Jeongguk feels a weird combination of extreme embarrassment and mild terror at announcing that to all of them. 

“I don’t even like- like a lot of the things that lead up to sex. Or are in the general category or-” Jeongguk gestures vaguely, unable to meet any of their eyes. “Yeah. So if you want to take back your offer, I understand. But I’d still like to hang out with you all sometimes because I care about you and spending time with you is really nice. But if you were only meeting with me because you want me in your coven, and now that you know I’m not interested in everything that comes with that, then just, um, let me know.”

There’s a meow from below, and Gloss is wrapping himself around Jeongguk’s ankles, purring.

Jeongguk almost lets out a frantic laugh, a wheezing puff of air leaving his lips. If the others don’t want him anymore, at least Gloss will stick around.

“Jeongguk-ah,” Namjoon says, and Jeongguk, eyes slightly blurred with tears, finally looks up at him. “We’re all acespec.”

Jeongguk stares blankly, his vision swimming wetly.

"We're all acespec. And a few of us are arospec, too," Namjoon tries to explain, more words that Jeongguk doesn't understand.

“Huh?” Jeongguk manages, and he has no idea if this is a rejection or an excuse or-

“We’re all like that, Jeongguk,” Seokjin says. “How you feel about sex. We all feel similarly to you.”

We're all like that.

“Oh,” Jeongguk says, and he blinks, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Oh .”

Jimin laughs, sweet and smoky, and then there are strong arms wrapping around his waist. “Jeongguk-ah,” he says, “is that the only reason you were turning us down?”

Jeongguk’s nervous sweat was apparently not what he needed to worry about, but rather his incapability of not crying when overwhelmed. “Yeah,” he chokes out.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin says softly. “Even if we didn’t think the same way about sex, we still would want you. We thought we would be the ones having this conversation with you, in case you wanted sex and weren’t interested in joining a coven without it.”

Jeongguk presses his face into Jimin’s peach hair and cries a little harder. “I want you,” he says between sniffs.

Jimin rocks him back and forth, and Hoseok asks, “Can we get in on this?”

“Yes,” Jeongguk hiccups, and someone laughs a little at that the others are pressing carefully in around them, Hoseok ruffling Jeongguk’s hair and Yoongi standing behind Jimin to reach up and wipe the tears off Jeongguk’s cheeks.

When they all break apart, Jeongguk finds himself drawing toward Taehyung, whispering, “Can I kiss you?”

Taehyung nods, relief written across his face, in his puffy, red-rimmed eyes, and Jeongguk presses their lips together, tries to tell him, it's okay, I forgive you, really, I want you, too with the way he kisses him softly, gently.

“Okay,” Seokjin says, and his voice is a little watery. “So you are considering our offer.”

“Yeah,” Jeongguk croaks. “I’ll try to talk instead of freak out next time something big happens.”

“Yes, please,” Hoseok says. 

“I’m sending you an info sheet about aspec identities,” Namjoon says, wiping his glasses with his shirt, also sniffing. “They don’t teach this at human schools or at seodangs. So many covens aren’t like you think, Jeongguk-ah. Some are like ours, some include humans, some witches prefer to never join a coven at all.”

“Oh,” Jeongguk says, and it feels like his world view just tilted slightly on its axis. “I’m glad.”

He’s very, very glad.

Taehyung kisses him again.

↡

Jimin and Yoongi take Jeongguk out for a new piercing on Thursday and, while they’re eating mandu for dinner during a lull in conversation, Yoongi says, “I’m aromantic.”

Jeongguk, who extensively studied the information Namjoon sent him on Monday, nods. “Thank you for telling me,” he says, then, “Can I ask if you’re romance-repulsed?”

Yoongi hums under his breath, chewing. His cheeks are round, soft. “I’m not usually. I don’t mind doing things that people think of as romantic, I just don’t… feel the same way about them.”

“Romance is weird anyway,” Jimin comments, and he perks up for a moment, waving over at the woman working in their area of the restaurant. “More beer, please.” 

“Romance is weird,” Yoongi agrees.

Jeongguk has to agree. He's not sure, even with all the dramas he watches while eating ramen after work, he knows what romance is. But he knows how he feels about Yoongi and Jimin and the others. He knows his heart warms when he looks at them, that they make him feel safe and loved, and that he wants to make them feel safe and loved, too. "I don't think I understand it," Jeongguk admits.

Yoongi drains the last of his beer. “Namjoon and I once talked for eight hours about what romantic attraction even means and Jimin and Seokjin threatened to throw us out of the apartment to continue the conversation somewhere they couldn’t hear if we kept it up.”

Jeongguk snorts. “Did they?”

“Nah, it was almost four in the morning so we all just went to bed.”

“They have this conversation again at least once a year, though,” Jimin supplies, sounding more amused than annoyed.

“You love us anyway,” Yoongi says.

Jimin nods, eyes curving with his smile, magic humming even sweeter, an undertone to the heartbeat of Yoongi’s old magic. “I love you anyway.”

The beer arrives, and Jeongguk and Yoongi both look at it balefully. 

“Are you trying to get us drunk?” Yoongi asks flatly.

“Yup,” Jimin answers.

Jeongguk has never really seen Jimin drink before, but he assumes from Jimin’s height that he’s a lightweight. “Bet I can drink more than you,” Jeongguk says.

Jimin grins as Yoongi sighs, “You’re going to regret that.”

Jeongguk does indeed, with the worst hangover of his life, regret it.

He doesn’t regret spending the night laughing with Yoongi and Jimin, though, of Yoongi holding his hand as they walk Jeongguk back to his apartment, of Jimin teasing Jeongguk about how red he turns when he drinks. 

He doesn’t regret a moment of that at all.

↡

They didn’t let me go to a normal seodang, Taehyung writes. 

Jeongguk’s arms tighten around Taehyung’s waist.

They’re in Jeongguk’s room, the show they were watching on Taehyung’s laptop paused. Mingyu is out for the night again, and Jeongguk is beginning to think that Mingyu might make a coven with the human he’s been seeing for the last six months.

It leaves the apartment quiet, even quieter now with Jeongguk’s murmurs and Taehyung’s typing.

My family had to fight to keep them from locking me up when I was a kid, Taehyung writes on his phone. The others are the only ones I talk around now. Sometimes I still compel them without meaning to. If I feel too strongly, it just happens. 

Jeongguk presses a kiss to the side of Taehyung’s head. “You’re trying.”

I’m still sorry about compelling you that night.

“I know,” Jeongguk says quietly. The laptop screen turns dark. “Hyung, if you ever want to try talking in front of me again, I think I’d be okay with it.”

Really?

“Yeah. I love when you hum. Your magic is beautiful. And I think that night I was panicking and you were panicking and none of us were really thinking straight.”

Straight, Taehyung types as he laughs.

Jeongguk snorts. 

Taehyung’s fingers hesitate over his keyboard.

“What?” Jeongguk asks 

Can I try saying your name again?

Jeongguk’s magic buzzes happily. “Yeah.”

Taehyung shifts in Jeongguk’s arms, sliding down a bit on Jeongguk’s chest and then tilting his head back, peering up at Jeongguk. 

“Jeongguk-ah,” he says quietly.

His magic flows softly around him, smooth like honey, but it doesn’t wrap around Jeongguk.

Instead, Jeongguk’s magic dances toward it.

Jeongguk leans down and kisses Taehyung’s forehead. “Perfect, hyung.”

↡

“Like this,” Hoseok says, and he repeats the move again.

The class all copies, Jeongguk included.

It’s odd being around so many humans, but Jeongguk sticks to the back of the dance studio, watching Hoseok in the mirrors as he leads the choreography, eight count by eight count. 

“Great. One more time. Watch the angle of your arm here,” Hoseok corrects, starting the music again. 

His magic thrums throughout the room, all of the students, including Jeongguk, breathing hard. The brightness is impossible to ignore, though, radiating from Hoseok. It lights up the space, everyone grinning when they finish a sequence correctly, buzzing with energy. It’s almost like humans fill themselves with a sun drop when Hoseok’s around. 

“It goes pa pa pa,” Hoseok says the next time he stops the track. “One more time?”

The class mimics the movement, this time landing their right foot on the correct beat.

“Perfect. Let’s do it to the music and then we’ll be done for the night.”

Jeongguk’s shirt is sticking to his back as the other students filter out, bowing to Hoseok as they go. 

“Jeonggukie,” Hoseok says, his face shining with sweat. “You did great tonight.”

“Hyung’s a good teacher,” Jeongguk answers with a grin. He leans in for a kiss, not minding that both of them are sticky and still panting.

Hoseok meets Jeongguk’s lips once, twice, three times before pulling back, each peck like another sun drop. “Fuck, I’m tired,” Hoseok says then, flopping on the floor.

“Should I call Yoongi-hyung to drive you back?” Jeongguk asks. 

“Nah, I just need a few minutes,” Hoseok answers.

Jeongguk lies down on the floor beside him, fitting his arm under Hoseok’s head to cushion him.

“You know, hyung, when you were dancing, it was almost like the humans had some of your magic,” Jeongguk says, staring at the ceiling.

The fan in the corner or the room blows steadily around them.

“I think everyone has a bit of magic,” Hoseok admits.

Jeongguk blinks in surprise. “Really?”

“Did I ever tell you that my dad was human?”

“You didn’t,” Jeongguk says.

“Yeah. My mom’s coven was traditional, and they didn’t approve of her relationship. She left them for my dad. She told me that even if humans didn’t have the same energy that witches do, they hold their own kind of magic.”

Jeongguk rolls his head to the side to look at Hoseok. “I never thought about it before.”

Hoseok sits up, offering Jeongguk a hand. “There’s always more magic in the world than we expect, Jeongguk-ah.”

Jeongguk lets Hoseok pull him to his feet and decides that he likes the sound of that.

↡

“Alright, is that everything?” Namjoon asks.

Jeongguk’s belongings are all packed away in a suitcase and three boxes, one of which Seokjin just finished taping up. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk says, and he looks at Mingyu. “Unless I’m forgetting something?” 

Mingyu, currently standing in the doorway to his own bedroom with the small human, Jihoon, shakes his head. “You said you didn’t want any of the kitchen stuff, right?”

“No, we’ve got a ton of it already,” Jeongguk answers. The apartment- his coven’s apartment- is well lived in and definitely doesn’t need anything else shoved in the cabinets. 

They say their goodbyes, the apartment cluttered with Jihoon moving in while Jeongguk moves out, and then they drag Jeongguk’s things down to where Seokjin’s car is parked out front.

“Does it feel weird?” Namjoon asks as they close the trunk.

“A little,” Jeongguk admits. “But only because I lived in the seodang for so long, you know? It’s only been two years here with Mingyu.”

“A lot of life happens outside the seodang,” Seokjin says, twirling his keys around on his finger. “And youth is wasted on the young.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “I thought we weren’t allowed to make jokes about your age now that you hit three hundred?”

“You aren’t,” Seokjin says. “I am.”

“Sounds fake, but okay,” Jeongguk tells him, wrinkling his nose.

Seokjin kisses his nose anyway.

“Oh! I know that one. It’s an Internet thing, isn’t it?” Namjoon asks as he gets into the back seat.

Seokjin and Jeongguk both exchange a look. 

“Yes, hyung, it’s an Internet thing ,” Jeongguk says, because for all of Namjoon’s knowledge regarding social issues, identity, and politics, he is always at least six months behind anything happening in popular culture. 

Seokjin drives them back to the apartment, and Namjoon leans forward in his seat to clasp Jeongguk’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Jeongguk answers honestly.

“If it doesn’t work out,” Namjoon says, “it’s okay. Like Hoseok sometimes rents out his own place for a few years, but it doesn’t make us less of a coven. If you ever need your own space-”

“I know, hyung,” Jeongguk tells him, and his magic skitters out of his fingers to dart around the vine of energy that Namjoon reaches out to him. “I’ll talk to you all. I promise. But I also feel good about this.”

“I think we all do,” Seokjin says, and his magic sighs gently over Jeongguk and Namjoon’s.

“I'm really glad you found me,” Jeongguk tells them quietly.

Namjoon smiles, dimples showing faintly in the rearview mirror. "And here I thought you found us."

Their magic fills the car, and Jeongguk thinks, as they drive toward an apartment on the fifteenth floor of a small building in Seoul, that he might have, for all the vastness of the world, discovered a place in it for himself after all.

↡

“Jihyo-sunbae,” Jeongguk calls softly, lingering in the doorway to the back room.

“What’s up, Jeongguk-ah?” She has paint streaked across her face as she smiles, early morning light shining in through the window.

“If you have some time later, do you think you could maybe check over a spell I put into a painting?”

Jihyo nods. “Of course. I didn’t think you were doing commissions yet.”

“It’s not a commission,” Jeongguk assures her quickly. He points to the painting at the edge of the room, the one he brought in last week before he started packing up his things from his old apartment. 

It’s all soft colors, an old hanok house in the rain, vines climbing over the walls, lavender bushes out front along with a peach tree. The windows of the house glow with warm yellow light. In one window, a black cat perches. In another, a jar of honey and a bottle of sun drops sit on the sill,  carefully painted in with a detail brush.

“It’s for my coven.”