As Jihyuk finished his meal, his small body finally relaxing after what seemed like a lifetime of tension, he let out a tiny sigh, his legs swinging lazily beneath the blanket. Seungho watched him, arms crossed, his usual composed expression softening just slightly.

Jihyuk suddenly looked up at him, tilting his head as if examining him with new curiosity.

"Seungho-ahjussi," Jihyuk called, his voice playful.

Seungho quirked a brow. "Ahjussi?"

Jihyuk grinned, his green eyes twinkling. "Yeah! You act like an old man! So serious all the time."

Seungho let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "Old man? I’ll have you know, I’m not that old."

Jihyuk hummed, pretending to think. "Hmm… well, you act old. Like my grandpa used to! But..." He squinted slightly, his small fingers poking at Seungho’s cheek before he said, "You don’t look old, though. You look kinda young, actually."

Seungho stiffened at that, but quickly masked his expression. He wasn’t about to explain to a seven-year-old why he never aged.

"I take care of myself," he said smoothly, reaching for his glasses and setting them aside. "Now, it's time for you to sleep."

Jihyuk pouted but obediently snuggled deeper into the blankets. Seungho, after making sure the boy was comfortable, hesitated for only a moment before finally lying down beside him, resting on his back. It had been a long time since he had shared a space like this with someone—not since… him.

A few seconds passed in comfortable silence before Jihyuk shifted, turning on his side to face Seungho. His small voice broke the quiet.

"Seungho-ahjussi… can I hug you?"

Seungho turned his head slightly, meeting those familiar green eyes, the ones that had haunted him for centuries. He inhaled slowly before giving a small nod.

Jihyuk wasted no time, scooting closer and wrapping his tiny arms around Seungho’s torso. The child clung to him, his grip strong despite his small frame, as if afraid that letting go would make Seungho disappear.

Seungho felt the warmth of the small body pressed against him, the steady heartbeat, the soft, sleepy breaths.

Jihyuk murmured, “You feel warm, Seungho-ahjussi…”

Seungho swallowed thickly, staring at the ceiling. For the first time in centuries, he felt something unfamiliar—something almost foreign.

Home.

Without thinking, his hand gently ruffled Jihyuk’s hair.

"Sleep," he whispered.

Jihyuk nodded against his chest, his grip tightening for just a second before he finally let exhaustion take over. His breathing evened out, slow and peaceful.

Seungho remained awake, his crimson eyes staring into the darkness.

For the first time in over a hundred years, he didn't feel alone.