The next morning, Jihyuk woke up in a big, warm bed—much different from the stiff, cold sheets he was used to. The early sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the unfamiliar room.

For a moment, he blinked in confusion before everything came rushing back—running away, Seungho finding him, staying here for the night. A small smile crept onto his face.

He didn’t leave me.

Jihyuk stretched his small limbs before rolling out of bed. The floor was cold under his feet, but he tiptoed across the room, determined to find Seungho.

The apartment was quiet except for the faint sounds of movement from the kitchen. His eyes lit up as he peeked around the corner.

Seungho stood by the counter, dressed in his usual crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up as he prepared breakfast. His movements were precise, effortless—like he’d done this countless times before.

Jihyuk grinned mischievously.

Silently, he tiptoed behind Seungho, his small hands raised like claws.

Three… Two… One—

"RAHHH!"

Seungho didn’t even flinch.

Instead, without turning, he reached out, grabbed Jihyuk by the back of his shirt, and effortlessly lifted him off the ground.

"Nice try," Seungho said flatly, holding the squirming boy at arm’s length like a misbehaving kitten.

Jihyuk pouted, arms crossed. "How’d you know?!"

"You breathe like a wounded animal," Seungho deadpanned, setting him back on his feet. "And you’re terrible at sneaking."

Jihyuk huffed. "You’re just no fun."

Seungho arched a brow as he returned to his cooking. "Says the child who nearly gave himself a concussion trying to surprise me."

Jihyuk gasped dramatically. "Lies! I’m the sneakiest person ever!"

Seungho gave him a sidelong glance, unimpressed. "Then explain how you tripped over nothing yesterday and made the entire hospital laugh at me."

The boy giggled, rubbing the back of his head. "That was just an accident."

Seungho sighed, flipping the omelet in the pan with a practiced ease. His mind drifted for a brief moment—to another time, another life.

To a young prince who used to intentionally trip over his own feet just to have an excuse to cling onto him.

"Seonsaengnim~" Jiwon had once purred in a teasing tone, arms dramatically flailing as he pretended to stumble. "Oh no, I nearly fell! I could’ve died!"

"Then die quietly," Seungho had responded dryly, pushing his student off him with ease. "And stop making excuses to throw yourself at me."

Jihyuk's bright green eyes snapped him back to the present.

It was strange—how different yet so similar this child was to the prince he once served. He had the same infectious energy, the same mischievous spark.

And yet, unlike Prince Jiwon—who had been raised with love, who had a kingdom and a family—this child had no one.

Seungho sighed inwardly, pushing those thoughts aside as he set a plate of food in front of Jihyuk.

"Eat," he instructed.

Jihyuk’s eyes widened. "For me?"

"No, for the ghost sitting beside you," Seungho said dryly, taking a seat across from him.

Jihyuk laughed, happily digging in.

Seungho watched him for a moment before shifting his gaze to the window. Outside, the city bustled with life, unaware of the ancient vampire sitting in this small apartment, watching over the reincarnation of the boy he once swore to protect.

It had been centuries of grief.

Centuries of watching Jiwon die over and over again.

But this time…

Seungho’s gaze softened as Jihyuk eagerly stuffed his cheeks with food.

Maybe this time will be different.