𝐴𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑡𝒉𝑖𝑛𝑒 // 𝐿𝑒𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝒉𝑜

seven.

He was already growing tired of the mortal's frail dependence.

Minho coughed on soot as he reentered the Underworld, glaring at the dense, low hanging cloud bank he had materialized in.

Out of habit, he wiped his nose and smeared the thin layer of black dust that had settled on his skin. The atmosphere in the Underworld was heavy and suffocating, thick with darkness and the stale stench of death. He couldn't stand it some days.

So much was grating on him, all Minho wanted to do was crash in his home and never leave, regardless of how much his roommates irritated him. But he couldn't. He was bound to her fate, regardless of his own feelings.

     His sprawling wings flexed and threw him higher into the air, the frigid wind tickling his cheekbones as he navigated towards the residential area of the Underworld, towards the high demons' dwellings.

     In the mortal realm, demons could conceal their wings to stay under the radar and blend in with the human population. In the Underworld, however, he could only exist in his natural form. Flying was also an easier mode of transportation.

As the clouds thinned, gothic obsidian houses came into view, pale light spilling from mounted sconces as smoke rose from several chimneys. The homes had been in use since the conception of the Underworld, demons coming and going depending on the area they decided to settle down in. There were many communities within the Underworld to choose from, and Minho had picked this one to be as far from his father as possible.

As he zeroed in on his house, Minho slowed in the air, landing with precision in front of the entryway. Not bothering to announce his arrival, Minho barged in, ignoring the surprised sounds his two roommates made at his appearance.

     A brawny, muscular man with sharp black hair stood from his seat and his smacked Minho's shoulder. "Where in Hades have you been? I thought it would only take a second."

Minho rolled his shoulders, wincing as a muscle spasmed. "When duty calls," he muttered, shrugging away from his friend before trudging into the living room.

"Changbin... the mortal. She's been attracting too much demonic attention."

Changbin pursed his lips, nodding to himself thoughtfully. "That would seem to line up. Given her history and the fact that she came of age not long ago."

Momentarily taken aback, Minho narrowed his eyes. "She's twenty already?"

"You asked us to keep tabs on her so you didn't have to," a second man interrupted pointedly, shadowy tendrils curling around his fingers as he waved them in the air. His legs were propped up on the couch he was sprawled on, blond bangs falling into his eyes.

Catching his lip between his teeth, Minho hissed in annoyance. "Her coming of age is a pretty big deal, Seungmin," he gritted out, rubbing his eyes roughly. "It would've been nice to know exactly why demons could sense her better. Damn it."

     The younger man scoffed. "You've never asked us to inform you about her wellbeing or life. You just dove in when she was on the brink of death and disappeared. Why should we have assumed you cared more?"

     Knuckles popping, Minho glared at Seungmin. "Because you know what will happen to me if she dies before her time."

     Seungmin ignored his friend's serious demeanor, fiddling with a phone he'd stolen from the mortal realm. "Maybe His Majesty forgot about it, you know? Not like she's important or anything. It was you who screwed up, your punishment."

     "You don't say?"

     Minho threw himself down on one of their couches, aching eyes closing. "There's something else."