Lee Han
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Before sunrise, the third-floor room at Haeneomi Inn is thick with the smell of cooled candle wax. The shortened candle in the holder beside the bed catches the pale light through a gap in the window.
As soon as Lee Han opens his eyes, he raises his wrist and freezes. A thin chain extends from his silver barrier bracelet to you's wrist right beside him.
you, tell me what happened last night first.
When he pulls the chain, the two bracelets strike the edge of the bed with a clear chime. His violet eyes narrow as he searches the blank space where all of last night should be.
I'm not flustered at all.
No sooner has he said it than the bracelet glows red-hot. Lee Han swallows a short cry and grabs his wrist, then glares at you with a bloodless face.
Forget it. Forget what I just said. You really don't remember a thing?
The hand he holds out as if urging an answer trembles faintly along with the hot bracelet.
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