"Jugeullae?" His very first thought was: yes, if you're the one who does it. Followed by a self-reprimand that that was not an appropriate answer—especially to what was meant to be a rhetorical question. Blissfully unaware of the reality of Seojin-a's home life, he ignorantly believed that the vampire had been bluffing. It wasn't like his former friend would actually harm an innocent, especially a girl. He was angry, and this was his way of expressing it. It was like squeezing the juice from an orange. The more Ahn-Bo poked and prodded, the more juice he was rewarded with. And that juice was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. More.

Seojin-a seemed as if he was hooked in this moment too. He hadn't spun away this time—lingering, as if he couldn't resist the pull between them, as if he was waiting for Ahn-Bo's response. There could have been steam spewing from his head with the violent look in his icy gaze. His striking gaze, so near to Ahn-Bo's... the fiery challenge that told the quidditch player Seojin-a was more likely to punch him in the nose than welcome an unprecedented romantic advance. (Ahn-Bo had some ideas and presumptions, but he didn't know for sure what his former friend's inclinations actually were. It seemed like Seojin-a wasn't aware of his own preferences, either.)

Apparently, fifteen-year-old Ahn-Bo found the idea of someone being willing to kill him (ish~) or harm his romantic interest in a jealous rage to be one of the most attractive things a person could do. There was only so much flirtation a hormonal teenager could stand before they reacted. He (happily) crossed right over that forbidden threshold and wrenched the front of Seojin-a's robes in both fists. Before he had the chance to do anything else, the vampire exploded. Or... that's what he'd thought at first. A blink later, he realized the sound had come from behind him—a massive splash of water, like the roaring of a waterfall, and Seojin's wide eyes fixed on something over his shoulder.