Darker Blood

Chapter fifty-six

Taehyung shook his head, pushing himself off the wall before stumbling towards where they lay in the centre of the blackened room, the horrible smell of burnt flesh filling the air. I stumbled after him, looking down at the barely recognisable bodies on the ground.

Jimin's hair had been nearly scorched off, and through all the burns on his scalp, a large patch of it was quickly regrowing. Every inch of skin from his stomach up had been burnt, different shades of red and yellow, and I almost gagged at the sight.

And then there was Jungkook.

I could hardly recognise what was left of my lover on the floor. His every facial feature was burned, and his chest was so damaged, the centre between his two ribcages had been torn open, exposing more burnt flesh, his charred lungs struggling to bring in air. My eyes followed his mutilated outstretched right arm, all the way down to the sharp blade just out of the grasp of his... hand?

I screamed in realisation at what I saw. "Where's his hand?"

Taehyung slowly bent down to pick up the blade among a pile of ashes that Jungkook had used to kill my sister.

"It's alright, his hand will grow back."

I stared at my own right hand in shock. It was there, it was slightly bruised, but it wasn't burnt off. But my hand still felt like it had been sizzled to dust like his was.

~~~

There was still no sign of Jin or Hoseok. I understand that Jin had to go on some momentary voyage, but Hoseok? He was different, and I can't imagine he would agree to go without some alternate motive.

But what could they possibly want? Umai was nothing but ashes now.

I fidgeted in my seat, picking at a small scab on my cheek. I heal like I'm completely human now, and after the explosion, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin seem incredibly human too. I know that they're weak to fire, but that doesn't stop it being any less strange or painful to see them in pain, their skin trying so desperately to glaze over.

We are all lucky to be alive. Especially Jungkook.

I was far away enough from the blast to be hardly damaged, save for a few scrapes and minor burns. And Taehyung is immune to fire, to a certain extent.

The irritating alarm on my phone went off, and I turned it off as fast as I could. It was time to change the dressings on Jungkook, but he still hasn't woken up yet.

I walked briskly into his room, chewing on a tiny bit of loose skin on the inside of my cheek to keep quiet. He was sprawled out in the exact same position as we'd put him in when Taehyung and I carried him into his room.

That was two days ago.

I snuck up to the side of the bed, gently lifting the covers off him. It didn't take long for his chest to reseal, the tissue connected back together minutes after I'd first seen him. But the burns weren't healing at all. There was nothing that could be done for his hand. It was almost hypnotic, watching transparent whisps of skin and veins and muscle spin gracefully in the air in the exact space his right hand should be, weaving itself together extremely slowly and in the most graceful manner I'd ever seen. It was easy to forget how much that must hurt when you're watching it heal.

With gentle fingers, I pried off the plaster covering the burns of his chest, inspecting the skin underneath. It wasn't rotten, but it wasn't healed either.

I sighed, tossing the disgusting bandage into the trash, before dabbing small dots of cream into the worst sections of the burns, lightly using my fingers to spread it around.

He groaned but I continued, refusing to break down during such a simple task. He needs me to do this.

I applied a massive new patch of plaster, patting down the edges to make sure it wouldn't slip off somehow.  When I raised my gaze to his face still scarred with burns, I gasped.

"You're awake!" I squeaked.

"You're alive," he whispered, voice so quiet I could barely hear him.

My eyes welled up with tears without any reason to. I was overwhelmed, and I wanted to kiss him.

"Please," he begged, voice straining as he tried to sit upright. "Please don't leave me."

I shook my head, trying to banish my tears. "Never."

I raced to his left side, sitting on the bed as gently as I could, while he smiled the weakest smile I had ever seen.

That's when I noticed something.

"What's this?" I mumbled, tracing a single finger against the thick line of scarred tissue from the top of his left shoulder down his side, stopping just short of his hipbone.

He breathed inwards sharply, eyes watery with pain. "I had to use dark incantations to get you out from under that ice. Things like that, they always leave a mark."

I pulled my hand away, scared of causing him more pain. "But you're not human, right? It'll heal eventually."

He shook his head slowly, giving up on sitting upright as his body flopped into the bed. "I'll have it forever."

Holy shit.

My heart swelled, and I hated myself for ever doubting him. He deliberately disfigured his beautiful body to protect me without a single second thought.

"Don't worry about it, I was never going to become a model. I'm dead remember?" A light smirk played at his lips, and I couldn't help but let out a quiet giggle as his eyes wafted close.

I nestled on the bed beside him, and he lightly wrapped an arm around me to keep me close to his freezing beating heart. The pangs of loneliness dulled, and an indescribable warmth spread through my body. I could feel his love for me, as if it was a living thing, and it was one of the best feelings in the world.