Vampires Will Never Hurt You |Yoonmin au|

Chapter Ten

The door shut harder than he intended as he walked down the street swiftly, never looking back. Running his hands through his hair he blew out a breath of air, puffing his cheeks in frustration. His tongue trailed over his teeth making him stop in his tracks. His fangs had come in. Clenching his jaw, he looked around carefully. The sun was going down. By what he could tell, there was hardly anybody out. An old lady walking her dog, a slightly overweight man about thirty years of age packing up a newspaper stand, and a stray cat lurking in the alley way to his right trying to find a scrap or two of food.

Yoongi chuckled under his breath. "Me too, kitty." Turning his head back to face forward he moved along the sidewalk, heading out of town.

It was still to light out to just go find a rat or something in an alley way. People could walk by and see him. Instead he moved closer and closer until he was standing at the edge of the town, looking at the steps up the mountain to his old home.

The wind blew lightly brushing the yellowing grass to the right, just barely reaching his ankles as he began to climb the stairs. The sun was getting lower now, fading to an orange-red color, nearly touching the horizon.

After a smaller climb than he expected, he had reached the top, stopping at the doorways entrance. Yoongi looked around, cautious to make sure no one followed him. Not entirely sure why he came back, he put his hands in his pant pockets bouncing on his heals before taking a hand out to give three fast knocks on the door.

No answer. He tried again, this time peering over as to try seeing through the window. The door opened a crack, making him jump back to attention, clearing his throat. Seeing his face, the eyes peeping out showed surprised recognition, opening the door wider to reveal his mother.

Yoongi let out a breath of relief smiling to himself that it wasn't his father who had opened the door. "Yoongi? Is it really you?" His mothers voice filled with astonishment as if she had never thought he would survive out in the human world for this long.

"Yeah, it's me. Hi mom." His voice came out sounding uncomfortable, desperately trying to hide it with a smile.

Her mouth opened but no words escaped. Finally giving up, she opened the door nodding and stepped aside, managing to quietly say, "Come in."

Yoongi stepped inside, the floorboards creaking underneath him as he walked into the living room. Everything was how it was when he left. The fire place still had the many pictures of flowers atop it that his mother had taken. The coffee table had some books, a few used mugs, and a candle sitting on top of it. The brown leather couch was still there. It was getting old, as he could visibly see lines in the couch creases where the leather was rubbing off to reveal the cushion underneath it.

"So, what bring you back?" His mother asked pulling out a pot from under the counter in the kitchen. She set it on the stove, turning the heat up and poured some blood into it. "Would you like to eat? It's not fresh so I'm warming it up, but it's still food."

Yoongi watched her pour the dark red liquid into the pot unconsciously wetting his lips. "Yeah... yeah that'd be great, thanks." Yoongi cleared his throat. He could barely remember the last time he had blood. His mind flashed back to when he came to his parents and stole from the freezer outside. He shut his eyes, as the guilt consumed him. He had no problem stealing from his dad, but his mother... 

He looked back to where she was at the stove, heating up the blood. She looked the same as always, never aging. Her skin was pale, as was his, her hair was pitch black and her face was smooth, just how she'd always been. She was the only person who he could really trust growing up. She only nagged him about feeding because she cared about him and didn't want to see him starve himself. He remembered when he was young the two would sit in the living room as she taught him piano, singing songs and laughing together. He never shared any memories like that with his father. His father was always strict and cold-hearted, yelling at him and his mother for the smallest things.