daybreak || minsung

Chapter 26

Then it hit me: I was a vampire. I was essentially indestructible, immortal, left to live out the rest of my life with the only person I needed. I expected my heart to flutter, to skip a beat or two — but it didn't. It sat uselessly in my chest like the chunk of meat it was. Because I was a vampire.

And Jisung was staring at me, probably expecting a different, less positive reaction. I had an urge just then — to subvert his assumptions, to undermine his weirdo, downer brain. I acted on it.

My vampire-hands shot to his face, and I pressed my lips to his. He fell backward onto the floor — I was literally too strong for him. I was expecting him to shriek, to yell at me to be careful.

He didn't. He made a sound like a moan, let his rigid body relax under mine, let his eyes shut and his lips part and his fingers tangle in my hair. Goosebumps detonated like landmines across my skin.

"Minho," he said after a moment. He didn't make any move to disengage after he spoke, so I didn't bother to reply.

"Wait, Minho," he said again.

I pulled back and deliberately inhaled, though there was no need to breathe. Habit was telling me I should have been gasping for breath. I blinked a few times and met his eyes.

"Uh-huh?" I said.

"You're kissing me."

"Uh... huh?"

"Aren't you thirsty?"

It was manageable until he mentioned it — the last remaining sparks of fire still burning in my throat. I stopped breathing and cupped my neck in my hands.

I meant to say something like "ow" or "ouch," but instead, a harsh, guttural growl ripped from my throat. Jisung and I both flinched.

"It hurts," I squeaked.

"Blood will make it feel better — do you want to hunt?"

"Mm."

I was on my feet in a millisecond. I stumbled a bit, dizzy.

Then Jisung was next to me, and he took my hands, trying to steady me.

"It'll get easier," he said. "Try to move slower, practice."

I wrinkled my nose and nodded. I curled and uncurled my fist, struggling to keep it from twitching.

He was staring at me, a look on his face I couldn't quite read — his eyebrows tilted and something heavy pulling his lips down.

"What?" I asked.

He sighed. "It's shallow, but your... your eyes are red. I'll miss your brown eyes."

"My eyes are red?" I spat in a garble of words.

"Do you want to see?" he asked.

"Yeah — please."

He vanished. I was dizzy again, my solace leaving the room with him. I felt like calling for him — shouting — but he was back before I had the chance. He placed a full-length mirror in front of me and showed me my reflection.

My hair was matted. The skin beneath my eyes was purple and droopy. My throat was scattered with scars — rough little ringlets, an almost-perfect carving of the predator's teeth.

I noticed all of this in an instant, but the colour of my eyes demanded my attention. Instead of the deep brown they'd been, they were a vibrant, disturbing crimson. They ticked like a metronome — shifty and wild and calculating. I had to remind myself it was just me.

Jisung peeked out from behind the mirror. "You okay?"

"It's... weird," I said. I looked down and saw I was in the same muddy jeans as I'd been in at the baseball game. My shirt was different — soft and black-and-white striped. It was his. I hugged my middle as if I was hugging him. The fabric felt nice against my uber-sensitive skin.