I woke up well before the crack of dawn, and growled at the ceiling. The earlier I woke, the more morning I had to suffer through without Jisung. I got up and immediately stubbed my toe. I supposed it was one of those days.
I flew through my routine, muttering and grumbling. I decided on a reddish-brown shirt and jeans. My hair looked like something had died on my head, so I showered and towelled it dry. I used some of Charlie's sleazy hair gel, trying to keep it from sprawling every which way. I showered again, regretting all my life choices.
I stalked downstairs to find the house empty. It was already ingrained in me that Jisung would be waiting for me once Charlie was gone. I peered out the window, watching the empty road like I could think him into existence. I sighed and gave up.
I ate a bagel, taking my time, laying upside down on the couch. (Charlie would have grunted at me for that if he was home, but he wasn't, so.) I felt myself slowly slide off the sofa, and I ended up slumped on the floor. I didn't bother to get up.
I brushed my teeth (again), made my way downstairs, and sat on the couch. I shook a militia of Tic Tacs into the front of my shirt and tossed them into my mouth like a demon devouring villagers.
I heard a knock on the door.
I sprinted into the kitchen, washed out my mouth (too many Tic Tacs), ran back to the hallway, attacked the dead lock. In my haste to get the goddamn door goddamn open, I lost my balance and teetered a little.
"You okay?" Jisung laughed, hands held out.
"Yeah," I answered blankly, breathless, staring. He was wearing a white shirt and a green-and-blue flannel unbuttoned overtop of it. His hair was swept back and ruffled slightly. He had small diamond studs in his helixes. His eyes were bright, calm, a vibrant gold. I was so happy to see him, all I could do was mumble, "Hi."
"Hi," he said, hopping up on his toes. "Are you ready?"
"Um, yes." I joined him on the porch — turned back and locked the door — and followed him onto the lawn. I climbed into my truck and reached over the seat, unlocking the passenger door.
I started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. I was excited and nervous — Jisung had always been the driver. I found myself checking the mirror every five seconds, my hands at nine and three, applying more diligence than ever.
"Where should I go?" I asked.
"Take the one-oh-one north," he said. "And please put your seatbelt on. You're freaking me out."
I sighed — took the strap, yanked it across my chest, clicked it in — feeling like an oaf.
"I like your shirt," he said then, tugging on my sleeve.
"Thank you. I'm pretty sure I found it in a free box. I like your shirt, too."
"Thanks. I sewed it myself, actually, in seventy-one."
"Oh." Sometimes I forgot he was immortal. "Well, it really makes your" — I gestured vaguely — "look pretty."
He smiled, happily accepting the compliment. "Thank you. Your hair looks nice today."
"Woo!" I threw my arm in the air triumphantly.
He laughed at my reaction. "Was it being difficult?"
"Mm. Most of my morning was washing it and drying it and washing it and— What are you doing?"
He was leaning toward me, his head tilted to the side.
"Your breath smells like mint," he observed, his eyebrows lowered suspiciously.
"I had a Tic Tac," I explained.
"Just one?"
"You tell me."
I leaned in lips-first, and he whipped back.
"Eyes on the road, eyes on the road, eyes, eyes," he said frantically, pointing.
I smiled, eyes on the road.
"Changing the subject," he mumbled, "how did you sleep?"
"Badly." I yawned at that exact moment.
"Aw, why?" He angled himself toward me.
"It was weird — not having you there. I was lonely."
"Oh." He seemed at a loss for words. I helped him out.
"Let's change the subject again. Wanna tell me about 'other factors'?"
He thought for less than a second, and then said, "Fine." He took off his boots and crossed his legs on the bench seat. His feet were aggressively cute, sheathed in mild-mannered tube socks. I fought the urge to compliment them.
"Sorry if I stutter or something while I'm explaining," he said then. "It's sort of weird to talk about."
"It's okay."
"And I'm sorry. In general."
"You can stop apologizing now."
"Sorry." He put his hands up when I glanced at him exasperatedly. "Okay, fine, I'm starting." He took a deep breath... and then let it out in a puff, and I could tell he was going to stall more.
"I really don't want you to feel uncomfortable."
"I won't."
"I don't know how to say it in a way that is both, um, accurate and eloquent."
"Oh, my god, just say it."
"I'm a vampire," he murmured, quietly, like he hoped I didn't hear, "and your blood smells very, very, very good to me."
I blinked. "I mean, that makes sense."
"No, it's... different. It smells better than others' do. It makes me... want it... I am so sorry." He rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, squeezing his eyes shut. He sounded agonized. Panic blossomed in my stomach, like any pain he felt, I felt by proxy.
"Um, I don't really know how to respond to that," I said, "but you seem upset."
"I just — I don't want you to be angry or uncomfortable or afraid of me."
"You literally tell me to be afraid of you every chance you get."
He was quiet for a moment. I looked over at him, and he was staring at me, eyes blank like he was somewhere else. When he spoke, the words came in a rush.
"I want you to be afraid of me and I don't at the same time. If you were afraid, you would leave me, and you would be safe, which is what I want — so much. But if you left me, I would have... nothing. So I both want you to be afraid and not... Are you afraid?"
My mind was hung up on the 'nothing.' "I'm not afraid. Sorry to disappoint."
He sighed. "Only one side of me is disappointed. The other is happy."
"All of me is happy. I like spending time with you."
He smiled a little. "Me, too."
"Er, where should I go now?"
"Oh, right. Go right on the one-ten, please. Drive till the pavement ends."
"Okay... You know what, tell me more," I said. "What about my blood is attractive to you?"
He was hesitant, but answered anyway. "It feels like the smell is tailored to me, almost. It makes breathing around you" — he grimaced — "difficult, though I'm mostly immune to humans now."
"Immune?"
"I can be around them without... you know."
"Is it hard to be around me because...?"
"It was. I mean, it still is. But less and less. It's why I try to refrain from contact with you, when it's possible."
I suddenly felt embarrassed for the plethora of times I'd thrown myself at him. I'd lunged at him not ten minutes earlier.
"I'm sorry, Jisung. I guess it would be easier for you to be around me if I wasn't so..." I didn't know how to finish my sentence. 'Obsessed with everything about you' and 'desperate to touch you' both seemed too blunt — however accurate. He spoke before I could think of something.
"Please don't apologize. I should be apologizing."
"You already did. You've really been going through this since we met?"
"Yeah."
"You could have told me."
"I'm sorry I didn't. The opportunity never arose... Can I say something?"
"Please do."
"When we met for the first time, your — um, appeal? — caught me by surprise. I was panicking, using every bit of strength I had to restrain myself, yet, when you tripped, I automatically reached out to catch you. I pulled my arms back, focussing on maintaining control, but it was beyond my imagination that I could feel empathy when I was compromised like that. It was because of you.
"I left Forks after that. I was trying to avoid you, in all honesty. I didn't plan to come back, but I couldn't take it. That was because of you, too."
We were both smiling sheepishly, avoiding each other's eyes.
"I was happy when you came back," I murmured. "Suspicious, but happy."
"And you're really not scared? Now?"
"No." I couldn't remember a single instance I'd been afraid of him — not when he acted so strangely around me in the beginning, not when he told me he was a vampire, not even now, when he said he wanted to eat me. I couldn't find a single emotion I felt toward him other than compassion and respect and love.
"I've been pretty good at pretending to be a human, haven't I?" he muttered.
The way he said it was wry, but the implication seemed heavy to me. I looked at him.
"Why 'pretending'?" I asked.
"I'm not a human. I can only pretend — we have to pretend."
I shook my head a little. "Jisung, you're human. I think you're the most human person I've ever met."
He stared at me, his eyes like golden moons in a clear white sky.
The pavement ended, and a wooden marker told me where to park. I saw a small foot path trailing up and disappearing into the forest. It was almost undistinguishable from the wall of trees stretching upward.
"So it's a Hike hike," I muttered, staring at the path.
"Mmhmm." Jisung was yanking on his boots.
"You didn't happen to bring a ton of snacks, did you?"
"There's a gas station half a mile west — I could run and grab you something?" His offer was entirely earnest.
I just blinked at him, melting into a puddle.
"Minho?"
"Um, no, thanks," I said. "You're really sweet."
He smiled, his shoulders floating up.
We got out of the truck, walked past the forest edge and into the trees. It was a steady climb, the path and plant life making a natural staircase. Jisung held the ferns out of the way for me, and I thanked him every time, which eventually transitioned into a full-body bow. He laughed and bowed as well, accidentally bumping my head in the middle — which made us laugh harder.
It started to feel like we'd been walking for hours. (I didn't complain — I never wanted it to end.) I couldn't see the light through the gaps in the green and brown maze; it could have been afternoon already, for all I knew.
Then, a few yards later, I could see a change in light. A buttery yellow instead of the usual grey-green mystic veil.
As I pushed past the last row of ferns, I saw a more gorgeous scene than I'd ever imagined. I walked out into the meadow before me, till I was in the very centre, my eyes wide. It looked like something out of a fairytale — not even passably related to Forks. Thimble-sized sky blue, cotton-candy pink and white flowers peppered the green grass, trees around the perimeter like a shield against the outside world. I tipped my chin up, closing my eyes and feeling the sun on my face.
I looked to my side, and found I was alone. I spun around in a quick circle and spotted him — still under the cover of trees. I'd almost forgotten about the mystery of Jisung and the sun. I held out my hands, inviting him forward.
He was shaking, his hands fidgeting at his sides. He shrugged out of his flannel, tied it around his waist, and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt to his forearms.
He inhaled deeply before stepping into the sunlight.