The dull light of another cloudy day woke me. I could tell there was something I was forgetting as soon as my eyes opened. I harrumphed and squinted at the ceiling.
"Finally," I heard a voice say. Jisung straddled me, leaned down and kissed me. Everything that had happened the day before came back to me in a second. I yanked my arms out from under the covers and wound them around his middle.
"I've been waiting for you to wake up," he whispered, kissing both my cheeks and eyelids.
"You could have woken me up."
"And suffer your wrath? Yeah, no. How did you sleep?"
"Perfectly. How did y— never mind, stupid question."
He laughed, continuing his route.
"Charlie's not here, is he?"
"No. Fishing with Billy Black."
"Good."
"Very."
He almost kissed my lips again, but I cupped my hand over his mouth.
"If this is what's happening, I want to brush my teeth."
He pouted against my palm, and his eyebrows tilted in that irresistible way. It nearly broke me, but I held on. I'd only be gone a minute, and then I wouldn't have to worry about morning breath.
I patted the sides of his face. "One second?"
He fell back, sitting crosslegged next to me. I got up and sprinted out the door, stumbling over my pant legs. I heard him laugh.
It was a moment of overaggressive teeth brushing before I was running back into my room. I jumped onto my bed and hugged him, at long last.
"That was terrible — never do that again." His voice was a murmur in my ear, arms like home wrapped around my waist. "Never sleep, either. I missed you way too much."
"It was worse for me. I don't want to hang out in some dumbass dream without you."
"At least you got to be unconscious. That was eight hours of staring at your ceiling for me."
"You really just lay there all night?"
"Um. I mean, I left for a few minutes, actually."
I hugged him a little tighter, holding him to me. "You left? Why?"
"My clothes were dirty from the meadow. I didn't want to leave you, but I figured I should change while you were asleep, since it would be even worse if I left when you were awake, you know?"
"Hmph. That's kinda good thinking. If I promise never to sleep or brush my teeth, will you promise never to change your clothes?"
"Sounds reasonable — promise."
He backed away and held out his pinkie. I took his hand and kissed his fingers.
I let my eyes sweep over his new clothes. His jeans were frayed and sky blue, his shirt a burnt-reddish button-up in paisley. I resisted the urge to undo the top button just to see what his reaction would be.
"I like this shirt," I said.
"Thank you. Cherrapunji, fifty-three."
"India?"
"Yeah."
"Whoa."
"You said you dreamed," he said then. "What were you dreaming about?"
"Nothing tonight — I was way too tired." I smiled. "When I do dream, I dream about you."
He seemed to like that. "Really?"
"Mm. They were stress dreams. Don't take that the wrong way — all my dreams are stress dreams. I was afraid that... we would never get closer. I was afraid you'd leave me, even before I had you."
"You always had me. My denial was no match for your wily charms."
"My wooing."
"NO!" he yelled, slamming his fist down on his own knee. I laughed until it was hard to breathe.
When I recovered, his eyes were on me, searching my face. I could tell he was somewhere else in his head.
"What's up?" I asked, still short of breath.
"Oh, nothing," he answered with a shrug. He kissed me slowly, rhythmically, as if our lips were one of his melodies. "I just love you."
I was in love with him. My love was like air — everywhere, filling my lungs, every gap, giving me life. I wanted to shout my love from the treetops and whisper it to the wind. I loved him with my entire being, my every cell and atom and every space between.
I couldn't quite communicate this to him. My heart was racing, head spinning — my chin bounced up and down wordlessly for a solid ten seconds. He watched me, looking more and more discouraged the longer I didn't respond.
"Sorry," I managed. "I forgot how to do words. I love you, too, Jisungie. I'm in love with you."
I watched as his face drained of worry and lit up like a swell of music. He wove his arms around my neck and hugged me with a little less caution than usual.
"You're my entire world, Minho," he whispered.
"I've loved you for so long," I countered.
He stroked my hair silently for a second, and then asked, "Since when?"
"Huh?"
He pulled back and looked me in the eye. "Since when have you loved me?"
"I thought we were just one-upping each other."
"I remember literally every single second I've been in love with you." His eyes were bright, his words slightly garbled with excitement. "When did you love me back?"
I pressed my lips together, searching my brain.
"Lift up that lamp and I'll show you," I said.
"You mean the lollipop I gave you?" he guessed.
"Er, yeah. How did you know that?"
"I saw it when you asked me to get your keys."
"Oh. Right." I hadn't thought of that. It was too late to be embarrassed. "You remember the lollipop?"
"Of course." He was gone for a quarter of a second, and then he was back with the lollipop in his hands. I smiled and snatched it from him.
"I fell in love with you around then," I told him, meeting his eyes. "You know, when I came to Forks, I... was in a weird place. I've never said this before, to anyone — but the whole thing with my mom, um, hurt. That she would actually let me go. That... she would rather be with Phil than me." My voice was cracking now, something old squeezing at the back of my throat. "So, when you gave me the lollipop... it was kind of like you were telling me you wouldn't leave."
"Oh," he whispered. "And I did leave you in the beginning. Like, a lot."
"You did. It sucked."
"I'm so sorry, Minho. I'll never leave you again, I swear."
I smiled, pecked him on the lips. It felt kind of good to say all that aloud. He hung his arms over my shoulders, scratching the back of my head. (I made a startlingly feline noise.)
"I was embarrassed," he said abruptly. He sounded like he was hesitant to tell his story, but wanted to reciprocate. "By that point, I knew I was in love with you, and yet I gave you this tiny, insignificant souvenir for no specific reason."
I could tell there was more. I waited for him to continue on his own time.
"I think I wanted you to... remember me. Because I was still sure this" — he gestured to me, to himself, to the room and how we were touching — "was never going to happen. I didn't want you to forget me entirely when your life carried on."
A shudder plowed up my spine. I made another catlike sound — more of a hiss than a purr.
"Don't say stuff like that."
"All right. I'll keep it light." He grabbed the lollipop from my hands and poked my nose with it. "I'm a sucker for you."
He waited, expectant. I did nothing.
"Have a reaction!" he yelled in my face. "You're so mean! I was being cute! Have a reaction! React to me!"
I snorted.
He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers like he had a headache. I laughed and patted his hair.
"What time is it?" I asked, too lazy to look at my alarm clock.
He glanced out the window, and then said, "It's six oh-two. Wanna get breakfast?"
"I'm not sure, actually."
His head tilted.
"Making breakfast would mean we'd have to leave," I said. "I kind of adore this."
"I do, too. We can come back."
"Or we can just not go."
"You should eat, my love."
The pet name left me breathless. Much better than honey bunches.
"No, I'm too comfortable."
"Please?"
"Forget about it."
"C'mon, I can hear your stomach."
I grimaced. I could tell another substantial part of our future would include me being embarrassed by his super-vampire senses.
"Fine." I climbed off my bed — still feeling sleepy, heavy-footed. His hand slipped into mine as we wandered down the stairs and into the kitchen.
Again, the food problem. Everything quick and easy was detrimental to my health. I stared at the fridge while I thought it through, and Jisung sat at the table, scanning a newspaper clipping on the wall. 'Charlie Swan catches biggest fish, doesn't realize it's a shark.'
I got up on my tiptoes and rifled through the cabinet. I found a granola bar. I marched to the fridge and got an apple.
"I thought humans needed more... filling foods," Jisung said from behind me.
"It's fine," I replied briefly. I sat down in the chair across from him and ripped a bite off the apple. I covered my mouth as I spoke. "I don't want any distractions."
"Distractions from what?"
"You."
His face split down the middle, half a smile, half a frown. "Please don't starve yourself on my account. Please don't starve yourself at all."
"I'm not starving myself." I waved the granola bar around.
"I could make something for you. I used to watch Food Network. Do you have any English muffins?"
"We have Wonder Bread."
He winced. "I can work with that."
"You don't have to. I'm not really hungry."
"I'd beg to diff—"
"Stop listening to my stomach!"
"I can't help it!"
I bit off another chunk of apple. "I'm eating, it's okay, breathe."
He took a deliberate breath, still eyeing my pathetic breakfast.
I got up, dragged my chair closer to his, and sat down again. His arm was around my shoulders in a second. I felt his lips on the side of my head, and then gentle pull as he braided a lock of my hair.
"Minho, can I ask you something?" he said after a moment.
"Of course."
"Do you wanna meet my family?"
I didn't know what I'd been expecting him to say, but it wasn't that. I'd already met two of his brothers — Dr. Bang at the hospital and Felix at school — but circumstances had changed since then. Could they resent me for my involvement? Did they trust me with their secret — with their brother?
"Minho?"
"Uh. I'm just thinking."
"What are you thinking about?"
I turned and met his eyes. "I just — I don't really know what to expect."
"We would drive to my house. I'd introduce them to you. They'd utterly humiliate me. We would stay for a little while, and then we would come back, or go for actual, real food, or anything else you'd like."
That sounded perfect, but I was still wary. "What about your brothers? Are they — I don't know — mad at me?"
He smiled at his knees, his eyebrows popping up. The expression made me think there must have been more to the story than I knew.
"They are the opposite of mad. They practically bullied me into asking you."
"So you don't want me to meet them?"
His bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth, and his head drifted to the side. "I might sound territorial."
"Don't worry about it."
"I don't want to share you. I've longed for you — for months — and now I'm met with the prospect of wasting even an hour of our precious time together...? No."
I smiled greedily, bumping my shoulder into his.
"But," he continued, "they really want to get to know you. I thought I should at least ask. You're family to them."
I was a stranger, an outsider, yet they'd already accepted me. I fought the prickle behind my eyes.
"What are you thinking now?"
"I'm thinking I want to meet my family."
He smiled, kissed me on the cheek. "Awesome. Hey, maybe I could meet Charlie, too."
My face imploded in a grimace.
"Is that a yes?"
"That's me having an aneurysm."
"I have to meet him at some point. I'm gonna be here all the time — it's basically inevitable."
I sighed till my lungs were empty.
"At some point," I allowed. "At some other point."
He patted my knee, resigned.
~ * ~
After breakfast, we moved to the couch. Jisung asked about framed photos on the wall, and, at first, I explained them in as little detail as possible. He always coaxed the full story out of me in the end. The time my dad and I went to an amusement park; I won a snake plushie and wore it like a scarf. My mom and dad's wedding photos — featuring me, already clinging to her in the form of a bump on her stomach.
As I kept talking, the stories became less and less lighthearted. How I'd spilled grape juice on my grandparent's white carpet and had an anxiety attack. How I'd nearly drowned in a lake when I was four. How I'd made a paper mache volcano for my grade three science class, and the stupid thing didn't erupt, so I excused myself to cry in the bathroom.
Jisung cupped my face in his hands and kissed my lips and called me his love, and I found the bad memories didn't affect me the same way they had before.
We flipped through TV Guide, looking for Rocky or Rocky & Bullwinkle. Jisung was on a mission to teach me the difference between them. The latter of the two was on the cartoon channel, and we spent an hour watching and cuddling.
It was lunchtime when I got up and headed toward the staircase. Jisung watched me go, pretending to cry so hard he fell back on the couch.
I got dressed — jeans, hoodie, the usual — and brushed my hair. Rain pattered against the window, and it honestly didn't matter to me. I made my bed; it looked like two people had slept in it.
When I left my room, Jisung was standing at the bottom of the staircase, waiting for me.
I ran down the steps and literally threw myself into his arms. He caught me — making a sound like a quack — and fastened his arms around my middle.
"Doh, my lord — at least warn me next time," he laughed.
I squeezed my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck. "I knew you'd catch me."
He kissed my shoulder, and I could feel he was smiling.
~ * ~
I thought we were on our way to Jisung's house, but he had other plans. He drove us into town and parked in front of a cozy diner. He buttered me up with kisses, hooked his fingers through my belt loops and towed me into the restaurant.
I had a burger with the works and scarfed it down. Jisung found a newspaper and read me the Sunday funnies. He held his milkshake's straw in his mouth and didn't suck — because vampire. I got to drink it for him.
Once we were back on the road, I realized I had no idea where he lived. We passed over the bridge at the Calawah River, and then the road started winding into unfamiliar territory. Houses became scarce, rather a murky forest skirting the pavement ahead of us.
He turned onto an unmarked dirt road, the ferns leaving just enough room for my truck. I watched through my fingers as the path seemingly disappeared into undisturbed forest every few meters, and then reappeared each time.
Soon the trees receded, and a house came into sight on the horizon. It was large and old, sitting in the lap of a blossoming garden, with a soft brown paint job and large windows. (The word 'home' came to mind.)
At its highest peak, there was a single, dark turret. It had an almost Lovecraftian ominousness to it, and a circular window looking out over the lawn. As soon as I noticed it, I saw a ghostly figure blur out of sight.
"That's just Changbin," Jisung said suddenly. "It's his watchtower. He likes to, quote, look down on us." He laughed.
I laughed, too. For a moment, I thought I might have had something to be afraid of. They were vampires, after all — legendary monsters, devourers of the weak. It passed quickly.
Jisung parked outside a big garage. Inside was Jisung's Volvo and Jeongin's pink convertible. There were tools everywhere, oil stains and jacks and other car things. I guessed someone in the family was a mechanic.
When I turned to Jisung, he was holding my half-empty Tic Tac dispenser out to me.
"Subtle." I took it. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Are you ready?"
"Mm."
We got out of the truck, and he was taking my hand in seconds, lacing our fingers together. He led me through the grass, up the broad, welcoming stairs, and onto the porch. To the side of the front door, there were eight lawn chairs in a row, bathed in afternoon light.
Jisung opened the door, and we stepped inside.
-------------------------------------------
"I wanted to shout my love from the treetops and whisper it to the wind." That line is based off one of my mom's poems. she's an awesome poet as well as my editor — just a shoutout to her <3
and yes, Minho is going to meet the familyᵀᴹ in chapter 21. let's hope it's not a train wreck
bye!