For a moment, all I could comprehend was the absence of pain.
And then I realized I was alive, I was okay — better than okay. I felt good. Weightless and alert and free, like I'd been lost in a cloud of smoke all my life, walking around with skin made of iron. I wasn't breathing, I didn't need to — it felt redundant when I tried.
I stared at the ceiling above me. I saw each individual crack and bump in its surface, memorized them. Light was leaking through the window — the position of the sun told me it was around one-thirty in the afternoon. I could see traces of rainbow stretching across the room — all six colours in the spectrum, plus one more between green and blue that I didn't have a name for.
I looked away from the ceiling, and the first thing I saw was Jisung's face. His eyes were wide and wary, and he had my arm pinned to the couch. I remembered I had been thrashing. My hand was crushed around his, still squeezing. I uncurled my fingers and took my hand back.
Jisung mirrored me, let my wrist go and leaned back. He was kneeling on the floor next to me. I was half-lying lengthwise across his couch, frozen.
I sat up. The movement was practically invisible — like I had skipped the physical action and got right to the end result. I shuddered, and it wasn't because I was cold or afraid. I could feel power in me, quivering in my fingertips, making my muscles twitch. I closed my eyes for a minute.
"Minho?"
Jisung was staring up at me, measuring my reaction. I realized, along with all the other realizations jamming my brain, that his whole face was different. More distinct, clearer — my eyes could finally process him. He looked so much more real. His acne scars more noticeable, his front teeth crooked, his eyebrows pulled so tightly together that he would likely develop a wrinkle. There was a triangular scar on his forehead that I hadn't seen till now.
He was so goddamn beautiful.
He cautiously placed one hand on my knee. "My love," he whispered.
I wanted to hold his hand, and I was doing exactly that before I consciously thought to do it. I turned his palm up, laced our fingers together, felt his skin...
He wasn't cold. My body went into lockdown, totally motionless — a vampire thing, I guess. I couldn't describe the ache I felt for his touch. It was beyond physical or emotional or anything else.
Slowly, matching his wariness, I lifted myself off the couch, onto his lap, and wrapped my arms around his neck. I had been bound for days, drowning in fire, and now I found shelter in his arms. Looking back, it felt like he'd been a figment of my imagination, dreamed up to help me through the change.
I couldn't believe he was real. I couldn't believe he was real and here and warm and mine.
"Oh, my god," were the first words out of my mouth. I flinched when I heard myself. My voice was pretty — sharp and deliberate, and, for the first time since I was fourteen, it didn't crack. I cleared my throat and spoke again. "Oh, my god."
"You're safe, Minho," Jisung said, rubbing up and down my back.
"I... missed... you... so... much...," I murmured, listening to my voice, and then, "Oh, my god — I missed you so much, Jisungie."
He pulled back and held my face between his hands. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."
I could remember how it felt — the extreme white-hot, burning pain in every inch of my body — but I was just insane enough that I shrugged like it was nothing.
"I'm okay." I realized I was smiling — and that just made me smile wider. I must have been acting like a baby, discovering how to smile and move and speak, but I wasn't embarrassed. I was living in a new body, starting a new life.
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.
"There was blood on your old one," he said. "It was driving everyone crazy."
I couldn't begin to guess how hard that must have been for him. He was already so vulnerable to my blood. Was this dry burn in my throat what he'd felt every second he had been with me? The restraint he must have had was unimaginable to me in that moment.
"Is this" — I pointed to my neck — "what you felt? When I was human?"
He nodded.
"That's amazing, Jisungie. I'm proud of you."
He shrugged, uncomfortable with the compliment.
"You can have a big reaction, Minho," he said. "You can scream. Cry. Hit me. I wouldn't mind."
"But... I don't want to do that."
"No one is expecting you to immediately be contented with this." He looked down. "I'm sorry... this... is all you have now."
"I'm not sorry. I wanted this." A few things were coming to mind that I'd lost and wouldn't get back. Food and sleep, obviously, but also bigger things — like my parents.
And I felt sad. I felt a massive, indescribable sorrow carving out a hole in my chest as we spoke.
But, at the same time, it felt bearable. It was the price I had to pay. I didn't need them — I didn't need to cling to them like I had when I was little.
I needed Jisung. I couldn't imagine my future without him. The options were crappy, but the choice didn't seem like a choice. He was all I needed.
His voice was quiet — I wouldn't have heard if I were still human. "You'll regret it."
I shook my head. "I could never regret you."
"You will."
"I won't."
"You just lost your life. I took your life away."
"You gave me life, dummy."
He almost smiled, but it was gone in a second.
"If I hadn't brought you to the baseball game..." He trailed off.
I suppose I would have spent a night alone while he and the rest of his family played baseball. The nomads would have joined them, and there would have been no attack. Jisung would have snuck into my room and hummed me to sleep with a blanket as a barrier between our bodies. We would have spent the morning together, suffered through school without each other, and then hid from Charlie in the evening. More slightly uncomfortable cuddling. More faraway, tongueless kissing. More boring, lukewarm human stuff. And though I loved my life before, I didn't want it. Something in me recoiled at the thought of it.
"I don't want to think about that," I said plainly.
"You can't just — just not think about it." He stared down at his fidgeting hands, his expression twisting up. "I... I killed you."
"You killed—?"
"I'm vicariously responsible for your death."
"You saved me, babe. You healed me — you brought me to life!"
"If I had just left you alone in the beginning—"
"Then a van would have squished me last month."
His mouth opened and closed and opened again. He crossed his arms.
"Isn't this better than that?" I said quietly. "I think it is."
"It's better. Of course it is — but you can't be... happy about it. I don't know if you realize how much you've lost."
I moved the mirror out of the way with as much care as I could. A light touch was enough. Overwhelming vampire strength was buzzing in my muscles, tensed like a gun waiting to be fired.
I reached out and held his hand, pulled it toward me.
"But I've gained you." I searched his face — his vulnerable eyes and bumpy cheeks and honeyed skin. "I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time. I can see you." I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, slumping into him. He supported me. "I can feel you, get closer to you. I just... I just want you to know that this might be the best day of my life."
"You're crazy."
"And?"
He turned his head, rested his cheek on my shoulder, and gently combed his fingers through my hair. "I want to apologize, but I have a feeling you would kick my ass if I did."
"You're right."
"Could I... ask for forgiveness instead?"
"You know you have it, Jisungie."
"You shouldn't give it to me so quickly. Make me work a little."
"Let one thing be easy, Jisung, just one goddamn—"
"Okay, okay." He sighed hugely, like my love was a giant, catastrophic inconvenience to his self-loathing. "I can't deserve this. You're here with me, I get to stay with you — it's everything I've ever wanted — but I've barely suffered for it."
"I think you've suffered more than you'd like to admit. I've suffered. Maybe we should just chill now."
"'We should just chill now,'" he laughed. "I adore you, Minho."
"I adore you more."
"No way."
"Yes way."
He squeezed his arms around my waist, lifted me up and spun me around. "You're wrong!"
I laughed. And started coughing, holding my throat. "Jisung, can we hunt now...?"
"Oh, yeah." He set me down.
"Did someone say noob's going hunting?" Felix poked his head in the door. "I'll come with. I have much knowledge to bequeath upon you, Minho."
Six more faces appeared in the doorway.
"So this is a family thing?" I murmured to Jisung.
"It is," he said. "Regret it now?"
I stuck my elbow into his side. "Never."
Our family crowded into the room, patted my back, patted Jisung's back, and told us they'd stay with us forever.
---------------------------------------------
you thought it was finally over, didn't you?
nope!
i'll be back with the first of three epilogues next week!❤️💖💜