woof i got totally carried away writing epilogues. i just love this world and the characters so much and i wasn't ready to let them go🥺
these all take place a few weeks after Minho becomes a vampire btw
hope you like them
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~ Part 1 ~
It hadn't taken long for another storm to roll over the Olympic Peaks — baseball weather. Now that I was a vampire, I could take part in the game. Now that I was a vampire, I had the time and patience necessary to care about it. The family was very excited to teach me how to play, and more than a little bit of that was because it was going to be a catastrophe.
Jisung planted me on a seemingly random spot in the field, gave me a bat, and perched a pinstripe cap on my head.
"Time for the initiation," Felix said abruptly, clapping his hands together.
Before I could react, he and the other six crowded in around me and started tickling, prodding, and poking me. I dropped to the grass and laugh-screeched till I was breathless.
Jisung came to my rescue — shooed them away like they were hyenas feasting on a carcass — and helped me to my feet. He held my face in his hands and gave me an unbearably gentle kiss.
And then jabbed his fingers into my armpits. More hysterical laughing.
They eventually left me alone. Jisung stood hundreds of feet away, tossing the ball back and forth between his hands. The rest were on standby, appraising my stance.
He threw the ball in my direction. My eyes closed as I swung. The ball flew past the bat.
"Yo, aim for the ball!" Hyunjin shouted.
"Screw off!" I called back.
I picked up the ball and flung it to Jisung. He threw it again, and this time, I kind of hit it. It veered to the side and bounced once before I scooped it up and threw it back.
There was a lot of pathetic swinging and missing. I hardly needed the storm to cover the sound of the ball's impact — the best I could get out of it was a dull thwack. It didn't even make it into the trees most of the time.
"Do you want to try pitching, my love?" Jisung asked.
I dropped my arms, zipped up to him, and frowned as I handed him the bat.
He rubbed my slumped shoulders and asked, "Having fun?"
"I'm a disgrace."
"You're our disgrace."
"Thank you, life partner."
He patted my butt before sprinting off.
"Don't hold back, Minho," Jeongin said. "Really chuck it."
"You guys can leave if you don't want to watch more of... whatever this is."
"Pshaw," Chan said. "It's cute — like watching a calf learn how to walk."
"That's very reassuring, Chan."
He shot his finger-guns at me from across the field.
I wound up and threw the ball as hard as I could. It was barely a second before a sound like thunder exploded through the clearing, and the ball sailed across the sky, toward the forest, and disappeared into the trees.
I swore loudly and threw my arms in the air. Jisung raced up and crushed me in a bear hug.
"Minho, that was fantastic!" he exclaimed.
"You're the one who hit it," I laughed.
"Yeah, but it was a good throw!"
The rest caught up and piled onto the hug. Hyunjin — surprisingly — was the one to break it up.
"Picture time," he declared. He plucked his camera out of his little satchel.
I sat down on the grass, and they all packed in around me. Chan linked our elbows, and Jisung set his chin atop my head, pinching my earlobes between his fingers. Changbin was sitting next to me with a dour expression, so I wrapped my arm around his neck and tugged him closer. Jeongin climbed onto Haseong and Seungmin's shoulders, and Felix lay sprawled out across our laps.
Hyunjin smiled at us, pressed the button, and captured the moment.
~ Part 2 ~
Jisung and I flew through the forest, left no trace, not a leaf or speck of dirt out of place — like we didn't exist at all. We came careening out of the forest and stopped in front of Charlie's house.
Being a vampire, getting to spend all my time with Jisung — I felt like my every wild, unreasonable dream had come to life... but I wished I would have enjoyed it more, living here. Maybe I could have gone over the photos hanging on the wall, focussed on the good memories instead of the awkward and terrible. Appreciated the way it looked when the soft grey light shone into the kitchen as I made breakfast. Hugged Charlie one last time, with both arms, and told him how much I loved him.
Jisung stroked the back of my head, empathy everywhere in his eyes.
"You okay?" he asked.
It felt like a wound that would never heal, a hole carved through my middle. Guilt and sorrow were as much a part of me as love and hope — the scale seemed to tip one way or another, minute by minute. I couldn't give him a simple answer, but he knew it wasn't simple — he knew better than anyone.
"I'm okay," I said. "Show me how you'd get into my room."
He darted forward, leapt from the ground to the overhang, and landed nimbly on my window sill.
I narrowed my eyes and followed as closely as I could.
I overshot my mark and found myself on the roof, arms flailing. I looked down over the gutter and saw him snickering at me. I showed him one of my fingers.
He delicately cracked open my window and slipped in like a ghost. I did the same.
I walked over to my bedside lamp, lifted it up and grabbed the sock out from underneath it. I took out my wallet. I had a feeling there used to be something else with it...
Ah. My keys. I guess they were ash on the highway now.
I finally found the lollipop stuffed all the way to the toe.
"Oh, my god, Minho," Jisung groaned from beside me. "All this for a sucker?"
"The sucker you gave me," I enunciated. "It's important to me."
"I could give you a thousand lollipops if you wanted — a million."
"You gave me this one," I said, leaning my head back and looking him in the eye, "and I fell in love with you. It's important."
He pressed his lips together. The 'I fell in love with you when' card always trumped his neurosis.
He draped himself over my shoulder while I pocketed the lollipop and repacked my Important Things Sock. I stowed it away under my lamp as it was before.
I looked around the room. The last time I'd visited Forks — when I was fourteen or so — I had taken a lot of my stuff back to Phoenix, leaving my bedroom here rather bare. There was still the crappy computer, a book or two, a few drawings on the wall. My old doodles were cute, mostly of animals, and one of Charlie holding a fish. I knew there were more by the staircase, along with photographs from my first life.
I kissed the side of Jisung's head. "Do you mind if we look around?"
His eyes fluttered.
"I'm okay, Jisungie."
"I don't know if I believe you."
"Can you believe me for the moment?"
He sighed.
We left my bedroom and walked down the hall. I stood on the first step of the staircase and examined the framed photo on the wall.
It was my middle school class photo. I gagged and continued down the stairs. Jisung followed me — thoroughly entertained by my evolution from a wide-eyed kid to an emo tween to a disillusioned teenager.
We went back through all my school photos and ended up on the first floor. The last picture was of my parents and me as a baby.
"You're cute," Jisung murmured.
I reached out and poked the baby's face. My finger made a hard clink sound when it touched the glass.
"He's dead," I said. "I'm alive... but his parents think he's dead. Crushed... burned... alone and—"
I heard footsteps. We disappeared into the rafters. I watched Charlie stumble from his bedroom to the bathroom, and then back again. He looked a thousand years older, grey hairs peeking through his usual light brown. He smelled of alcohol.
Once his door was shut, I started breathing again. It got caught in my throat as my eyes started to prickle. I dropped to the floor, trudged up the stairs, into my room, and left the way we came.
I jumped down to the lawn and ran into the woods — stopped only once I was far away from the house, from any humans. I turned around, and Jisung had his arms held out before I said a word. I hugged him and let myself cry. Minutes or hours passed, and the sky had taken on a pinkish twilight colour when I spoke.
"I don't... think I'm okay," I whispered into his shoulder. He held me tighter. "I miss him. I miss my mom."
"They miss you, too, my love," Jisung said. "Every day."
~ Part 3 ~
"Jisung, where the hell are you?!"
He zoomed to my side, kicking up the autumn leaves around us, and tipped his head back in an eye roll.
"Would it kill you to follow me?" he asked. "You don't know where we're going."
"I thought you were taking me to the beach — I found a shortcut."
He sprinted around me — gone in a second. I ran after him.
"I would know where we were going if you'd tell me," I said.
"It's a surprise, Minho," he sighed. He may have reminded me of that several times already.
"Just tell me — it'll still be a surprise."
"That would be so anticlimactic, though!"
"You're really building this up, what even—"
He stopped, and I almost crashed into him. He grabbed my waist, spun me around, and kissed the tip of my nose.
"Just trust me, my love," he said.
"Of course I trust you."
"All right, then close your eyes."
"Please tell me you're not throwing me a surprise party."
"It's not your birthday — close your eyes."
I half-closed them.
"No peeking, varmint."
I smiled and closed them all the way.
He held my shoulders and turned me around. "Now open."
My eyes snapped open and focussed on... a house.
Backed against a fringe of hemlocks, surrounded by little dandelions and daisies, Jisung's Volvo tucked in next to it — a house. Small, wood siding, painted hickory-brown, squatting on green grass. On the narrow porch, there was a leather love seat to the side of sliding glass doors.
My eyes wandered throughout the yard. Trees stood tall to all sides, a lopsided circle, hiding the cabin away from the world. It was totally secluded, totally quiet — aside from a nearby river, a road somewhere beyond the forest, birds singing, wind rustling in the branches, and light rain pattering on the wood slats of the roof.
"What do you think?" Jisung asked.
"It's a house," I squeaked. "Is it... ours?"
"Mmhmm. Do you like it?"
I whirled around and hugged him. He faltered back, laughing.
"I love it," I whispered. I pulled away and smiled. He smiled back. "Can I see the inside?"
He shimmied his shoulders a bit. "Yes."
We held hands, zipped forward and came to a halt on the porch. He fussed with the key for a minute. I tried to pinpoint our location in relation to Forks.
He eventually slid the door open and held a curtain back for me. I stepped inside, and he closed the door behind us.
The walls were white, the floors hardwood, one rug by the couch and another by the door. A kitchen — a real grown-up kitchen, with a stove and stuff — was to my right, and to my left was the deep red couch we'd bought last week. (Jisung's old couch held bad memories for me — all the pain I went through as I changed.) There were more windows than I'd noticed before, all with floral-print curtains letting a dull light shine in.
"You look overwhelmed," he said.
"I am," I replied.
"Do you want a tour?"
"Mm."
He led me to the kitchen and planted himself in front of the counter. He opened a drawer, revealing it was empty.
"We don't have any reason to cook for ourselves," he said, "but I thought we could try — like, as a hobby. You used to have a complicated relationship with cooking, right?"
"I kind of remember that."
"There's the living room." He pointed to the couch. "Over here is the dining room." He gestured to the corner, to a table and two wooden chairs. "It gets the morning sun — if there's sun."
I leaned a knee on the chair, lifted the curtain and peeked out into the yard. The forest was tall and dense, packed in on all sides. I turned back to Jisung.
"How did you find this place?" I asked.
"Haseong is friends with someone who sells to people like us. He pulled some strings."
"Like a vampire realtor?"
"Not strictly — they serve recluses, private investigators, the odd monk."
"Is it legit?"
"Totally legit, no doubt. But, Minho, if you hear beeping, you tell me immediately, okay?"
My eyebrows pulled halfway down my face.
"Kidding." He smirked cutely.
"Good one, muffin."
"Do you really like the house?" he asked abruptly, apropos only of his insecurities. "There's no pressure — we can find something else. I wanted it to be a surprise, you know? I should have talked to you. I'm sorry."
"You really spun that into an apology?"
He shrugged.
"Jisungie, I love it, seriously."
"Would you prefer something more modern? Something bigger? Smaller? I can make it happen."
"This is exactly what I want, you nutcase."
He was still skeptical. He leaned on the counter with one hand. "We'll make it homier."
I placed my hand over his. "How will we do that?"
He smiled and presented me his palms in a wide arc over his head. "Picture this: we head up to Canada, raid a couple thrift shops, an Ikea or two, come back and get it all set up."
"Could we even afford to do that now? How much did the house cost, anyway?"
"Don't worry about the money — it's not important."
"So it was a lot, then?"
He looked down at his hands like he was embarrassed. "It was a gift from the family. They paid for it. They said to think of it as a welcome. And Seungmin said to think of it as an IOU."
My mouth fell open. "They coulda given me a Hallmark card or something."
"They did that, too."
He handed me a card. I flipped it open, and that Celine Dion song started to play.
Dear Minho...
First, we know the heartache you've been through the last few weeks. We understand what it's like, and we'll be here to listen any time you need. Second, good luck dealing with that mess on your arm for the rest of eternity. Just call if you'd like us to babysit. Third, welcome home! :D
Love, your family. (And more specifically, your favourite brother and best friend, Felix, who picked out the curtains. You like?)
I smiled hugely. I closed the card — just enough that it would stop screaming — and set it down on the counter. Our first decoration.
"They're sweet," I said. "Maybe we can stop by and see them later?"
"Sure — later. Wanna see the rest of the house?"
"Of course."
He took my hand and pulled me down the short hallway.
"This is the bathroom," he said, gesturing toward the sink and shower and washer and dryer. I oohed and aahed. He led me back up the hall, to another door, and let us in.
This one was a bedroom. Blackout curtains, a closet — separated down the middle, his clothes in one half, mine in the other. Jisung's keyboard, CDs and stereo were all set up in one side of the room.
On the other side, there was a bed. Wooden frame, soft-looking pillows and a heavy white comforter. I was honestly relieved, picturing an end to the motels we'd been escaping to for the last weeks.
I turned to Jisung and furrowed my brow. "But vampires don't sleep, what's this for?"
His face positively fell.
"You have to know I'm not serious," I laughed.
"You're mean." But his hands drew me close. "And you know what it's for."
It was second nature, grabbing him and pulling him into my arms. His legs crossed and locked behind my back, his hands coiled taut in my hair, his lips pressed hard against mine. I didn't bother to close the door behind us.
Because we were home.
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i really liked writing these epilogues. my twilight has always been different than stephenie meyers', but i was always following her book, her formula. these are ONLY me, and only what I wanted to write, you know?
see you next time for a special epilogue... 👀
❤️❤️❤️