I walked, unwilling, into the meadow, sunshine crawling over my skin. Specks of light were bouncing off me, moving across the trees and grass. I refused to look at it, at myself, even though my nose was right there, flickering between my eyes.
Minho's eyes were wide, fixed on me. I felt naked. Regretful. What the hell was I doing, showing him this? He wouldn't understand what my skin meant, why it shone.
It meant that I was different. Not a human, a creature. It was a warning, telling him to wrap his head around the danger. To be afraid.
I stopped in front of him. He stared for a minute, blank, and then said simply, "Jisung, you're sparkling."
I smiled a bit. "Uh-huh."
"A vampire thing?"
"Yes."
He dropped down on the grass, looking up at me, eyes still big and curious. I sat, too.
"Can I...?" He reached for my arm.
I gave it to him, wary. He held my hand, flipped it over and pulled it closer, squinting at my palm like he was trying to read it.
"I have two questions and I really want to ask both," he said.
"Pace yourself."
He sucked in a breath, impatient. "What is this place? It's unreal."
"Haseong and Chan got married here around eighty years ago. It's special to all of us." It had been the 8 of us, Ephraim Black and his family. The afterparty had been a leisurely hike up Mount Everest — we'd left a pride flag at the top.
"Wow," Minho said. "A vampire wedding. What does that look like?"
"Pretty much the same, except our tuxes had little pop collars and capes."
"Are you joking...?"
"I wish I was." Poor Hyunjin had gotten the measurements wrong — the capes dragged on the ground. He still kicked himself for it.
"Did anyone officiate?"
"I did."
"You what?"
"I'm an ordained minister, don't act so surprised." I hadn't been the picture of a respectable minister in the 20s — we'd had to break into city hall to steal the documents.
"Have you ever gotten people married just for fun?"
"Maybe you would, you punk. I take my responsibilities seriously."
He did the 'loser' gesture on his forehead. I smacked his arm, pretending to glower.
He scooted closer. Our faces were inches apart, knees touching, his hands already hovering over my cheeks. It was overwhelming — in more ways than one — to have him so close, so suddenly. I held my breath, teeth clenched together.
"You mind if I touch your face?" he asked, his lips an awkward little smile. I shook my head.
He brushed his stubby fingertips over my cheeks, traced my eyes and nose and jaw. I took the opportunity to stare at his perfect face, so close to mine, his eyes narrowed, tongue poking out in concentration.
"Why do you sparkle like this?" he asked.
"It's a warning sign. You're supposed to run now."
"What happens if I don't run?"
That was the question — one of them. The answer was clear when I looked at him.
"Because it's you, nothing bad."
He smirked. "You won't put me in your cheeks and store me away for winter?"
Because I look like a squirrel. Very original, love. Oh, how I'd like to stuff him into a tree's hollow and protect him forever. The fact that I couldn't must have been showing on my face.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I'm just—" I assembled my thoughts. The truth was out of my mouth on an exhale. "I'm worried that... this is too inhuman. Too much. At some point, there has to be something I tell you or show you that's too much for you, and you... you'll run."
He rolled his eyes. "That's insane. You're glowing — it's beautiful."
"It's not. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have shown you."
"Why, because it's not human?" It was almost a sneer.
"Because it's misleading. It's me sending mixed messages." It's me being completely and totally in love with you, keeping myself from you, pushing you away while simultaneously drawing you in. "I've treated you badly, I haven't been a good" — I cringed — "friend."
"It's — it's whatever." He shrugged.
"I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing." His voice was more than annoyed — he sounded angry. He heaved a shoulder-raising breath. "How are you 'misleading' me?"
"I'm not done thinking about us yet," I mumbled. "About letting you in."
"Then why did you bring me here?"
"I was looking at you, and I just wanted less space between us." I had remembered the drive back from Port Angeles and wanted that kind of privacy again. I must have been high. Less space between us was the opposite of what we needed.
"And yet, you're still undecided," he murmured.
"Sorry."
"You're just so in your head." The anger was there again, colouring the way his words marched past his lips. "We're alone, in this awesome meadow, and all you can do is worry and regret."
"Sorry."
"You don't think about how it could be confusing or destabilizing for me. I get that you need to think about it, and, yeah, I haven't given you a very long time, but I... I'm giving you my heart. And you're making me wait."
The shame was back, like my skin was made of lead. You villain, I thought, how could you take his heart and mishandle it?
"I don't mean to—"
"It makes me feel like you don't care about me."
"I care about you, Minho—"
"Then act like it!"
All I could do was whisper, "I'm so sorry."
"All you ever do is apologize. Don't say you want me if you're immediately gonna call me your friend. You keep pulling me close and shutting me out, flirting with me and acting like I'm so insane for thinking that you might like me as much as I like you. And all you have to say for it is 'I'm sorry.'"
"I'm s—" I shut my stupid mouth and fixed my posture. "I mean, I don't know what to do. It's not like I'm doing this to hurt you. It's bigger than me just 'letting you in.'"
His eyes grew distant, watery. He sniffed once. Had I... made him cry? I'd thought I couldn't hate myself any more than I already did, but the pit was bottomless, a blackhole.
"If it's such a big risk, then don't let me in. But you can't keep me around on your own terms, either. Make a decision, Jisung."
I kept my eyes downcast.
"This is you treating me badly."
"I... know." How could I be such a jackass, hurting him for no reason — just because I was afraid? How could I betray him like that? How could I even begin to fix it?
"You said you wanted more — two days ago."
I opened my mouth slowly.
"I'm here for you."
I closed it.
"Jisung," he said through his teeth, "stop wallowing."
I looked up and whispered, "I don't know what to do. I'm afraid of what could happen." I looked down at the grass again, counting the blades. I didn't include that whatever I was afraid of was coming straight from my insecurities. It wasn't the big bad vampire police I'd told him about — I was just selfish, my mind stuck in an impossible future.
"We can be afraid together," he said. "Just let me in."
I was silent, mute.
He took my wrists, pulling them closer. I looked up into his eyes. "I'm right here. Let me in."
My lips felt sewn shut. I didn't speak — I couldn't remember how to.
And Minho stood.
"Minho," I murmured.
"I can't do this anymore."
If my lips had been bound before, now words spilled out uninhibited and desperate. "Wait, d-don't go, please."
He walked past me as if I hadn't spoken, toward the trees circling the meadow. He turned back and looked at me. His face was expressionless but his eyes were wet and aching.
"Talk to me when you make a goddamn decision."
"Please stop."
"You know how to stop me."
Yes, I did. And I also knew that if I wanted to stay close to him, I'd have to walk a fine line. This decision would be falling off the line completely, diving headlong to one side or the other.
Tell him yes. Love him out loud. Let him love me. Dread the end.
Tell him no. Drift around in the background of his life. When he died, maybe the edges of my grief would dull. I could know that he had lived a happy life.
There were so many things stopping me from letting him in. When he died... it would be unbearable. It'd bring pain completely unlike the fire that scorched my throat when I breathed him in. No matter how humane his death was — at 80 or 90 years, surrounded by people he loved — it would tear me apart to hear his strong and gentle heart stutter and stop.
It was selfish that I was trying to make it better for myself. Less painful by putting distance between us. I was only thinking of myself, not Minho.
But that wasn't all — my fear of his death.
Why would he even want me? Why couldn't he understand that I was something different, that a normal life wasn't an option? He would come to realize what he had lost — cuddles and meals together, going out into the sunlight — and he would resent me for it. I resented myself for it already.
The Volturi were a whole other matter. There was no law against loving humans, dating or marrying them. We'd taken a trip to Italy a few years ago — Felix and I — and determined that our family were the last thing on Aro's mind. It wasn't comforting. It meant he was in our future.
Aro and his guard visited us at least once every two decades, showed up uninvited and made sure we hadn't broken any laws, hadn't changed our minds on joining his army. He could touch one of our hands, even just lightly, and see the truth as we knew it.
And Minho would be dead. I'd be dead. I wouldn't be surprised if my brothers would be dead, as well.
It'd be safer if Minho and I were to grow apart, make separate lives. And then, when Aro inevitably came along in the future — trying to recruit Felix to be his official clairvoyant, me to be his wide-range mindreader, Changbin to be his mood-maker — maybe, just maybe, we could make it through without any casualties.
Minho and I could see each other sometimes. Maybe I'd get to meet his friends, family. Boyfriend. I'd go to the wedding if I was invited.
So that was my fate? Loving Minho, his leaving me, whichever path I chose. Could I really keep living after he was gone? Was I that strong? Would pushing him away make any difference?
It's not like I had no way out. Threatening exposure in the vampire capital of the world — Volterra, Italy — usually meant capital punishment. Besides, Jeongin had promised long ago that he would kill me if I really needed it, and I had promised him the same. He had healed since. I had not.
So this was my fate. Loving Minho, even though it would destroy me in the end.
What was wrong with me? What had happened? Sometime in my long, long, long life, I had experienced something that left me broken. So broken that I couldn't accept happiness into my life. Felix had already told me that — why did he always have to be right about everything?
Maybe it wasn't one experience. Maybe it was everything. My parents' deaths, whatever deeply buried scar that left me with. My addiction, the very real scars it left in the crooks of my elbows. Taking life from animals to sustain a life that I didn't even want to live. The innocent people I'd killed by accident. My brothers that I loved so much, knowing that I could never be good enough for them.
I could never be good enough for Minho, either.
And yet...
Yet he wanted me. My family wanted me. They'd told me over and over again, you're worth it. You're our brother. Minho had told me, you're the most human person I've ever met. I'm giving you my heart.
I couldn't think of someone who deserved his heart less. His thumping heart, unbelievably alive, brimming with love, so full that he could find it in him to love a wreck like me.
No, I didn't deserve his heart. But it was mine anyway.
I didn't want to toy with him anymore. I'd thought keeping a distance between us was for the greater good — maybe I hadn't been thinking at all. Maybe at some point I became so bitter that I couldn't see things the way others could. Chan could find a person on the edge of death and see potential. Haseong could hear of a disaster happening a landmass away and see an opportunity to help. Hyunjin could walk through a world on fire and find reason to smile.
Minho could meet a cold, reticent vampire and see someone to love.
Maybe I couldn't give him everything he deserved. A warm touch or a perfect life or any certainty. But I could give him myself. He deserved requited love, to choose his fate, to spend his life with whomever he wanted to.
And he wanted to spend it with me.
My love, my salvation, my compass, guiding me where I needed to go. All I could do was follow.
"Wait, wait, wait, please, wait, wait!"
He froze.
I ran to his side, fell to my knees and clung to his hand, pressed my forehead against it.
"Please don't go," I whispered.
He wiped his sleeve across his cheek, sniffed once. "Then don't push me away."
"I won't, I w-won't, I promise. I need you. Please stay." I clambered to my feet, wrapped my arms around him recklessly. "I'm letting you in. Please don't leave me. Stay with me. Forever."
------------------------------------------
alternate title: its sparkle time bitches
i kind of hate this chapter but I hope you liked it
bye bye~