🖤

You could feel yourself falling into a daze when the sound of the front door being opened and closed echoed in the hallway and reached you in the dark kitchen. You wanted to be alert, but you knew nothing of any dangers yet. Fairly so, as Doyoung was the one who turned the corner into the kitchen.

“What are you doing here?”

“I missed you” He admitted with a tired smile. You hadn’t talked as much as you should have after Johnny’s funeral. There was no bad blood or distance between you, but you supposed you both were exhausted enough to not make the effort.

You chuckled. “I missed you too. Come, sit down.”

Doyoung was already making his way over on the barstool opposite to yours, but not before finding himself some old whiskey in one of the cupboards. You grimaced at the bottle, it looked like it was older than 100 years, and watched as he poured into a glass and sat down. “I have vodka, you know, and juice.”

“This ghoulish situation calls for something more mature.” He joked in return, but there was something grim behind his eyes. Flipping a page in the book, you didn’t let your eyes fall of the raven head before you; his black orbs in line with yours and not breaking contact either.

“Johnny died in an accident. I’m sorry but what is so ghoulish by that?” You wondered, watching his face. What an odd word to describe Johnny’s death; you couldn’t help but search for double meaning in his phrasing. There was, after all, one thing that was left unexplained that very night of the crash: how did Doyoung know they had crashed?

“That night, the taxi drove you home first. We saw you go into the house. Did you leave again after we went home?”

He shook his head. “No‒”

“Then how did you know that they crashed? You called us. You knew.”

He didn’t answer.

“What are you? How much do you know?”

“Is this an interrogation now?” A chuckle. But you didn’t find it funny. “More than you know.” Was his reply, and you knew. Just like you knew with Johnny. You supposed it wasn’t fashion to be honest with you, or at the very least straightforward. It did create this uncertainty around your friendships. How could it not?

“I’m getting really tired of your lies.” You spoke and bent forward over the ivory surface to grab hold of the ugly bottle, taking a swig of the liquor inside. You wished you could have kept a straight face at the disgusting taste.

“I never lied to you.”

“Not telling me the truth is lying.”

You had him cornered. He was clearly conflicted with you and his actions in the past; judging by the way he kept sipping his drink and staring longingly into the white marble. Not feeling he could look you in the eyes, he felt ashamed for being one of your dearest friends and not even letting you on his real self. He never uttered a lie, but it was true; he had kept you in the shadows and that accounted as being untruthful.

You, too, kept sipping the disgusting drink and your grip on the glass bottle was harsh. “So, you were a vampire your entire life and I only get to know when Johnny dies?”

“We were only turned when we turned 15.”

“We? Both of you? … Why 15 years?”

His glass was empty now. “Because at 15 years you’re ready to join the side of the undead.”

“And who turned you?”

“Our parents, the clan…”

Doyoung and Johnny was turned by their parents and the clan. Were their parents’ vampires too? “The clan?”

It seemed that Doyoung had come to terms with revealing to you everything now. And, you, you were feeling the high of finally getting answers. Adrenaline pumped through your veins.

“Me and Johnny, we’re apart of the Viscardi clan. A clan of 60-or-so people and a leader. It’s nothing like the elite families of the world.” Why did you sense malice in his words?

“Our parents too; they were all turned when we were about 2 years old and they joined the clan. The leader took us in, despite it not being the right time to turn us yet, and we grew up in it. When we turned 15; in a ceremony, they turned us.

Johnny was right away taken in under the wing of our leader, he taught him the special abilities that came with being a Viscardi vampire. Only half of the Viscardi vampires get to learn manipulation, I am one of them, but Johnny, what a figure; our leader saw something extra in him, so he was on his way to becoming a shapeshifter too.”  

Shapeshifters and manipulation? Glancing back down at one of the books you had been scrolling through the past two hours now, trying to fish out one of the ones you had skimmed through previously. Not the blue one, not that one… There. Quick open to the list of content and you found the page you had been on. Special abilities within the vampire race; among the many points, you did find shapeshifting, manipulation and others. It was true.

“…So, you won’t say that the clan is a family?”

He frowned. “Absolutely not.”

“Is this why you never liked Taeyong?”

“Families are arrogant, and they patrol around like they own the world.” He pours himself some more whiskey before pausing, regretting that he served himself more. “There are many stories you should have known, Y/N. Perhaps you’ll know them all one day.” He then rose with the glass in his hand and poured it down the sink.

“How did you know that they had crashed that night?”

“I could smell their blood from a mile’s distance. Yuta and Jaehyun always smelled so sweet.”

A hot tear ran down your cheeks and landed on the paper pages underneath you.

“They don’t anymore.”

You were surprised to sense the very first tears pressing when you got to school the first day since Johnny’s funeral; you had been able to keep strong even after Taeyong left, taking with him Yuta and Jaehyun, even after Johnny’s body was buried in the ground, even after talking with Johnny’s mother, seeing the absolute grief within her immortal eyes. You held your façade through it all. But a huge chunk of the wall you had put up fell with the sight of Yuta’s favorite, your favorite table, littered with flowers, candles and a framed portrait of your friend lost.

Stopping the very second you recognized his face within the golden frame all the over on the other side of the room, you stood right in the entry, the crowd of students parting around you in sympathy. Pitiful and empathic eyes all the same as they watched you, studying your reaction. It was humiliating. Especially when you could feel the sobs threatening to burst through the last bits of your risen wall. Pouting, your chest exploded with grief; new and old. You bit your lip so hard, you drew blood, all to stop crying in the epicenter of the school. Despite all your efforts, your resistance fell when you felt two arms wrap around your shoulders from behind; and you turned in the person’s arms, not even caring of who it was, and cried into their neck.

The wall had fallen. You felt some satisfaction in watching it crumble to the ground.

“Let’s get you somewhere more private,” The voice of someone familiar spoke, and still keeping you in their embrace, they started walking back out of the cafeteria, further down the hallway in search of a less disclosed area. Keeping your head deep into the junction between their neck and their shoulder, and your arms tight around their torso. You felt them hesitate, before pushing open a door and leading you back first into wherever. With the door closing behind your savior, you finally lifted your head to meet his eyes. Soft, umber eyes stared down at you, lacking pity and all the other emotions unwanted by bystanders. Underneath the eyes, you found a round yet defined nose and pudgy lips formed into an even softer smile.

“Sicheng.” You smiled sadly, bursting back into sobs, this time over the boy you hadn’t spoken to in months. Another one left behind, you supposed. Sicheng hushed you, gently, and placed his palms over your wet cheeks. When he lifted your head, you noticed quickly that he had taken you into the boys’ bathroom, hence the hesitation. With another smile, he moved forward, placing his plump lips by the shell of your ear.

“Stop crying, now, my love,” He whispered, and as if there was something else to his words; something of a force that ventured down your spine and entered your skin, you stopped crying. My love, too. He spoke like Taeyong.

He spoke like Taeyong.

Suddenly, all the previous conversations you had had with Sicheng came flooding back over you like a tsunami; the use of the word love, the outdated humor, and the way he could never seem to relate to his peers and the modern media. You looked him up into his eyes. His face had now turned with wonder; his eyes following every confused wrinkle in your expression. You waited for a swirl of ruby, but it didn’t come. Still, you were so sure. There had to be at least a hundred years of history within Sicheng’s eyes.

“You’re one too.” You gasped and waited for a response, waiting for him to read your mind. “Am I wrong?” You wondered after a few second, to which Sicheng bit his lip.

“You’re not.” He replied.

“You’re one of…” You were interrupted by Sicheng already nodding in response. Still so sore by grief, you were already exhausted from this newfound truth. In reality, you shouldn’t have been so surprised, because by already talking to Doyoung and understanding that a big chunk of your so-called idyllic hometown was a race of the supernatural, you had started bracing yourself for the further revelations of the other side of the world, existing outside your very window. Sicheng, another good friend of you, that lived alone since he moved here and had always looked like this, despite arriving at school a couple of years back, telling everyone he was 15. How foolish you had been.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” He spoke so softly, so prettily, it was like he was hypnotizing you. “I know it must come as a shock.”

You could feel yourself getting higher, and suddenly your head rested against the wall. You felt around you, finding yourself seated at the tiled floors of the boys’ bathroom. With every second that passed, your eyesight got blurry. “Sicheng?” Calling out into the air in front of you, you heard your voice, frail and scared. Suddenly a click sounded out into the room and Sicheng made his way back over to you. His face was clear amongst the blurriness of colors and shadows, and he had that same soft smile on his lips.

“I’ll not beat around the bush. I’m here to let you join us.” He spoke. “You want that, don’t you?”

You hummed, feeling drowsy. “Join you?”

“As a vampire,” He supplied kindly. “I know Taeyong from way back. He won’t ever turn you.” His opinion caused something to stir within you, and quickly you tried to fight the high. You needed clarity. “What do you mean?”

“He can’t turn you, he won’t ever subject to this type of life. It’s not even life. He wants to, but he won’t be able to.” Sicheng placed his hands on your face, thumbs caressing the worn skin of your irritated cheeks. “That’s why I thought I’d do it for him. Do you want it? Do you want eternal life with Taeyong? To venture on with him, just you and him, forever?”

A courage and a desire spiked your mind. Yes, you want it.

“A nod isn’t enough, my love.” He chuckled. “Say it.”

Your breath hitched. “Yes, I want it.”

“Perfect, now, there are two ways to do this,” As he spoke, your sight grew blurrier and blurrier but at the same time, your mind grew clearer and clearer; as if the high was wearing off. Within clarity, your ability to be critic returned and you questioned: what exactly was Sicheng doing to you? What was this high feeling? “the pleasurable way or the painful way.”

“Pleasurable?”

“It means exactly what you think it does.”

Your heart fell, and you sensed your throat clogging up with sobs. “But Taeyong? I can’t do that too him.”

Sicheng took a while to come up with an answer, you sensed his hesitation. By now, you couldn’t make out anything in front of you, it was only a mixture of blue, beige and white; in the midst of it you could make out a mop of black which must have been Sicheng’s hair. You saw it move, back and forth, then it rose higher up, and the tan of his skin came closer; filling your whole vision. His thighs spread on either side of your hips and his presence filled the air before you.

No, I can’t.

Just as you expected Sicheng to kiss you, or to touch you; something else did. An object penetrated the muscles of your left thigh and your vision became clear. A knife perched within you. A shock of electricity shot throughout the length of your body with the number of severed nerves. You could almost see them still on the metal of the blade as Sicheng pulled it out of you, or perhaps that was just the blood. However, there was no adrenaline in your veins, no screams; you were involuntary calm. If you focused hard enough, it was almost as if you could sense this foreign force inside your body, holding your adrenaline at bay so you would feel the pain of your wound throbbing through your muscles and your nerves. Throbbing throughout the very tips of your fingers all the way to your beating heart. Without thinking, without actually having the energy to move, your hand reached out and touched the pool of blood collecting in the rip of your jean and you whispered in complete shock:

“Sicheng?”

A quick look up to him and you recognized his bloodred eyes before your whole vision blurred by his tan skin yet again as he flew forward so quickly you barely acknowledged it. He sat his teeth in your neck and held you into his chest as everything around you faded into a deep starless night sky and your heart ceased to beat.

You woke with a jolt. On your back with your arms lying flat against the mattress of some bedroom, your eyes shot around to become familiar with wherever you were. There was little you could recall; your mind was in a frenzy and every memory for the first five minutes of consciousness was blurry. The room you were within, however, was familiar. It was the master bedroom of the Rosentine; Taeyong’s bedroom.

Expecting the usual flutter of your heart with the thought of your lover, you were surprised to instead only feel this rushing feeling inside your body. It was exciting, that much was true, but the sensation was underwhelming in comparison to having a thumping heart. A sigh escaped your lips and you helped yourself up in a sitting position. The window opposite the bed showed a partly blue sky with grey clouds covering the sun every now and then. As you climbed over the sheets and the soft fur blankets of the bed, the cold air of the room hit your skin in a different way; and you noticed you had been stripped bare except your underwear. Wondering what for, you couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy. “Whatever, I’m sure I’m fine.” You assured yourself, sitting both feet down against the floor and standing up.

Your whole body felt different; you felt lighter as if you had lost several pounds, yet you didn’t look different. Within you, your heart had stopped beating, and blood didn’t flow through your veins anymore. Instead, it only filled them. Given that, you should have felt heavy and bloated, but if you recalled correctly, the blood of a turned vampire became lighter and darker so that it wasn’t a nuisance. There were different forces that kept you standing now than your heart and your blood.

You never were the best to deal with changes, but this change; this massive difference, you were excited about. You couldn’t help but tell Taeyong and live out the rest of your immortal lives together. Of course, if you’re not killed by wood, silver or fire. Memories of Johnny flooded back into your mind; his sad eyes that ceased with energy with every second that passed while he confessed how much he had loved you. Please don’t cry now, you told yourself, as you wandered out into the bathroom. The sight that met you in the mirror above the vanity was nothing too out of the ordinary. You were paler and your eyes were ruby. But the rest of you remained the same. Staring yourself into your blood eyes, you tensed your body and focused on your eyes. The tensing of your muscles caused you to close your eyes, and when you opened them again, your irises were your usual color.

Fascinated, you kept changing your irises back and forth. You giggled, excited over this small sense of power. Finally, after you were done studying yourself in the mirrors, testing new capabilities and skills; you got dressed in one of the jumpers and jeans you had left in Taeyong’s wardrobe. You had barely gotten yourself into the blue jeans when the door downstairs was opened and slammed shut. It was another moment where the loss of your heart hit you again; you expected it to thump quickly with your fear as the newcomer ran up the stairs to the bedroom. You didn’t know who you expected it to be, but your last guess would have been the one who actually showed up in front of you.

Taeyong.

“My love,” He croaked out with pain, his eyes were mournful as he fell to his knees by the open door of the bedroom. His red hair was darker now, black it was, and his skin didn’t glow much. He was clad in a simple pair of black trousers, and his chest was covered by a beige silken shirt with blue flower petals all over. He looked weak, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of regret and remorse bolt through your stomach. Despite that you had, in fact, lost your heartbeat, you could feel the burning sensations of said emotions within your chest.

“My love, my love, who did this to you?”

Your eyes stung, so suddenly, and you walked slowly over to him on the floor. “Why are you sad? We can be together now, can’t we? Forever.”

You sat down on your knees like him, taking his hands as he fell further down on the cold floor chilled by the autumn air of the wintry house. “Is that not what you wanted, Taeyong?” You couldn’t help but ask. Never before had you doubted his love for you. He didn’t answer you, instead, he threw his arms around you and drew you into his chest. With you in his arms, he scooted you both of the floor so he could rest his back against the wall. Being pushed closer and closer to him, as he sobbed underneath you, you couldn’t help but press your palm against the navy wallpaper. You didn’t know why maybe it was your instinct. With your palm against the wall, you felt vibrations throughout the skeleton of the house, the door had been closed — someone was coming in.

“Is that not what you wanted?” You repeated your question, biting back your own tears as Taeyong became wreck underneath your breasts. Why was he so sad? You couldn’t fathom it.

Instead of answering you, he repeated his own question. “Who turned you?”

“I did.”

Sicheng stood in the door, his face bore no sign of satisfaction which you expected with the way he had said that. He was clad in black from head to toe, and on his finger was a ring of silver, ironically, adorning a symbol. A detail you were sure you hadn’t noticed hadn’t it been for the absurdity of the situation. Here you were, almost naked in your sobbing boyfriend’s lap on the floor and your friend that transformed you into a vampire comes strolling in.

Suddenly, you were thrown on the floor and Taeyong had rushed to his feet. In a blink, he had Sicheng lifted and pushed against the wall, holding him by the collar of his shirt. You couldn’t do much than reach for one of the blankets to cover your body in a moment of feeling so exposed and scream for your lover to stop.

“How could you?” Taeyong spat in Sicheng’s face, enraged over the indifference in his eyes.

“It is revenge.” He replied calmly, holding his own hands over Taeyong’s fists. “You took Ten from me, so I’m taking Y/N from you.”

“What are you talking about?” You gasped and stared frightened up at your friend. Back, stared a pair of ruby eyes, as soft as ever.

“I won’t ever kill you, love,” He smiled. “I’m just taking you into my clan, before Taeyong could.”

Taeyong’s growling grew darker, deeper, and you could see his hold tightening. But you didn’t understand, so you kept digging. There was only one clan you knew about.

“… A–are you in the Viscardi clan?”

“Yes. So are you now, Y/N,” Sicheng smiled your way, before turning back to Taeyong who kept pushing him further and further into the wall. “… so are you.”

“I never meant to get Ten killed and you know that. How could you do this to us?”

“But you did, and now you have to give up your love too. She’ll come with me and become a Viscardi, the way her friend Johnny was, and the way her friend Doyoung is. She’ll probably be happier.” Taeyong was about to strike Sicheng’s jaw at his remark when your weak voice punctured the atmosphere;

“But what does this mean for us, Taeyong? It doesn’t have to be the end.”

Both men froze in their hostile position, Sicheng with his cocky, ruby eyes set on Taeyong who was still holding him by his collar against a newly formed dent in the wall. A sigh, probably from the lips of your lover. “I don’t know, my love.”

Suddenly, Sicheng landed slowly back on his feet, with Taeyong falling off his. He sunk to the floor on the other side of the room, his eyes didn’t meet yours. You could feel something deep within your stomach drop, and suddenly your whole body felt heavy with hopelessness. Sicheng smoothed out his collar and looked at you, moving over to help you to your feet. As if you were light as a feather, he pulled you to your feet. “Let’s go, love. There’s no reason for you to stay here.”

Your mind was screaming with refusal, but you physically could only whisper a soft ‘no’. “Why? I’m a free person, I want to be here. You can’t force me to go anywhere.”

“No, I can’t.” He agreed, but the intent in his eyes said otherwise. You felt chills over your back and the defiance wearing off, as if you were losing control of your own body. “But you’ll go freely.”

Just like that, you followed Sicheng out of the bedroom, down the stairs and peacefully out of the Rosentine. You weren’t strong enough to break the spell.

It truly wasn’t you who took your things and walked out of the Rosentine that day, who walked out on Taeyong. You learned that soon enough when Sicheng took you to his home. An old house, younger and less than half the size of the Rosentine; white exterior and a sharp black roof with a pale decorative trim. It laid by the cliff by the sea, on the complete other side of town from Rosentine by the lake. Even though it was a small house, in fact, you’d describe it as an old summer house if someone asked, it packed much downstairs. An entire base of hallways, grand halls and a library with an office was found underneath the house. The symbol on Sicheng’s ring was found above the walls, carved in the wood and on silver pieces all around those halls. The Viscardi symbol of an iris hugged by a thin snake. It was within those hallways and grand rooms you discovered that not only was Sicheng a member of the clan, a high-ranked member, but he was the leader; newly appointed just after Johnny’s death when his mentor stepped down.

And that was another thing you discovered about Johnny; he was about to be leader one day. Under the mentorship of the head, he would learn the two abilities that followed with being a Viscardi as well as how to lead them all one day. You hadn’t expected that. Once, you earned the truth about Johnny’s story, all in hopes of you becoming more comfortable with him being gone forever. But the more you unraveled, the more your grief grew. Not only was Johnny dead, but you were losing who he was to you, and only remembering the part of him that he had never shown you, all the truths he had held back from you. Not even in your thoughts and dreams would the Johnny you had known stay alive.

And it all was another burden to bear on your worn-out shoulders. Ever since you came to the house, you had not been allowed back to the Rosentine or to see Taeyong at all. Your insides would burn with anger and devotion, but every time you’d protest; your words would die on your tongue and the anger would not transfer to your muscles. As if you were being physically held back. And you were.

Sicheng was a master manipulator, in all ways, but he had mastered one of the abilities tied to the clan; manipulating the acts and bodies of others. He was also an appearance-changer, which meant that he could alter his looks to mimic someone else. Something that you too would learn, being just underneath Sicheng. Indeed, you were high ranked and respected among the clan, even though you were a newborn and was, in all honesty, struggling with your new identity and everything that followed. You were the only vampire that Sicheng had ever turned, so you had his full attention at all times. With school done, you devoted your time to studying in your captivity, and mastering the two arts taught to you by your leader — and not to mention: figuring out how to cut all ties with the clan and return to Taeyong.

Taeyong.

You spoke his name every night before you fell asleep and every morning when you woke up, tears in your eyes and the bond shared between you tearing at your skin; you chanted his name as if he could hear you. Hear you and come rescue you. He hadn’t shown up yet. But you weren’t too angry about it. You were wrong for expecting so much from him. With your time with Sicheng and away from him, in the midst of all the abilities of being a vampire, you had learned a more significant skill: giving yourself to your partner. The way Taeyong gave all of him to you, you had learned how to give all of yourself to him.

All you wanted now was to be able to do that.

When Sicheng trained you, you’d speak to him about old times, of all the parties you’d been to together and all the times you had gotten in trouble. You tried to appeal to his younger self, when you hadn’t been mixed into the supernatural world and he had no reason to hurt you and your boyfriend. Your boyfriend at the time being Jaehyun. That very thought would always set your skin ablaze with jealousy and hopelessness; he was a Lee now. He was where you were supposed to be.

By talking to Sicheng, you also came to know another person. Ten. A young boy who was turned at the same time as Sicheng was, by the same man. Ten and Sicheng was in the same class, a hundred years back, but had no relations whatsoever. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; Sicheng found the boy so incredibly beautiful. And Ten’s best friend, Taeyong, told Sicheng that the boy felt the same. According to your maker, the two was walking home from school one late night, finally talking, when an unknown man stepped out of the bushes, grabbed Ten and sheathed a dagger through his torso. It was the first of two times, Sicheng watched the life slip from Ten’s warm eyes. The man placed his teeth at his neck and transformed. Sicheng couldn’t remember why he didn’t run, but he was easily overpowered after Ten was drained and left on the ground. But he told you, he had never felt so happy when he and Ten woke together on a bed within the house of the Viscardi, both undead. He wouldn’t tell you how Ten was killed.

In those moments of reminiscing, you yourself felt this joy of returning to when everything was fine and so simple. It created uncertainty within you. Sicheng was so nice with you despite him holding you in the house like this. You weren’t yet allowed to travel away or go wherever you wanted. He would never lay a hand on you, but you weren’t sure he knew just how much he was hurting you anyway. Your very creation was based on a grudge and it supposedly made you unable to be with your mate. But it wasn’t only Sicheng. When you brought up Taeyong, he’d sometimes tell you to leave, that he wouldn’t stop you. But in his place, there would be something within yourself that held you back. Sometimes you felt that you didn’t yet have enough control over your capabilities and your thirst. Sometimes it would be guilt from leaving Taeyong in the first place; “he deserves better.” Other times it would be the crippling thought that Taeyong simply didn’t care anymore, that he had found someone else by now. Yet, still, all you wanted was to give yourself back to Taeyong.

You were chained.

Throughout your time with the clan and Sicheng, you had managed to befriend a couple of them which made your stay and your training not too bad. You also had Doyoung. Together, you both trained in manipulation, something that you had shown to have a natural talent for. A senior had watched you once and told you that you were rivaling Sicheng; he continued on telling you how your force would enter bodies more fluently than the leader’s and that your control was stronger. Doyoung kept telling you that, as well; unbelievably much, it was almost as if he was trying to tell you something.

“You might as well be stronger than Sicheng already, amazing.” Doyoung voiced. Despite the intensity in his voice, his eyes would not leave the book in his hand. He was propped against the wall, sitting on the bed in which you slept in, in one of the guest room on the uppermost floor of the old house. The house was tall yet narrow, and the floor your room was in only had space for three bedrooms: yours, Sicheng’s and another young vampire who you hadn’t talked much with. Usually, the house would be empty except Sicheng, but with the turning of two new vampires; you and the other girl, important clan members would gather. That’s why the house was a little crammed about now, and that Doyoung basically slept over beneath your bed. Despite that you were friendly with most members about now, the many people gathered at the house only worsened your panic and your melancholy. There was no privacy.

“Really.” Doyoung emphasized. You sighed in response, putting down your own book on the desk before you, turning the chair to face your raven headed friend atop your bed. Your friend and perhaps the only reason you hadn’t gone insane.

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head quickly, his eyes finally on you. “I’m just marveling.”

“Yeah, right.” You frowned, watching him and his dismissive eyes for an extra second. What was he saying you use your abilities for, exactly?

“You could probably look like me.”

“Yes…?”

“And do some errands for me.”

Excitement filled your chest, and you gleefully smiled up at the dark eyes of your friend. “Sure!”

Tears had already filled your eyes once you had stopped in front of the violet door of the home you still loved so dearly. The sun was out now, and the summer air was a delight against your skin. You wished you looked like yourself now, that you were wearing the very dress you had worn the first time you had come to the Rosentine, when Taeyong burnt those cookies for you. Adorning Doyoung’s face, you bit your lip to stifle your sobs when the door was finally opened for you. Behind it stood not your mate, but Yuta. He was paler, of course, and it looked as if he had just fed. His plump lips were maroon and dewy, and his eyes wide as they took in the sight of Doyoung crying on Taeyong’s porch.

“Doyoung?” He stepped aside and placed his arms around your shoulders, leading inside and down the familiar hallway until you stood in the arch into the living room. Yuta hurried to close the door behind you and back to call for Taeyong. With his back to you, you turned back to yourself. Black locks returned to your usual color, and Doyoung’s usual irises of chocolate became your ruby ones. It was your devastated eyes and wet lips that met Yuta as he turned back to you, and that met the two other men inside. Taeyong stopped by the foot of the stairs, and Jaehyun looked up from the book he was reading on the loveseat.

Time froze with their eyes upon you, before it sped back up when Taeyong appeared before you; enveloping you within his cold, yet loving embrace. Despite you both being cold now, void of any life, you had never felt so warm and happy in your entire life.

There in his arms.

“My love,” He whispered, relief within his words as he stared down into your eyes. “I’m so sorry that I haven’t come for you, I‒”

You shushed him. “It’s okay, my love, I’m here now.”

“But you can’t stay, can you?” His breath hitched, and you cuddled closer into his neck, your eyes falling onto Jaehyun who sat behind you. Wide crimson eyes stared right back at you, unreadable eyes; but you had no room for Jaehyun and his confusing acts. All you cared about was Taeyong. Oh, how the tables had turned.

“No, I can’t,” You whispered. “not yet, at least.”

Taeyong looked beaten down, but the second he saw you mirror his look, he smiled down at you and started kissing every piece of skin he could reach.

“Then let’s make this count.”

The way back to the house, you had never felt such terror. With every turn you took, you expected one of the others to jump you and grab you. With every road you ventured down, you expected Sicheng himself to come forth. Your winter and spring had been spent pent up in that house, dreaming of Taeyong and freedom. Now as summer was coming to its peak, you were finally starting to see the light of the end of the tunnel. But you still felt like the remainder of the road was tricky and not to mention dangerous. You sensed dark faces between the lush leaves of the bushes and trees you passed as you walked towards the harbor. You were getting wet from the light drizzle that came from ominous, black clouds. Only another five minutes of walking and you’d reach the house and the lithe neighborhood surrounding it. You’d already been walking an hour; it was a long way to the lake, but you didn’t want to grab any attention by asking someone to drive you, neither to nor from the Rosentine.

With a last turn, around a small summer cabin, you breathed out in relief as you noticed the front door of the house closed and all the lights out. Perhaps you’d get away with all of this; and if this first escapade had been successful, perhaps you could leave the house too. All of these thoughts came crashing down before your very feet when you were met with Sicheng in one of the chairs in the living room, the very first room you met when you stepped inside the green front door. There was no way.

“You went to see him?” Sicheng spoke, malice lacing every softly spoken word. He sat back in his chair, eyes never leaving your form. “Why would disobey me, Y/N?”

“You’re insane, Sicheng.” You spat, eyes blurred with tears and your chest filled with malice and hatred for him, for the clan. “How can you refuse me to see my soulmate? I’m broken‒”

“Because he refused me to see mine.” He screeched back, flying to his very feet before turning around to one of the cabinets behind him. He messed around in the many cupboards, appearing to search for something specific. Your mind raced to the tale of Sicheng and Ten. Sicheng’s voice was ruined, broken from almost a century of grief, it almost made you forgive him for all he’s done. Almost, being the key word here, as the clan leader had finally turned back around with what he’d been looking for. A box of matches.

Fire.

“He took Ten from me.”

“Sicheng?” You whispered, watching as he took a match out of the box and scraped against the side of the paper box. The match lit and the petite flame lit in both of your eyes, warm yet deadly. You were about to scream again when your back fell against the wall furthest away from Sicheng with the lit match. He came closer, eyes crazed and devastated; just like yours.

“Are you going to take me from Taeyong?” You asked, trying to accept the fact you were going to go tonight. You had no doubts what he could do with that mere match. Sicheng seemed caught-off-guard with your questions, with his eyes softening barely, and a soft smile to return to his wet, maroon-clad lips.

“I never want to hurt you, my love. You were my good friend long before Taeyong returned to town and marked you, ruined you. But you need this, so you never disobey me again.”

“Sicheng, listen to yourself, please.” You begged, voice breaking down with the tears that continued on running down the skin of your flushed cheeks. He was coming closer now, and just before you, he kneeled down to be on eye-level with you, who’s legs had failed underneath you, letting your weight come crashing down on the worn wooden floor. You could feel your stomach churn with the way Sicheng moved the match left, then right. It was almost burnt up by now, but that didn’t stop him. He only took the box back up, fished out another one and lit it, right before you. Ruby irises met the coral hue of the flame.

Just as Sicheng moved the match down to burn the skin of your arm, you yelped. “Sicheng, no, stop that.”

He did, but his eyes showed that it wasn’t him stopping. His eyes were vivid and black eyebrows were furrowed, as if he was trying to fight back, but to no avail. You showed greater strength than him. You won’t. With a sigh, you projected all your power into keeping the match far away from your skin till it burnt up. The very second it had diminished, you sprung to your feet and escaped to the other side of the room. Sicheng chuckled humorlessly and once again fished out the box of matches from his pockets. “So, you can control me now?” He growled, he drew out five or more matches this time, and lit one after one; only to drop them to the dry, old floor. They laid there, against the wood and burned, ominously.

“What are you d‒doing?” You hiccupped, fisting the velvet of the sofa you had sprung behind. Eyes wide and wet, the flickers of the flames growing against the floor burnt your very insides. You expected Sicheng to smirk, to be satisfied over what he had done, but when you looked back up into his blood eyes; you found them wide and terrified. His bottom lip was trembling and suddenly he was enveloped in a ring of fire.

“I‒I don’t know,” He cried. “I don’t what I have done. I’ve been going crazy ever since Taeyong came to town.” His words almost drowned in the sound of the flames spreading and engulfing the curtains and the carpets and the feet of every furniture within the living room. Smoke started rising to the roof, and your body froze, watching Sicheng in the midst of it all. It was nowhere far from you either, or you watched the room for any way out. It was quickly becoming a hopeless situation; you coughed.

Sicheng started coughing too, and the flames started biting on your feet; a sensation like a couple of bees kissing your toes ‒ not at all what you had imagined. The flames were inching further and further up and within two or three minutes from when Sicheng had dropped the matches, the entire room was blanketed in a fire that continued on eating down the house. You finally sprung into action and walked through the flames over the floor, marveling at the rather soft feeling of the fire. Why didn’t it hurt? Sicheng was another story, he had fallen to his knees, and the flames were kissing the clothes on his body, blackening and wounding his pale skin. You fell to your feet and moved your arms around Sicheng, pushing his face closer to you as you screamed;

“We’ll get out of here, hang on.”

With tears in your eyes, and a lack of energy thereof, you lifted Sicheng up into your arms and tried to walk out of the house. With the furniture, roof, and walls collapsing around you; you didn’t get far before you were knocked off your feet. Right by the stairs, you had fallen on your back, cradling Sicheng close. After all that had happened, your priority was to save him. “Is everyone else out?”

Sicheng was able to nod quickly before you tried getting back to your feet. The fire had spread throughout the entire house about now, in the midst of panicking and blanking out, logic told you it must be because the wood was so dry and old after weeks of no rain. But that really wasn’t important now, getting out was. Just as you had gotten back to your feet, a pillar of the wall between the hallway and the living room fell down before you and Sicheng. “I kept seeing Ten everywhere I went. I was going crazy.” Sicheng admitted between coughs, and you fell back to your butt in defeat, sobbing your heart out.

“It’s not,” You wheezed out, watching Sicheng’s eyes with the last bit of energy left in your body. “important.”

And with that, everything faded around you.

“It’s Y/N, right?”

Bright light pushed and pressed at your eyelids; poked until you opened them up, only to blind you when your eyes were exposed. After what seemed forever, which must have only been a couple of seconds, you were able to take in the space in which you existed. Space, as there weren’t much to it. It wasn’t a room, nor a building, or even nature. You were sitting in the middle of the void, and the very light that had woken up was gone. Every you looked ‒ void. Void of any color, void of anything material at all. “This must be a dream.” You sighed, tears of frustration and fear pressing at your very eyes. The bright light was gone, but you could see right where you were, but every other direction was gone.

“Who said my name?” You called out, hearing your own voice shiver throughout the empty space. Your answer came from behind you, and you flew around to meet the owner of it. What you met was a pale, petite man with black hair that fell down in front of his face and tickled his neck. His eyes were almond and red, his lips were pink. His lean body was clad in a pair of black trousers and a white blouse, barely buttoned. Underneath the pale cloth of the blouse was a pale, muscular chest. “Who are you?”

“I’m Ten.”

“That’s not possible.” You weakly spoke, eyes never falling of the figure in front of you. “Ten” giggled, and slowly moved over to sit down beside you.

“Remember, you’re not human anymore. As a vampire, you’re given the abilities to do a lot more than what was possible as a human.” He explained softly, just like Sicheng used to speak. Just like Taeyong spoke. “Not to say we are some type of god, but at least more superior than humans.”

Your laughter was weak, as your body felt weary and your eyes dry. Ten seemingly noticed.

“You’re in a very dangerous situation right now,” He acknowledged. “you’ll walk out the door of the house without a wound. You have the abilities of a Lee.”

You whipped your head around to catch his eyes, your voice caught in your throat. “W‒what?”

“You’re hard to damage, another trait from the firs of our line, Roma.” He explained, witnessing the fright and confusion in your eyes. Roma? All the words you couldn’t get out still hung in the air and Ten picked them down and answered them all for you. “You don’t know? The first Viscardi was a Lee vampire. There isn’t anything called a Viscardi, in reality; we’re all the same.”

He continued;

“Roma Lee was a rich widow who lived in the Rosentine. With her husband dead, she roamed the hallways of the Rosentine all alone. Her family refused her to come out of the house or to meet any of her friends, so she was incredibly depressed. One night, she had a knife against her heart when a man broke into her house. He found her like that and just as she plunged the knife through her heart, the man leaped forward and bit her neck. Thus, as you might know by now, she was turned.

Roma was a loving figure; she went around and turned her friends and family to join her as the undead. After several decades Roma was the matriarch of a big and influential family within the supernatural world. But because she was so powerful, she had many enemies. Some were even her own; one man betrayed and went on to create the Viscardi clan. Which is where we come in.”

You couldn’t help but smile, gleefully, placing your hands on Ten’s face to burn his face into your memories. But then, your smile faded, and your stomach churned. “How do I know this is true, and not me dreaming? How do I know this is not just my wildest imagination and my hopeless wishes?”

“Because of this.” Ten placed his palm over your wrist, and just as he pulled it back away; a rose was imprinted in the very skin where he had touched. The following words uttered by Ten drowned as you started falling.

Smoke.

Smoke and fire was all you could register when you opened your eyes yet again. You were propped up against the stairs, around you were a patch of untouched wood, but the smoke was thick and heavy. So thick and heavy, you could barely see the green hue of the front door. But luckily, you did, and you picked up Sicheng who laid beside you, unconscious, and fell forward towards it. The whole house had weakened from the fire, so the door didn’t resist much against the weight of you falling with Sicheng in your arms. The next thing you registered was you falling against the wet, cold ground and your face being tickled by the drenched strands of grass. Through a blurry vision, you recognized Sicheng on the ground next to you. “Because of this.” With a sudden surge of energy, you pushed yourself up from the ground to come face to face with a crowd of at least a hundred people or more, and at least five people running for you and Sicheng.

You couldn’t register who they were with your eyes so dry and smoked out; but the first one looked a bit like Doyoung. Hearing your name being screeched, you looked down at your wrist where Ten had touched you, only to find a rose scratched into your skin seemingly with a sharp nail. It was good enough for you, and you fell forward towards Sicheng, collecting him in your arms as you tried to wake him up; completely failing to recognize the ones that had ran to you.

Sicheng was weak, but a hue of ruby did show up between his lashes. A sigh gave you the sign you needed; you closed your eyes, tensed your muscles and focused on Ten’s facial features. You felt the change of hair and the gaps from the people right by you confirmed it. “Ten?” Sicheng gasped, weak and delirious from all the pain. “My love, is that you?”

The flaw with shapeshifting was that your voice remained unchanged so you could not speak, that’s why you only nodded, sitting down at the ground and placing Sicheng’s head in your lap. The people remained unrecognized in front of you and the house burned down to the ground behind you. The town’s firemen had finally arrived at the scene, but the house was not the save; much like Sicheng, as he continued on letting go of it all right in your arms. You’d be free once again, but at such a great cost you couldn’t feel positive about it.

“Ten, ten,” He chanted the name, his hand fisting the cloth of your t-shirt. You knew if he had had the energy, he would have been touching your skin, kissing you. But he didn’t have the energy, which was why you moved down to place your lips, or Ten’s lips, against Sicheng’s. In that very moment, you felt him go completely limp in your arms, taken by the burn wounds on his skin. As you backed away, slowly prying Sicheng out of your arms, you couldn’t help but marvel at the actual fragility of a vampire’s life. “I guess we’re all destined to die.” You whispered, feeling the normal sensation your hair once again before finally looking up, coming face to face with a familiar pair of chocolate eyes.

“Taeyong,” You cried, sobs shaking your body as you let yourself be ripped off the ground and into his arms. Taeyong cried, too, into the skin of your neck. He didn’t have the power to hold himself up for long, the relief and the grief all too much for him as he sat you both down on the grass. You had never held anyone so tight, and you were sure Taeyong had never cried so much for anyone else. Finally, you let yourself think in the midst of it all, you could give yourself to him as he gave himself to you.

“You look so beautiful, my love.”

You groaned out into the heated air, arms around Taeyong’s pillow and hugging it, inhaling the sweet scent of it, while Taeyong continued to kiss your wet folds. It was teasing kisses, touches that barely could be called touches that only worked to further your frustrations. “Not as beautiful as you, though.” You teased, daringly moving your hand down to tug at his hair. His arms slithered around your his and pulled you further down over the lilac, satin sheets.

Taeyong replied to that by biting the sensitive skin of your inner thigh along with a low growl. “Shut your mouth.”  

He continued teasing your heat, licking and prodding at your wet sensitivity, eliciting all these soft groans and moans from out of your lips; teasing you enough so you could feel your high coming in the faraway, only for Taeyong to rip it from you by pulling back and observing your wrecked state. It took a very particular desperate whine to escape your lips before Taeyong stopped his ministrations and gave you what you really wanted. You could feel your abdomen hot with desire and pleasure and chills that ran up your whole body when his angry and soaking tip came to rest against your clit.

“Come on, Tae,” You pouted, clawing at his muscular abdomen and his hips; doing anything to get him closer than this. “stop teasing.”

“I can’t help it,” He admitted breathlessly as he finally started thrusting the tip down, and inside your swollen lips. “you’re too precious when you look so wrecked.”

“Precious, huh?” You chuckled darkly, and in the spur of the moment, you fished out some extra strength within you to flip the two of you over. Taeyong yelped loudly as his back fell against the satin, and you quickly got to work, moving your hips up and down on his erect manhood, letting your hands wander up and down his chest. “Am I too precious now?” You teased, erratically moving your hips, fucking yourself on him, all the while your hands had landed and found leverage teasing him on his nipples which stood hard against the air of the room. You found a sweet spot over his nipples, exposed by the sound Taeyong made, the whines he let out when you toyed with them.

“Yes,” He groaned out, enjoying the view of you working him. “you do.”

He helped himself up, supported by his shoulders against the mattress, and watched where you were both connected. The juices spilling from both you and him that glistened in the golden light of the bedside lamp, working as a lubricant so you could move your hips faster and faster. “I don’t like you calling me precious.” You breathed out between moans, your hands quickly moving to claw at the muscles just underneath his neck.

“You don’t mean that.” He breathed back, which caught your attention. You stopped moving your hips up and down and settled to grinding against his abdomen, your clit gracing his wet skin. “W‒what do you mean?”

“I can sense your sincerity. You love being called precious.” He spoke softly, hands flying to claw at your bottom, trying to make you start riding him again. He was about to moan when you stopped completely; stomach churning with dread.

“Then,” You gulped. “you knew… when I came back to you the day after you told me we were mates… you knew I lied? You knew I lied about loving you? Did you know all the time?”

Despite Taeyong being the most forgiving, giving and purest creature on the planet, you did expect him to be angry, sad, or even just frustrated. Instead, he scooted back against the headboard and hugged you close to his chest. His lips reached everywhere over your face. As he spoke, he planted his feet against the mattress and lifted his hips. “I did, but that didn’t hurt me. I knew you needed time. I was willing to give you that time.”

You wanted to cry, filled with so much love and understanding, but all you could do was moan when he started thrusting up into you with all the determination he found within himself. The hand that was perched on your hips, holding you up, was perched on your clit, flicking it so you could reach one of many orgasms of the night. Finally, as you found the light in the tunnel with a seismic orgasm and a scream to the heavens, you could feel his sharp teeth prodding at your neck.