Jared finally got into his penthouse after a long day in his club. He usually only spent a few hours there, but once in a while his staff fucked up and he needed to take care of business himself. Not that he really minded, he liked being around humans, The moment the elevator stopped and Jared stepped out, the vampireâs hair on the back of his neck raised.
âI know youâre here.â He said as he carefully moved towards the living room, taking off his leather jacket. âI didnât think Iâd see you again. Did you get bored?â
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âI try not to make a habit of fraternizing with people like you.â
William quirked an eyebrow, his lip turning up almost imperceptibly. âIs that supposed to be damaging to my ego?â he asked. âPlease, youâre not the first person to imply that I wasnât good enough fââ He stopped the sentence, realizing before he heard it what the words might imply. Reassessed. Tried a different ending. âThat I wasnât worth your time. Because I work in the service industry. Never mind that people like you cannot exist with people like meââ
The rant he was about to enter was ended firmly by the other man putting up a hand, laughing. âNo, itâs because you look like a tool.â
At that, William did bristle a little. He hadâŠlittle use for clothes beyond the simple function of covering himself. A button-down and slacks worked just as well for this conversation at work as it would at a dinner, or a date, or a panel he was attending. Or class, should he ever attempt another degree. âClothes donât tell you who a person was,â he grumbled, knowing that wasnât true. Clothing told you rather a lot about a person. Like this person: very well-dressed, probably wealthy, concerned with appearances. Everything veryâŠtrim fit. Meanwhile, this was not the first time William had been called a tool, and surely his clothing choices had varied over those times. Which left the only conclusion to be that it was something intrinsic to him that made him seem like a tool.
Fortunately, that realization only gave him a momentâs pause. âWell.â His eyebrow quirked again. âI do suppose I will have to go on in life, even knowing that a stranger does not want to make my acquaintance on the grounds that his first impression of me was that, I quote, I âlook like a tool.â How-ever will I survive?â
âHye,â the man said.
âPardon.â
âMy name. Hye. Now itâs not a stranger who thinks you look like a tool. Itâs a person.â And with that, he walked away, leaving William with the distinct feeling that he had all together missed something.Â
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âWake up! Wake up!!! Youâre having a nightmare!â Kyung honestly didnât think twice about going to his friendâs place in the middle of the night. He knew what was going to be happening to his friend, the most he could do was be there. The nightmare though, Kyung had hoped to avoid seeing but there wasnât anything he couldnât see. His stomach churned as she shook his friend this time and started yelling again for him to wake up. Both of them didn't need to experience this nightmare.
desperate hands reached out to grab onto his bed sheets, his knuckles shifting to a paler tone as he squeezed them. his forehead is drenched in sweat. itâs a new occurrence; a vision sent through a nightmare like state. while he canât quite decipher the vision as well as heâd normally be capable of, the pain itself as excruciating as ever. no. itâs worse, much worse. his friendâs voice can be compared to lighthouse in the middle of the sea, he can hear them well despite the chaotic nature of the situation yet itâs not enough to bring him back. not yet at least, not until the vision comes to end. gasping for air, exhausted and weary eyes are finally opening after another minute or two of suffering. swallowing back clumped fragments of blood that lingered in his throat, he struggled to speak yet did so anyways. âyouâre here?â his body curled inwards, shaking lightly from the intense trauma it had gone through moments before. the skin along sections of his back is broken and tattered, new scars having formed in the process.
