Lovelorn Princess.

That night the sky was cloudy, a storm brewing over her head. No moon nor stars were shining, no romance was in the air...

That’s probably what most expect to hear when you tell them a story as tragic of that of divorce. But it only shocks the elderly in this new day and age. Youngins don’t get married as a rule anymore, and divorce is not much of a taboo nowadays. Separation is as natural as breathing, for better or for worse. With all that said, for young Alexis, divorcing her second husband had never been part of her plans. She had hoped, truly, that they’d remain together and keep each other company in the eternal darkness of their vampirehood. Unfortunately, life had other plans, and Lexie could not stay still.

The beginning of their relationship had been filled with the usual seduction tricks and tactics, through the veil of human society. Both were trying to blend in when they met, and they instantly knew the hidden truth the other tried to conceal. It was only natural they would grow closer, seem more inclined to be with one another. She hadn’t been in London long and few vampires were open to make society with what they deemed “fresh blood”. Ironic. Only vampires not from London, or with more of an open mind, were willing to make her acquaintance.

The night they met was at a ball, of course. Only way to meet other people at that time. Children aged sixteen were thrust into the world of courtship while they mothers watched like rabid beasts, waiting to make their move and snatch themselves a good son-in-law. For Alexis, Alexandra at that time, it could be difficult to justify her appearing alone, no mother nor chaperone in sight. However, her aura tended to keep most at bay, as she silently watched the couples dance and the friends chat. Until one night, she was approached by a gentleman who looked about her age, slightly younger if anything. He smiled in a way that was gentle and understanding, a sense of recognizing glimmering in his eyes.

They danced most of the night together, and when not dancing, they talked. The whispers of scandalized mothers reached their ears, which led them to leave, each at their own time, to regroup at a different spot. After that, they would sparingly show up at balls, mostly to avoid raising suspicion. They did frequent other places the darkness offered, that weren’t too far removed from the etiquette disposed by the era. Their relationship took on some disguises (siblings, cousins, fiances, husband and wife) before they were able to think about the true nature of their union.

Other vampires they met, but with most it was polite conversation about the state of the human world and how hiding in the shadows wouldn’t be a reality forever. Some others were concerned with keeping about their wits, with art, with sex, with praying, with preying, with killing; yet Alexandra’s and John’s destiny was not swayed by these encounters. Or so they thought.

Some time after they had married, two decades perhaps, Alexandra discovered a creature that made her convictions waver. He was enchanting, thrilling, kept her interested, ignited her curiosity, and warmed her heart. Marriage to the wrong vampire is just like marriage to the wrong human. First years tend to be easy, but with the passing of time, some rough edges begin to appear and some resolved issues surface. For Lexie, it was her identity, her desire to keep busy, and her growing need to find her maker. John had become disenchanted with the outside world, too concerned with the inner workings of his mind, too taciturn and static.

So meeting Hatter had brought back the excitement to her life. She had found herself a toy. Eventually, John did too, and their lives moved forward. For thirty years, they maintained a facade of peaceful married life that behind closed doors became nothing but a mimicry of what married couples do. Ask each other about their day, any plans, any thing they could do together, only to be met with short replies and a desire for the conversation to be over. 

It’s not like Lexie gave up instantly, as soon as she began to notice how her husband actually was. But he had given up on most things by the point she had began to try to salvage anything that could be salvaged, so her attempts were mostly failures. Frustration was a constant in her life, and though from time to time they shared moments of bliss and of intimacy, the spark was mostly gone. So she felt no guilt when she ultimately acknowledge to herself she was in love with Hatter too. Her intriguing walking grandfather clock that kept her on her toes, always keeping her yearning to hear more about where he came from, and where he’d go.

It felt natural when they kissed for the first time. John knew of Hatter’s existence as Lexis’ sustenance and source of society and entertainment, so Hatter’s scent was not a problem. Usually, they’d spend just a couple of hours together, before he’d take off into his usual fits of madness which caused him to lose sense of where he was and, consequently, of her. Once that happened, she’d have a walk along the neighborhood, watch people and their night habits for quite some time, before she’d return home to a rather sulky husband. Most of the time, conversation got him out of it and they’d be able to reconnect but the effect didn’t last long.

At one point, Lexie wondered if it had been her or if John had always been wired like that. As if the torment of his life could never be overcome and he was bound to brood over events that were not relevant any longer. For some vampires, moving on was not a possibility. They just relieve significant moments of their lives as in a loop that had them stuck. John was one of them. Haunted, is how she described him.

When the split happened, John didn’t bat an eyelash and simply accepted the fact that past, present, and future couldn't be reconciled. But he asked about Hatter and Lexie was unable to hide the truth any longer. That’s when he snapped, finally. He could understand separating over their personalities, but doing so because of another was were he drew the line. She snapped too. They spent several hours stuck in a back and forth of “You are...”, “If only you weren’t...”, “I wish you’d change”, “How dare you...” 

You know how that goes.

Eventually, Lexie admitted she had been trying to run away from whence she came, and that settling down had become an even worse cage than the one she had escaped from. That sitting still was not her style, that routine was harmful, wasteful, and that without some sort of thrill or danger, she could not thrive. That Hatter kept her sane and interested, because at least he let his madness show.

John made no comment but understood the inferences he was supposed to gather from her listing. He signed the papers before he returned to his study to collect himself and decide where life would take him. Lexie wasted little time packing up whatever she actually wanted to take with her before leaving.

The moon was high up in the sky, stars could be clearly seen. Life kept going despite the break, as if none of anything had ever happened. No rain, no anger turning into passion, just an end in silence. She went straight to Hatter to think over the matter of her freedom. She knew she could not remain but leaving was rather painful at that moment. She held on for a couple of weeks before she allowed herself to be found and brought back to headquarters.

“Whatever did you do for fifty years?”

“I had nothing else to grab, darling. Those people have bad ti-- Wait, why does it matter?”

to have his life threatened with her breath fanning across his skin should seal careless remarks back into his throat. he tightens his grip on the armrests, the faintest smile twisting the corner of his mouth. mirthless, full of promise, but not smug. 

“I don’t believe you’ll do it.” ‘Surprise me’ hangs on the edge of his tongue, unsaid. He’s always searching for something more in people’s actions, Jiyoung included. Most were too predictable. He is familiar with routine, and how their relationship works. They are always toeing a line and never stepping over it.

Fingers find a place in her hair the way he knows she hates, running through long strands before he holds onto fistfuls as if he might pull her closer. 

He doesn’t.

“You’re too easy to tease.”

Teasing & teasing, round and round in circles they always go, chasing their tails like two rabid dogs. It is all fun and games for them, except when there is work on the table. She has somewhat taken over where her sister left off, though not entirely. She could never be her sister, neither have the same relationship her sister had with the man who taunts near her ear. 

He has balls, she always knew this. But he also knows her a little too well. They’ve been going at this for way too long but most creatures rely on habit and routine to feel safe. They must be no exception.

She growls under her breath when his fingers find their way into her hair and hold onto it. But she’s not growling because she can feel that awful sensation climb up her spine but she growls because he will pull her wig right off her head. As long as he doesn’t tug, she’s fine.

It was a bullet like no other had been. It burned the flesh from the inside out, it melted the muscles, the organs, the bones. And it made the receiver cry out as if mortally wounded. The scream came almost at the end of the battle, when those on the opposing team decided to finally test out their newest invention. Luckily for them, it worked, and incapacitated the most skilled of their enemies. Momentarily, that is. They had seen no wilder expression of pure rage and blood-lust before, and that was the last time they did. Like a red tornado of fury, the one in charge of those fighting in the name of the king ripped to pieces the ones who had put him in such a state of excruciating pain. Paint the roses red, huh? As red as they might already had been, they were dripping now, and several bodies (in different stages of mortal clawing) were spread before them, life gone from their open eyes. The coup had been put out, the governing body was safe, but Luxor’s body was in complete state of disarray. Covered in blood, grass and leaves, his figure seemed to be unfocused. The maddening pain had him shaking, panting, and finally falling to his knees before he fainted from blood-loss. All he remembered after that was an obnoxious ringing in his ears and the distant sound of his men calling his name.

As successful as the mission had been, an injured best weapon was no minor matter. Especially if such weapon was supposed to be able to handle any sort of injury with no repercussions. When he finally awoke, it was clearly in a hospital bed. The pain had subdued but the burning sensation was still there and the tissues surrounding the bullet throbbed uncomfortably. There was no one in the room with him but he could hear voices behind a closed door. A trained ear like his could have easily eavesdropped in on the conversation but his ears were still ringing and the voices sounded like mumbles. His jaw clenched in frustration at the prospect of having to undergo any surgical procedure or been put in the hands of human doctors. He had no idea whether his kind had branched off into the art of medicine but he would’ve much rather deal with the problem on his own. There were no sheets covering his body and he was more than certain the boss had ordered no one to touch him more than necessary. He was still dressed in his slightly torn and bloody clothes, an open wound on the right side of his chest. Close call and bad aim. Had that bullet touched his heart...he wondered whether it would have been enough to do him for good. No natural light came in through windows. As a matter of fact, there were no windows, and a faint scent of earth lingered in the air. An underground hospital? All the better. Silly of him to think he’d ever belong above ground for longer than the unholy hours of the night.

Just then, the door opened and a nurse came in, followed closely by Luxor’s right hand, Francis. Upon seeing him, the nurse’s lips tightened into a displeased line that indicated he should have been treated hours ago. Add onto that the fact that he was getting blood on fresh white sheets. Someone would have a rough night. Francis had a worried look about him, his delicate features darkened by such emotion. Neither of the visitors spoke, they just observed the boy on the bed. Did the nurse know? Was she acquainted with the secrets of the night? Telling by the way her eyebrows furrowed, it seemed she was still processing information. She looked at him as in disbelief and Luxor wondered just how much Francis had told or in what way he had explained to this innocent human the realities of the world. Either way, he wished the nurse gone and to be left alone with the only person who ever saw him at his lowest. But the nurse only walked in closer and reaches for his wrist to check for a pulse. For the first time that night, Luxor smirked in amusement. He felt like pulling away his wrist and smacking at the nurse’s bottom for getting in the way. Humans were so annoying. Francis caught Luxor’s colds eyes and begged, silently, for patience from behind the nurse.

“The monsieur might not make it if we do not proceed now,” as she said this, the nurse let go of Luxor’s wrist in a dismissive manner, as if she were dealing with a doll, to which he responded by bearing his teeth. Fucking foreign second-hand nurse. She spoke in English, which Francis and Luxor were fluent enough in, but the “monsieur” felt disrespectful. T’was a shame that she was so pretty and peppy but clearly had bad taste. She hadn’t noticed the animalistic look on Luxor’s face which was a clear warning to steer away from him but instead sat down next to him and got a hold of his collar. She intended to undress him. Luxor shot Francis a questioning look to which Francis simply sighed in a way that seemed to make him shrink; it was a miracle such a small-framed guy had made it into the team. He still thought so after all that time. Buttons were undone and ribbons were untied but before she managed to expose his chest, a dangerously powerful hand caught the nurse’s wrist as he raised his head to talk low near her ear. “What you are about to see is undisclosed. You tell, I kill you.” It took more energy than necessary for him to whisper such a threat and the light in the room began to sway. He had not had blood yet and he felt himself running low on vital energy. Had he been human, he would have broken a sweat. The nurse shuddered beside him, coming down from a moment of freeze in which she had clearly debated whether the life she had chosen was worth the work she was put through. Too weak to protest further, Luxor simply closed his eyes which the nurse took as a signal to proceed. What she saw next awed her, confused her and frightened her into another state of freeze.

Underneath the thick coat, the vest and the shirt, she found bandages tightly wrapped around the man’s upper torso. The bandages were bloody and the wound gaped painfully like an open flower. There was no further blood flowing from it although the nurse would have expected any other person to have little left to live after remaining untreated for such period of time. The wound looked fresh and old at the same time. The tissue at the opening was dark and dry, as if burnt, and from what she could see into the wound, the same situation spread that way. All she could see, was a dark pit that descended into the man’s chest. Until she noticed the why of the bandages. His chest wasn’t smooth or flat; two flattened-out mounds could be noted from under the bandages. She would have to cut through the bandages and get them out of the way to remove the bullet and she wondered just what she would find under the wrappings...Francis, who had been standing, finally took a seat beside Luxor. As natural as could be, he took the wounded man’s hand and held it to his cheek, the nurse completely ignored. She barely noticed this from the corner of her eye as she cut through the bandages, eager to put her hypothesis to the test. Down the middle she cut and rather quickly, much to Luxor’s dissatisfaction, removed them from around and underneath him...her. A woman. The nurse couldn’t help but gasp. Her gaze went from Luxor to Francis and back to Luxor who had opened his- her eyes to glare at the nurse for being so unprofessional and jumpy. “Do your job or I will bite your face off.” She barked authoritatively and the nurse apologized, flustered, before removing Luxor’s arm from within her clothes.

The procedure itself did not last long. About ten minutes between cleaning the wound, removing the bullet, cleaning the wound again and getting it wrapped up in new bandages. The after-effects were odd. Laying in the silence of the room, Francis’ heartbeat and breathing being the only sounds, Luxor could feel the hole the bullet left like an empty space in her flesh. The bullet had been commissioned to the headquarters for analysis to hopefully discover what had caused such an inconvenience. “How did it look?” she whispered to the boy beside her. “Pretty painful. Not nice.” Luxor sighed and reached with her free hand – because Francis hadn’t let go – to press it over her eyes. “Fran...I need blood.” A little giggle came from him and Luxor growled impatiently. “I know, my love. That’s why I’m here.” Francis stood up, locked the door from the inside, and proceeded to rid himself of his coat and undo the ribbon of his cravat to expose his thin neck. Luxor watched between her fingers before being cradled up by Francis as if a baby. Her arms wrapped around him and her face buried into his neck where he bit with the gentleness of a lover. Francis moaned and Luxor bit slightly harder before they became entranced by their intimate exchange. Warm blood flowed into her and she could already feel her system recovering, though the hole in her chest seemed not to budge. That would certainly take more than just one intake of blood. 

It took gritted teeth and swallowed grunts to keep his demeanor as composed as possible, although the nails digging to pillows spread along the couch probably gave away the blazing pain cursing through his veins when each piece of bullet was removed from his flesh – here’s to hoping she didn’t register that. There was silence amidst the cleansing of his wounds and the tending to his lacerations, something comfortable and yet disturbing. It had been a while since Baekhyun allowed anyone to take a step into his personal bubble to help for even a second, and yet there he stood, like a child filled with injuries, unable to actually take the toll on his own.

(It was embarrassing and he was ready to bury his head into the ground.)

The sweet voice piercing into his ear holes drew curious hues to lay upon the female, perhaps in search for a hint of sarcasm because there was certainly something different about the latter in contrast to their previous meeting. He couldn’t put his finger on it though. “Is that so?” There was amusement coating words that spilled through crimson lips, which came with silent laughter. “Being soft will only get you killed, but I’m sure you know that already.” She knew it, he knew it; they both knew, and the whole goddamn underworld probably knew it as well. The pianist has been there, he has given in to caring and the result was just as horrifying as any other.

A sigh escaped through the gap between thin lines, his figure rising from the spot on the comfortable couch to pace towards the kitchen instead where he was able to reach the refrigerator to fish out two blood bags from the lower drawer. A few seconds was all it took to have him standing before the female and throwing the plastic bag on her lap nonchalantly, hues averted elsewhere (mostly to avoid showcasing the shift from wary to serene within hazel irises) as delicate fingers popped open the cap of his own. Her injury didn’t go unnoticed through the entire time he had been sitting there, if anything, the scent of blood was aggravating. “Drink. It’ll help heal your leg faster.” It was his one and only manner of thanking the latter for saving his life, mostly because pride would never allow Baekhyun to voice out those two little words.

There’s a moment then, a pause, silence.

Did she really change her name? Interesting. “Changed your identity? What a pain.” Annoyance was probably clear in his voice as his body collapsed in exhaustion to the couch once again – the worse part of being a vampire was the identity swapping, as he would say. The rushing figure of a siberian husky bursting from the hallway and hopping on by his side before nestling itself by his thigh was what had the atmosphere shifting to something calm instead. Haru, his dog, did always make the young male go soft.

A palm came to lay against the soft fur as the latter limb was found bringing the drink in hand to his lips, allowing the vampire to take a sip of two with a pleasant hum following. Still as sweet as always. “I’m assuming it has to do with what we are. We can only go so long lying about faces and ages, after all.” It’s a simple process that they were all forced to follow. A huge pain in the ass, quite honestly. “Don’t you ever get tired of this repetitive cycle?” There’s curiosity tingling at the tip of his tongue as curious orbs rested upon the female – she had experienced it before, something the male never did.

So young and so fresh and so bluntly tainted. She had been lucky her take-off had happened at almost the turn of her first century. But no matter how different in age, circumstances and places, their hands are bloodied all the same. Their last encounter hadn’t been the best for she had come across, as per usual, a piece of her past that awoke violent emotions within her. It’s also worthy to note that she’s never been the best at first encounters with youngins; better if they don’t get too close. If a second meeting happens, then she considers it destined. Seeing this particular boy, cornered and in pain, had brought back visions of her own narrow escape so how could she let anyone suffer a similar fate? It didn’t feel motherly but it felt...sisterly. She had stumbled upon the scene but was she going to turn away from such a sight? Clearly not. Maybe she is looking for her lost sister in the eyes of others of their own kind. Maybe she is looking for her brother. Maybe she feels oddly alone even when in someone else’s company. A fragile family is a thorn on her side.

One corner of her lips curled into a small lopsided smile at his words and she dips her head in agreement, eyes fixed on him. “I have died enough times to know that. Our bodies know few ways to die while our hearts do so all the time.” She reaches up to feel the wig on her head and make sure it’s still in its place. For a moment, she wonders how she looks and instinctively sweeps the room with her eyes as if trying to find a mirror. She looks about while feigning nothing but mere curiousity for her surroundings. The simplicity and tidiness would have surprised her if she didn’t know better. Most of their kind are like that. Abandoned nomad children who belong nowhere and everywhere, the less you have, the lighter you’ll fly. Her dearest and true belongins fit in a hand-purse.

The movement at the other end of the couch has her raising an eyebrow as she watches the muscles of his back, takes in the faint scent of his blood mixed with her along with the characteristic scent of hospital that came from the first aid kit. Her eyes remain on him as he disappears into the kitchen and she doesn’t move again until the bag of blood is on her lap; she catches it before it falls onto the floor. His words get him a side-glance from her but she says nothing. She feels the bone-ache in her jaw but fights against her fangs as she removes the lid and sticks the open end of the bag into her mouth. It’d keep her sedated and sane and it’d help clean the filth she had allowed herself to taste.

She lets her body do the healing with the aid of the blood. It’s not comfortable or painless but she has gone through worse. A chuckled rumbles at the back of her throat at his comment but it takes her a little while to reply. She drinks steadily though each sip is small and controlled; she wants to make it last. The back of her thigh burns and tingles as her muscles begin to push the bullet out. Her jaw tenses up and she focuses on studying his temper instead which only makes her think of a teenager. Always annoyed at the world and unable to be bothered. Somehow, it is endearing. She definitely misses having her younger siblings around. When half the bag is gone, she parts with it to finally reply.

“Oh, I don’t change identities. I rather build them one on top of the other.”

The sudden appearance of the dog distracts her but it brings a genuine smile to her face. It makes her think of her own pups back home. They aren’t that different after all. Her eyebrows knit together just then and one of her hands reaches down to retrieve the bullet that sticks out from her flesh. She brings the stump close to her face for inspection as if looking for answers in its make-up. She feels lucky it didn’t meet her bones. After a moment, she tucks the bullet into a pocket of her jacket and leans back against the couch once more.

“Try faking your age during the 17th century.” A small snort and a shake of her head before she proceeds. “Repetitiveness has never been a factor in my life. Not one day has been like the other. Life doesn’t get boring when you’re a Hell-hound. At least, that’s how it’s been for me. You’re too young to be concerning yourself with such matters.”

“What do you want to do when you grow up, oppa?”

“An engineer. I want to make a lot of money to pay my father back for all he’s done for me.”

The reason they had become so close was because Sunggyu spent a lot of time over at Jiyoung’s house growing up. His father was out long hours to provide for his only son who had been the result of a short and troubled marriage. Jiyoung’s parents and Sunggyu’s father became friends soon after the latter moved in to the small apartment building. Jiyoung’s mom would take the two children to the kindergarten she taught at while Jiyoung’s dad worked an office job. They had their marital problems sometimes but they had managed to work through them throughout the years. To this day they remained strong. Sunggyu’s father had found a stable job through Jiyoung’s which had allowed Sunggyu to attend a rather prestigious highschool. Both of them had had a quiet and low profile primary school experience. Jiyoung had been almost as shy as Sunggyu and as they knew each other, they naturally stuck together as if glued to one another. But whenever Sunggyu was in trouble, she would always jump in to his aid. Jiyoung did make some friends during her final years but her priority was always Sunggyu, the timid and smart Sunggyu. Maybe that’s why classmates teased them by saying they were dating. When she darted to the library after lunch in search of Sunggyu, she heard someone ask if she was on her way to smooch Sunggyu. For some odd reason, her cheeks warmed up which caused her feet to pick up speed. She was usually good at ignoring the ridiculous claims their classmates made, but today was different. She had a plan she hoped would work out just fine.

It’s for his safety and well-being, she had thought the night before after having a look at her calendar, and that same phrase echoed through her mind as she searched through the library. Left behind were failed attempts by classmates to get her to go with them, but she had only one person in mind. She had always had. Going together would be the best option because she’d make sure he was accompanied and safe; he’d probably refuse to go at all if she didn’t step in. She wasn’t going to allow him to miss an important part of their way through highschool. Prom. They hadn’t spoke about it other than him asking when it was going to be, possibly to schedule something else to avoid attending. She had other plans, however, plans which did involve getting dressed up. At last she found him at the back of the library, sitting between bookshelves to conceal himself from others. Except from her; she’d know where to find him. He didn’t look up when she brought over a chair to sit beside him which allowed her to take his glasses off his face. As expected, he put the book down and blinked her as if he became suddenly aware of where he was. When he looked at whoever had taken his glasses from him, he frowned slightly as if disappointed.

“Now you’re going to tease me as well?”, he was eyeing his glasses in the hold of her fingers as she checked them for dust.

“I needed to get your attention”, but even when her inspection was done, she did not give the glasses back. “You know I wouldn’t tease you”, she said through pursed out lips. Her expression had an effect and she noticed how he straightened in his seat and looking a bit guilty of having accused her of such a thing.

“I’m sorry. What is it?”, his eyebrows raised, he gave her his full attention as his dark brown eyes studied her.

When it came down to actual business, she felt her stomach hurt as if it were shrinking itself. He was watching her in the same manner as always, intently, but it made her feel self conscious. She was nervous but she wasn’t quite sure why and her moment of silence caused Sunggyu to tilt his head in confusion before he went back to his book.

“Can I have my glasses back? I can’t see much with–”.

“Prom!”

This caught his attention once more. He blinked and his brows furrowed.

“Prom?”

“You, um…I- Ack”, she sighed with a shake of her head before she reached over for one of his hands the way she would do whenever she had something important to tell him. “Let’s have a prom. Just you and me. In my backyard.”

Now she was the one giving him the full force of her eyes and his own widened. He stared and his mouth opened slightly when realization hit him. She asked him to what? He had to be dreaming. Why would she want to stay with him instead of taking the chance to have a good time with everyone else? Sometimes he felt undeserving of her devotion. All he did was get into trouble and though he was good at studying, that was pretty much it for him.

“But…I thought…Why?”

“What do you mean “why”? Because you’re my friend and I care about you, silly. Besides, no one in this school deserves me more than you. I’ve rejected at least four invitations today”, she finished with a shrug but his heart almost burst inside his chest.

How did she manage to always say the things he needed to hear? Countless times he had worried and stressed over the idea that Jiyoung could just dessert him one day. The guys who teased him used her as his weak point; anything related to Jiyoung could always bring a reaction in him. But it was never anything good and their words only increased his anxiety, until she came to rescue him from their clutches. It had always been like that, him the victim and her the savior. He had never minded until they stopped being around the same height and he began thinking how unmanly it was of him to be protected by a girl, but she had put those thoughts out of his mind.

“I want to protect you so that you can achieve your dreams. That’s my life mission”, she had said when he proposed she left him behind. The look in her eyes had left behind any doubt, and they still did now.

“So…you want to…hang out?”, she prompted because of his silence and shocked expression.

He blinked out of his haze just in time to see his glasses return to his face, except that they weren’t the only new addition to his features. Her hands were cupping his cheeks and lightly squeezing them.

“I promise I won’t make you dance too much”, she chuckled with a smile which brought about one of his own, even if his face was a bit squished.

Without waiting for her to release his face, he leaned over to rest his forehead on her shoulder. As he moved, her hands had slipped from his face to wrap around his shoulders and her cheek lightly rested against his head.

“Thank you”, was all he said, and though she didn’t quite know what he was thanking her for, she always liked him for who he was.

She took a calm drag from her cigarette and focused her attention on her hearing. Their breaths, their hearts, their shoes, a phone buzzing. Her eyebrows rised in interest as she flicked ashes off her cigarette. The one to her far left picked up and growled into the phone. Change of plans. They were to turn around and let her go, for now. She couldn’t help to smirk as the tables turned. The phone call was brief but the phone buzzed again with what she assumed to be their new instructions. She was getting out of their trail but they now were in hers. To leave your back open to a beast was the certified way to get killed but she’d let them go. One by one, they slowed down to a stop and changed routes sharply. What should she be tonight? Her steps did not slow down even as more distance was impossed between them but after another drag, she turned left to make a U and go after them. Annoyance had sprinted to take the stage and they’d have to pay for wasting her time. Hunt what hunts you. She quickly rid herself of her cigarette and checked her guns were where they supposed to be – hoisted in her new torso harness. She doubted whether she’d get to use them considering her guests seemed to be trained to track down a certain type of threat. Her lips pressed together into a displeased line and she made a sharp turn into a dark alley where she could climb onto a roof calmly. Most of the city slept so no wonder they were out as well as the damned.

At some point, her prey burst into run and she had to pick up her own speed to be able to follow. They were fast, faster than an untrained human, and their body language spoke of knowledge. These weren’t amateur lovers of danger and soon she discovered what they were after. A poor neighborhood, forgotten, dark and perfect for the brewing of questionable acitivty was the spot to where they had tracked down one of her own. She had to backtrack slightly not to give herself away but her jaws were tense as she surveyed the situation. The number of hunters was excessive and it seemed they were trying to negotiate with a dying boy. From what she could see from between the humans was that the other vampire was already quite tattered and when the scent of his blood reached her, a shudder ran through her body with recognition. She knew what she had to do when the weapons were raised towards him again; she gave no second thought. She rushed out from her hiding spot like a corporeal shadow, a blur to the human eye. Her hard-as-steel nails cut through necks and pierced through hearts. A few of the more trained ones, the older ones, shot a good bullets at her and she felt the heat against her skin but there was no fear to be found in the crimson eyes that hovered about them like a sight from Hell. With some of them, she grabbed their necks and squeezed hard enough to break their bones. With others, she opened their skulls with the force of a kick. Thump, thump, thump. She couldn’t stop to enjoy what she’d done until they were all dealt with or else she’d lose whatever control she had over herself and hurt more than just the humans. At one point, she did take a moment to spare the other vampire a glance to make sure he was still holding on and this costed her a knife to the side and a bullet to the back of her thigh. She let out an animalistic growl and threw herself at them. 

She took a careful deep breath that made her mouth water. Time had returned to its usual flow, and she was surrounded by corpses and fresh, warm blood. It took all her self-control not to lean down and drink to her heart’s content. But there were more pressing manners to tend to. Without a word, she picked the vampire up by resting one of his arms around her neck and wrapping one of her own around his torso. Luckily, they had cornered him into an abandoned building. When they had limped out of it, she gave a flick of her wrist and set the cold corpses on fire. No one will miss them. “This might hurt”, she sighed quietly and switched their position about so she could get them out of the neighborhood; she was carrying him bridal style. No wait allowed, she set off as fast as she could to leave behind the wicked spot. Her leg was giving her a hard time but she figured she was in better shape than the poor creature in her arms. Still, he had enough energy left in him to give her directions as to where to go – his place. She didn’t think it safe but she’d rather comply than argue when both of them were visibly shaken. The night breeze helped clear her mind and calm her down enough to cradle the male in her arms more carefully and gently. Soon enough, she was easing both of them through the open window of his apartment... 

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From hunter to nurse, she could feel his eyes fixed on her as she limped slightly about to get the needed tools to tend to his wounds, and his words bring a faint smile to her lips. The sight of the tweezers seemed to startle him only for his sudden movements to remind him the position he was in. She didn’t enjoy to see him suffer, even if he might think the opposite. At this point of her life, if someone didn’t give her real reasons to dislike them, she wouldn’t waste her time with those ill feelings. Not anymore, at least, after enjoying some sort of peace after way too long. She didn’t speak at first and chose to focus on his wounds instead. She felt pleased with her performance and she wanted to linger on the thought of it for a bit longer before having to deal with his hostile inquires, though her leg would send painful electricity up to her spine if she used it too much. One by one, she removes the bullets, and cleans at his bloodied skin with the tenderness of a mother; maybe being with Alisa had softened her considerably. After what happened to Alexei, she had refrained from getting too close to others or even showing affection, but her baby sister had helped her deal with the trauma. 

“Much has changed and happened since we last crossed paths. Maybe I’ve grown rather soft, but you and I are alike and that is enough for me.”

Once he was clean, she slid off her jacket to check her body. Her arms were almost done healing and her side just needed a bit of cleaning. The problem was her thigh. Her jaw clenched, she wondered whether she’d be able to do it by herself or if she’d had to ask for help to someone who’d probably rather kick her out right that instant. She stayed put and cleaned the side of her torso off blood though the shirt was done for. She felt her ribs getting back together underneath her fingers and she’d need to drink in order to aid the process; her mouth felt dry. She leaned back against the couch and crossed her arms over her chest, eyes closed.

“I missed you aaaaall daaaay, noonaaaa”, he said in a whiny voice before he pouted.

A soft giggle escaped her lips, her hands resting on his chest as she reached upwards to nuzzle his cheek with her nose.

“You don’t have to miss me anymore, silly. I’m right here. And your favorite food is, too.”

She nodded, proud of her accomplishment, and motioned over to the set table. He cast a hungry look over the table that was ready and waiting for them, but when he was about to release her from his hold, an idea came over him which caused him to hold her even tighter. The song in the background had caught his attention. Suddenly, his eyes were on hers, and with a swift movement, he had pulled her over to twirl about the kitchen as he sang the first two lines to her.

“It's a beautiful night, we're looking for something dumb to do. Hey baby, I think I wanna marry you.”

Her cheeks turned a faint shade of red because, even if the lyrics are not that serious, they had discussed their future as a married couple several times. He coud kneel before her right now and she wouldn’t hesitate to accept his proposal. She felt lucky, tremendously lucky, they had crossed paths to be in love. No one could be a better fit than this cheeky boy. She regained a hold over herself quick enough to reply with the next two lines.

“Is it the look in your eyes, or is it this dancing juice? Who cares baby, I think I wanna marry you.”

They weren’t exactly sure what they were doing as they danced but they attempted some sort of careful swing; no need to trash the kitchen and Jiyoung’s hour work. Valuing his girlfriend’s cooking – and his life – Jinyoung guided her over to the living room where the moon was still shining through the window. They half sang the first half of the song, sometimes singing together, sometimes one or the other, until their dancing tired them out. Then, they dropped onto the couch, a bit breathless but happy, and they started laughing as soon as they set eyes on each other again. They laughed and giggled like children for a while before he wiggled over to bring her close for a long and lazy kiss. Her arms were loosely wrapped around his neck while one of his hands was on her waist and the other searched for the remote of the music player. They kissed until the song was over – around a minute- and Jinyoung turned it off before they finally parted just enough to speak. A happy sigh fell from Jiyoung’s lips before she spoke first.

“I love you.”

“And I love you. How about we take dinner upstairs? Let’s start our free day the right way.”

The neighbourhood is foreign and that is a first for Kamiko. She would like to think that in the years she’d spent in the country, she had adventured every local nook and cranny. To find herself in an area left as a mystery is something she hadn’t expected. Little does she know that this had been because of her territorial demeanour. Only a few feet away lived another creature, similar to her kind and yet entirely different, who’s presence would make her rather defensive. However, her attention strays from the scent of another, and to the feline that approaches her. She sits perched atop the uncomfortable fence, jumping down only when the cat mewed in her direction. Kamiko sat crossed legged, staring at the hairless creature before her. What an ugly thing, had been her first thought. The second being, what a beautiful thing. However, not directed at the feline, but rather it’s owner.

The woman was slender and yet striking. Beautiful, and yet frightening. Not surprising of her kind. Kamiko had always wondered how the walking corpses managed to maintain such an enchanting aura. Her words have her grinning from ear to ear. “I’m not surprised as I don’t have a path. Only steps. Steps that led me to, what I can only conclude, is your home?” Jade eyes flicker around to appreciate her surrounding, the sound of more paws immediately catching her attention. “Do you have other animals? Do you hoard them? It’s hard to come across someone with such an affinity for pets. What do the humans call them? Crazy cat ladies?” The mischief is back on her features and she quickly closes the gap between the two, now standing a few inches away from the other. 

“In the debate of cat versus dogs, I can guarantee that there’s a clear winner.” Her voice is almost a purr as she continues, “Cats – no doubt about it.”

Silver eyes study the other woman, eyebrows slightly furrowed as she takes in the sight before her more properly. Familiarity and alarm infect her mind but she remains outwardly neutral. Slowly, she crouches to pick Diurne up into the safety of her arms. Better to be safe than sorry. If anything happened to her precious feline, heads would roll. With a faint mew, the cat settles comfortably in its owner’s arms and beings to purr although it gives full attention to the other creature. Alexis cannot deny how alluring this other non-human is but something about her screams danger. Maybe it is the subtle smell of blood or the wickedness of her grin. 

She is talking but Alexis cannot process the words clearly; her mind is trying to take her back in time. Back to a time when she crossed paths with a similar grin, a similar essence...Images come to mind but it all looks like a dream so instead of trying to decode them, she makes an effort to be civilized. Corporal’s and Pugsley’s heartbeats have her transferring her attention elsewhere for a moment and a faint growl rumbles at the back of her throat; a warning for them to stay away.

“I do have more animals. And no, I do not hoard them. I rescued one of them and the other one was left in my care by a friend.”

‘Crazy cat ladies’ causes the corners of her mouth to tighten. There is always a first time for everything, isn’t there? The muscles of her back follow those of her mouth when the other woman gets rid of any distance between them. Diurne hisses in her arms but Alexis holds her ground, a raised eyebrow an indicator of her being rather impressed with how daring the woman is. She doubts this one follows any sort of rule or code for adequate social behavior.

“I would agree, until a werewolf shows up. And werecats are not as common. But I don’t doubt that cats are superior in intellect and grace. Dogs can be a bit too...rough for my liking. Whic is why I have her. Diurne.”