Vampire PM #50
Vampire PM #49
The weight of his backpack on his shoulders felt real. Wind blew past him and the tips of his thick hair brushed against his cheekbones. It felt ticklish, and for the first time over the course of twelve months Wooyoung figured this hair had to go. It just didn’t feel like him anymore.
He was floating effortlessly at the top of the Gwangan Bridge, avoiding the glaring lights, cars zooming back and forth tens of metres below him. It was a warm night, he had two thousand 50,000 won bills in his backpack and a phone clenched in his right hand. Waiting for a call has never been so frustrating. Especially when he knew he could trace those bastards down to their lair if he went to the tteokbokki diner to catch their scent again.
Wooyoung wondered if they allowed his sister to make a call home. He wondered if their parents knew she would be late. He wondered if they worried. And the more he thought about it, the worse his stomach ache got. The effects of hunger were beginning to spread across his head, the dull pressure slowly creeping from the back of his head towards his temples. It didn’t hurt, it felt more like an itch you wanted to scratch really hard, but Wooyoung realized he could fold that sensation and tuck it into the back of his mental drawer if he focused on his stomach ache. Which, obviously, translated into genuine anxiousness.
His phone rang and he answered immediately.
“Meet me at the Jagalchi station, exit five, in twenty minutes.”
Said a curt voice and hung up immediately. Wooyoung frowned and stared at his phone for a while, not seeing anything in particular. Dongjun had mentioned something about loan sharks from Jagalchi area being associated with the vampire community, but at the point he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to make sure his sister got home safe tonight.
Wooyoung pushed his phone into his hoodie’s pocket, looked around, and shot up immediately, going as high as he could, without losing the sight of the Jagalchi area, southeast of the Gwangan Bridge. The delirious part of him, which was getting more and more pronounced with the bouts of hunger, giddily wished he could make a superhero landing, but then he mentally slapped himself and glided slowly towards the rendezvous point, as he still had some time to kill.
The man in the green t-shirt, who had recognized him as his sister’s brother, met him at the subway exit exactly twenty minutes after the call. Wooyoung appreciated the punctuality and the fact the man didn’t try to initiate small talk. He just followed him silently through narrow streets full of seafood vendors, motels, diners, trendy shops, loud people, and flashy signs.
After a few streets they entered a block full of relatively new buildings, and Wooyoung was rather surprised to see the neighbourhood didn’t look shady at all. What’s more, when they entered one of the buildings, Wooyoung realized his image of loan sharks was falsely shaped by drama and movie stereotypes. Either that or these people were really upscale because this looked like operation headquarters for some businesses conducted in shiny offices, rather than dirty lending and laundering the money afterwards.
They took an elevator to the top floor, and the man led him to a long beige corridor, eventually opening the third door on the right. Wooyoung entered not even bothering to spare the man a glance.
Contrary to what he had imagined, instead of a thick and suffocating cigarette smoke, Wooyoung was greeted with a perfectly air-conditioned office that had a slight tinge of an air freshener. The room was big, with wide windows and black furniture. It had armchairs and office chairs, and a big desk with an impressive bookshelf behind it. It was also well-lit, and at first glance it looked almost like this VIP room at the bank had had just visited.
His sister sat in one of the black leather armchairs in front of the desk, with a mug of coffee in her hands, and Wooyoung, with reluctance, felt something akin to respect for these people. For not using paper cups, for starters.
The man in white shirt was nowhere to be seen, but the blue hoodie guy stood right behind his sister, and there was another man in the room, sitting behind the big desk. He had a name plate on the desk, and Wooyoung scanned it quickly. Cha Eunpyo. Director. It said.
Wooyoung walked closer giving the man a quick once-over. He was probably in his mid-forties, his black hair sleeked back and his face clean-shaven. There were several gold and silver rings on his fingers, and he wore a white shirt with a few buttons undone at the top, a dark grey jacket flung over his shoulders. Mr Cha had an air of a man who knew he was in charge, and there was a particular jittery edge to him that said he should not be provoked.
“The brother who came back from the dead,” the man said eyeing Wooyoung thoughtfully as he approached the desk.
Wooyoung didn’t feel compelled to comment on that. He just stood in front of the desk and took off his backpack. Holding it with one hand, he pulled the zipper and one by one pulled out blocks of 50,000 won, placing them on the desktop in a painstakingly precise manner. These were new and crispy notes, still sporting the orange Bank of Korea tape. When he was done stacking all the two thousand notes on the table, Wooyoung zipped up his backpack and plopped unceremoniously into an empty armchair next to his sister. She stared at him in astonishment.
“One hundred million,” Wooyoung said.
Mr Cha took one stack from the pile and gave it a closer look, although it seemed it was merely for the show because it was obvious the money was real, and he couldn’t deny it. Yet, he stood up, walked around the desk and leaned against it, standing right in front of Wooyoung.
“What do you expect me to do with all these notes and their successive serial numbers?” he asked, thoughtfully scanning Wooyoung’s face.
“Consider the debt settled?” Wooyoung suggested. He wasn’t sure why this man in front of him didn’t look happy about the pile of cash on his desk. Mr Cha smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile.
“Have you seen yourself in the mirror, kid?” he said. “Your face and money don’t go together, so you either work with the police, which you probably don’t cuz you look too dense for that, or you either did something that will lead the cops to me if I take that money. Those are fresh from the bank,” the man leaned back and narrowed his eyes. “Which vault did you raid?”
“I emptied my account.”
It was ridiculous. Wooyoung really didn’t do anything illegal because he simply met a manager at a VVIP room in the middle of the night, gave him his passport and his Platinum card, and the next thing he knew, he had the cash delivered to him. He even had the receipt to prove it, but he wished it wouldn’t come to it. It would’ve raised more questions than answers.
The boss laughed, obviously not buying it. He leaned closer, until he was on the same eye-level with Wooyoung.
“Your account?” there was a tinge of mock in his voice.
“Yes,” Wooyoung was still emulating the standard accent without a single trace of emotion on his face. “Your people have led me to assume you don’t take cards.”
Another bout of laughter and a backhand slap on his left cheek.
Wooyoung saw it coming, but he clenched his teeth and took it, still trying to play nice. One of the man’s rings wasn’t that nice though, when it collided with his skin and ploughed through it, drawing a deep red line. Wooyoung closed his eyes.
“Some nerve you have there,” he heard the man say. “But I’m in no mood for charades. Now spill it. Who gave you the money?”
Wooyoung opened his eyes and slowly looked up at Mr Cha, his left cheek tingling with a familiar sensation.
“A bank manager,” his voice was stone-cold and the last word was accompanied by a barely audible chesty growl. He heard a sharp intake of breath on his left and he knew why: the wound on his cheek was closing right before everyone’s eyes. He could tell his sister gripped her mug tighter, and the blue-hoodie guy took a step back.
Mr Cha, on the other hand, didn’t look too surprised. If anything, there was a look of recognition in his eyes.
“Call Hyunmin,” he said, and the man who had escorted Wooyoung to the loan shark den, quickly hurried outside to give a call.
Mr Cha leisurely, albeit with a trace of caution in his gait, walked back to his chair behind the desk and settled down on it. He gave Wooyoung a thoughtful once-over, now seeing him in a completely different light.
“No wonder they thought you dead,” he smirked. “Blood bag.”
Wooyoung suddenly wondered if this was where he was supposed to call Dongjun or not. Mr Cha was definitely familiar with the nocturnal kind, but he held himself with an easy confidence that suggested he must have had some sort of a back. In a sense, Wooyoung knew that whatever card this man would pull, he still held all the aces in his hand, but he just didn’t want any skirmish.
“Miss Jang, when did your brother supposedly die again?” Mr Cha turned to Wooyoung’s sister with seemingly the most mundane question on Earth. She flinched at “supposedly,” but collected herself well enough to answer with almost an impassive:
“Summer. Last year.”
The man mulled over that small piece of information, focusing on the money and then on Wooyoung. Then back on the money and on Wooyoung again.
“A blood bag and all that, it still doesn’t explain THIS,” he gestured at the stack of yellow banknotes. “What…? A one-year-old noob? How do they even let you out without a leash?”
“My clan is in favour of practicing interpersonal respect and trust,” Wooyoung offered.
This time the man in blue hoodie chuckled, and Mr Cha looked at Wooyoung, feeling highly amused.
“And which clan is it?” he asked. “I don’t remember seeing new additions to any clan in Busan.”
“Well, maybe it’s because I don’t live in Busan?” Wooyoung said exasperated.
What was their problem? Couldn’t they just take the money and be done with it? He couldn’t believe loan sharks were so thorough about where their money came from. Did they disregard him because he was young and new? He should talk about this to Taecyeon later. Must be some sort of discrimination.
A presence crawled up his spine, and Wooyoung looked right expecting the door to open. Sure enough, it flung open in a second and there came the same green t-shirt guy with a tall and lanky man, seemingly in his twenties. Wooyoung tensed involuntarily. That man certainly wasn’t in his twenties. He was a vampire and Wooyoung could only guess his age. He could only tell the man was older than him and younger than Taecyeon.
“Who’s this?” the vampire asked staring right at Wooyoung and sizing him up and down.
“Hyunmin-ah, that’s my line,” the slight trace of tension disappeared from Mr Cha’s shoulders and he comfortably leaned into his chair. “You probably have a breach,” he gestured at the money on his desk.
The vampire called Hyunmin quickly walked over to the desk, taking in the amount of banknotes on it. The sleeves of his checkered shirt were rolled up and Wooyoung could see long scars on his forearms. Scars he could have gotten only in his human years. Hyunmin inhaled quickly as if testing something and turned to Wooyoung sharply.
“How did a newborn puppy like you get this? Whose are you?” he asked sternly.
“I got it from my own bank account. And I’d like to believe I don’t belong to anyone,” Wooyoung wondered how much longer he had to go through this until he could take his sister out of here. This was turning into a farce. He sounded like a broken record.
“Does your master know about this?”
“As far as I know, she’s dead.”
The look in Hyunmin’s eyes changed. He became wary and guarded, and Wooyoung was surprised to realize this tall vampire saw an opponent in him.
“Are you on the loose?”
“I’m on vacation.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep the community hidden when rogues like you come crashing down?”
Wooyoung almost rolled his eyes. Without any second thought, he stood up and looked up at Hyunmin the tall vampire. Man, he was taller than Ok Taecyeon.
“Look, she had a debt,” he pointed at his sister. “I repaid the debt. What on earth is everybody’s problem?” his voice gained several decibels with each word. “I told you I didn’t steal it!” he growled through clenched teeth, and the next thing he knew, his face got rammed into the expensive mahogany desk, as the older vampire tackled him in inhuman speed.
“Calm down, puppy,” he said, one hand on Wooyoung’s head, the other hand gripping both of Wooyoung’s wrists behind his back.
Jang Wooyoung wondered how he got himself into this. He was probably taken by surprise because he definitely should’ve seen it coming. Wooyoung cursed himself for getting too agitated for nothing.
“Let him go,” Wooyoung’s insides froze as he heard his sister’s voice. “If you don’t trust his money, I’ll pay you back myself, just let him go. He’s got nothing to do with it.”
“I’m afraid he’s got everything to do with this,” Hyunmin sneered at her and pushed Wooyoung’s head into the desk harder. “Don’t you, puppy?”
That did it. Wooyoung closed his eyes and calmed himself down. The grip on his hands was strong, but he could tell that this Hyunmin guy was not in full control of his strength. He relied on sheer force rather than skill, and he also didn’t take Wooyoung seriously because of his age. Wooyoung, on the other hand, was serious.
Hyunmin didn’t know what hit him when, all of a sudden, he felt he was falling down backwards. He didn’t know how the unfamiliar newborn tripped him, but once he got back on his feet, he saw a black backpack flying at him, and this time, he pulled out his short blade and sliced the backpack in half, sending earphones, random sheets of papers, sneakers, and other things flying around the room.
Wooyoung watched how the contents and remains of his favourite backpack scattered across the floor. He took a mental note to collect his wallet and his passport once he was done with this.
He recognized the blade in Hyunmin’s hand as tanto, which was a short Japanese sword, and to top it all, it was silver. Keeping the vampire in his periphery, Wooyoung took a quick look around. Everyone was too close to them, so he didn’t even hesitate when he pushed the desk and Mr Cha in his swivel chair closer to the wall, and then shoved the armchair with his sister to the farthest corner in the room. She squeaked and spilt half of her coffee. The other two men backed away on their own.
Wooyoung wished he had his training dagger with him, but then again, this man couldn’t be worse than Chansung on his moody days.
“Insolent fool,” Hyunmin hissed. “I will report you to your master.”
“I told you my master is dead,” Wooyoung prepared to defend himself.
“Then prepare to join her,” and Hyunmin the vampire lunged at him with his silver tanto in hand, aiming for Wooyoung’s neck.
His body reacted faster than his mind. His left hand caught the vampire’s wrist blocking the blow, and his right pushed Hyunmin’s fist back so hard there was a nasty crack and the vampire cried out in pain. The sword fell down on the floor with a muted clang, and the vampire pulled back holding his broken wrist.
“Who the fuck are you?!” Hyunmin bellowed, reducing his wrist to let it heal.
Wooyoung bent down to get the short silver blade off the floor. This was getting a tad anti-climactic, but he really was in no mood for this.
“You know, if you stopped harassing newborns and picked on someone your age,” Wooyoung checked the blade, marvelling at how precise it was. “Maybe you could learn a few tricks, too.”
The obvious lack of agitation in Wooyoung’s voice ticked the older vampire off and he plunged at him again without any second thought. But Wooyoung just waited for him to take three steps forward, until the bulls-eye was in a perfect position, and then he flung the blade as fast as he could, trying to rival Lee Junho the Flash in his mind.
The blade reached its target in a matter of nanoseconds, and Hyunmin stopped dead in his tracks, staring incredulously at his own sword stuck in his chest. He froze and flopped on the floor backwards, still wearing a surprised expression on his face.
Shocked silence hung over the room for a few seconds.
“You killed him!” the man in green t-shirt exclaimed in disbelief.
“I did not,” Wooyoung sighed annoyed and stooped down to pick his passport from the floor. “Just pull the blade out and he’ll be fine,” he collected his wallet and his earphones. But then he dropped the latter because the cord was cut into several pieces. What a waste, those had been his favourite earphones, too.
“You people are so weird,” he stood straight and glanced at Mr Cha, who looked rather unfazed by everything that happened here, save for his slightly tensed shoulders. “You asked for the money, I brought you the money. And then you don’t want it! Which one is it! It’s clean, alright?” he sighed. “Now, I think it’s possible to say that this debt is settled, okay? And if you have any problem with that,” he pulled out a card from his jeans pocket. “Call my local secretary, if you like,” he tossed the card with Dongjun’s phone number onto the desk. This Mr Cha can figure out his vampire family tree in private.
Convinced that no one would stop them from leaving, Wooyoung turned to his sister.
“Let’s go-” he hushed in the middle of the phrase as he saw his sister stand there with a few of his possessions in her hands. She must have been collecting them from the floor trying to help him, but now she stood with the receipt from the bank in her right hand, her eyes darting back and forth the sheet of paper, and her face was paler than pale.
Wooyoung cringed inwardly at the mishap and gave a disappointed sigh. He wished he had that flashy Men in Black device, but he guessed there was no turning back now. Carefully, he walked closer to her and took the receipt away. He folded it and pushed it into his hoodie’s pocket, looking her directly in the eye. She was searching for something in his face, but Wooyoung didn’t know what expression to make. Instead, he took the rest of his stuff from her, took her gently by her hand (he made sure his own hand wasn’t freezing again), and led her out of the messy room in silence.
The receipt had his name and his birth date printed out next to the request to issue the money. His real birth date, which Nichkhun didn’t bother to change when he had their new passports done.
They walked and walked, until they reached the docks, and their path headed north along the coastline. They slowly trudged along the fisherman trawlers, and then there were two movable bridges still buzzing with cars zooming back and forth in the middle of the night. It was only when they left the bridges behind that she let go of his hand and halted in her tracks. Small trawlers lightly swayed to the rhythm of breaking waves in the pier on their right.
Wooyoung turned back and looked at his sister. Her breath was calm, but heavy, and there was a distinct crease in between her eyebrows. Her eyes were focused on nothing in particular. It was like she was staring at something right in front of her, and yet she didn’t see anything. Both of them were ignoring the big pink elephant in the room.
Wooyoung saw her clench her jaw tight, and she took a step closer to him. Then she took another step. Her footfall was calm and steady as she closed the distance between them. Wooyoung’s face was shrouded in shadows, and he couldn’t make himself look at her.
She silently studied his face trying to understand what on earth she was seeing. She felt there were too many loose ends she couldn’t tie. Her left hand slowly reached out and her fingertips carefully traced the edge of his long fringe, eventually tucking a good chunk of black hair behind his right ear. Then her fingertips reached the corner of his right eye and Wooyoung felt his stomach sag down to his feet. Her forefinger lingered on a small scar right next to his eyelid, and she heaved a ragged sigh.
Wooyoung saw her take a step back and he finally mustered the last pieces of his courage to look her in the eye. She didn’t seem scared or spooked, but she clearly couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“What…” her chest heaved up and down. “What are you?” she breathed.
Wooyoung shuffled his feet, hiding his hands in his hoodie’s pockets. The hair she had tucked behind his ear got loose again and veiled half of his face from her, but he still kept his eyes on his sister.
“You know what I am,” he said and clenched his teeth as he could feel a scream coming up from his lungs. A scream he couldn’t let out because he felt he had no right to.
Her eyes darted back and forth across his face, and then up and down his entire stature, then back to his face, and the crease between her eyebrows deepened.
“You’re…” she uttered trying to pull herself together. “You’re…” she almost choked when tears rimmed her eyes. “You’re my brother.”
Wooyoung sighed giving up. His shoulders relaxed and he looked at her, having nothing else to say. Tears streamed down her face when she swallowed a wail and moved closer.
“My brother,” she said and hugged him tight, burying her face into his shoulder. Wooyoung held his breath out of old habit and he gingerly put his arms around her sobbing form. She no longer flinched even though he was freezing cold.
***
The evening twilight at the end of June was long, but the weather was so gloomy it seemed the sun was down long before it actually hid behind the horizon. It was still raining and all the windows at the bed and breakfast establishment were closed.
On a sunny day the guests could enjoy great views of the ocean, but now the rain was pelting relentlessly on the big windows from west and south, as firewood cracked and burned in a fireplace across from a big leather sofa in a cosy lounge.A few big and fat white candles burned slowly on a low and massive coffee table in front of the sofa. The TV was also on, but it was there mostly for some background noise because no one was paying attention to it.
Emma sat with her legs stretched across the length of the sofa (they didn’t even make a half of it), a glass of red wine in her hand. She blocked the glare of one of the candles with the glass, thus illuminating her drink with a warm glow. She eyed the liquid in the glass and shook her head, getting up from the sofa and putting the glass on the low table in front of it.
“No matter how I look at it…” she said turning around and going towards one of the big windows in the room. “Wine doesn’t go well with me.”
Jihun stood there watching the rain, his back straight and his hands in his pockets. They both had taken showers and changed into something comfortable after their unfortunate shot at sightseeing near the cliffs.
“Doesn’t suit your palate?” he asked when she stood near him.
“Induces headache instantly,” she scrunched her nose with disgust. “No like.”
He smiled to himself and looked around, turning his back on the window.
“It’s a nice place,” he said. “Is this the last stop?”
“Yep,” Emma followed him when Jihun moved to take a closer look at various details in the room: the lamps, the curtains, the paintings and photographs on the walls, and even random figurines on the mantelpiece. “I booked the entire place for a few days. It should be enough for the transition.”
“How will it go?” he asked feeling slightly concerned. He wasn’t sure what to expect, and he didn’t want more surprises because it was unnerving when you weren’t in control of your own body.
“We will go to sleep and then we will wake up.”
Jihun stopped admiring one small angel figurine and looked at here quizzically.
“The last time I slept for four days and woke up right after sunset, back to “normal,” I guess,” she drew imaginary quotes with her fingers and shrugged. “It might take around a week, I suppose. Could be today, could be tomorrow.”
“And then what?”
“And then I’ll ask Yena to come up with a way for Dongjun to lose this… ability. If anyone else finds out, his life will be in danger…”
“No, I mean…” Jihun pointed at her and then at himself.
“Oh,” she sounded surprised. “I haven’t thought about it yet,” Emma turned around on her heel and went back to sit on the sofa again.
Jihun chuckled quietly to himself shaking his head, and followed her. He took his glass of wine from the low table and sat down next to her, taking a small sip. She sat watching the flames lick the wood up and down in the fireplace, lost in reverie. He watched the candles burn for a while and then sighed.
“I was probably supposed to use this time to get to know you better, but I guess I… discovered more things about myself,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” she smirked reaching out for her glass. “Any last minute questions, now that you’re back on track again?” Emma leaned back into a comfortable backrest, absent-mindedly playing with her glass.
“Well, I…” he looked at her with a thoughtful expression. The warm glow from the fireplace and the candles played with shadows on his face. “I know I messed up by running away, and I know you said you could’ve thought your way around it, but… why did you hate me that much?”
Emma gave him a long pensive stare, actually wondering why she had wanted to crush his handsome face so bad every time she would remember him.
“I guess… I couldn’t forget you. I mean, I tried, but…” she focused on her glass again. “Each time I did, you would just come back from the depths of my mind, so I couldn’t…” she sighed and reclined her head on the backrest. “It was so frustrating, when you think of it… Ugh,” she growled closing her eyes. “All the chances I missed… Ok Taecyeon…” she whimpered.
Jihun blinked.
“What? Taecyeon?” he leaned closer. “What do you mean you couldn’t?” he frowned and then his eyes widened thrice their original size. “Wait… you mean since then… you’ve never…?”
“Who says I’ve never?!!” Emma suddenly sat straight and snapped at him indignantly. “Just…” she looked away mumbling to herself. “Not with a vampire, because… I can’t bite…”
“You’ve… never… swapped blood?” Jihun asked incredulously, his mouth gaping open.
“Well, you don’t really count, do you?” Emma blurted out stealing a glance at him. Seeing his shocked face, she scoffed. “And whose fault is that?!”
Jihun’s mouth moved as he tried to swallow his saliva only to find that his throat had gone dry. He absent-mindedly counted her years again staring at his wine, realizing that had it been other circumstances, he probably would have asked her to bleed into his glass so he could knock himself out with her centuries old pure blood. He downed the wine instead. She probably didn’t even realize how special she was.
“You know, I…” he put the glass down on the carpet behind the sofa. “I did say I was sorry for not staying, but…” he glanced at her. “At the same time, I… I’m glad I didn’t. Because I got to be with you like this.”
“Tch,” Emma scoffed rolling her eyes, sliding across the sofa closer to him. “Selfish bastard,” she swung her right fist to mock-punch him. “You can shove your apology up your ass and…”
She halted when a shadow of her fist fell on his face, her left hand gripping his sweatshirt. He didn’t even flinch, ready to play along, but there was something in the way she could feel the warmth of his skin seep through his clothes into her fingers that made her stop.
Emma lingered awkwardly her knee touching his thigh, her eyes darting back and forth across his face. It moulded into an illegible expression when she kept on hovering above him, her fist still clenched next to his head.
The look in his eyes tugged at something deep in her stomach, and suddenly she became acutely aware of her surroundings. The wood cracking in the fireplace, the TV set making random noises in the background, the rain pelting relentlessly on the windows. Pelting so hard, the sound of it took over her entire head and was beginning to suffocate her until Emma understood she was taking deep and rapid breaths. And they grew deeper with every second. Her grip on his shirt was so tight her knuckles went white, and she scanned his face again, allowing her younger-self in.
“Oh, what the hell,” she said and swooped in for a kiss.
It felt just like five hundred years ago. Only hotter. Wetter. Perhaps noisier. With no pink aura or inexplicable fog clouding your head.
She pulled back just to see if he was on the same page, but Jihun pulled her back in, deepening the kiss, his fingers already entangled in her hair. He didn’t know how long it was until he felt a heavy hammer weighing him down, and he didn’t understand what it was when Emma pushed him away and he found himself labouring for breath.
He opened his eyes to find her straddling him, her face flushed and her chest heaving up and down.
“This body,” she gasped. “This body is weird.”
He laughed at the unexpected realization.
“What?” she glared at him suspiciously.
“I…” he ran his fingers through his hair and it fell back on his forehead in a dishevelled fashion. “I’ve forgotten it takes your breath away.”
The look in her eyes changed momentarily. She bit inside her cheek and edged closer.
“What else does it do?” she asked.
Jihun studied her for a moment and then slowly reached out and cupped her cheek with his left palm. The heat from her skin tingled his, and it only grew hotter where he touched her.
“Do you feel it?” his eyebrows rose fractionally. She nodded slightly. “It’s all over. This sensation,” he said.
He could feel her heartbeat at his fingertips, and his own heart raced along at the thought. Jihun was beginning to tell himself he should not forget to breathe this time, when he felt nimble fingers at the bottom hem of his sweatshirt and the next second he was free of it.
It fell on the floor, and soon there was a small heap when Emma threw off her shirt and a tank-top, gradually pushing him down. She then slid forward painstakingly slow, rubbing against him as she went. The skin was scorching hot where it touched.
Emma stopped and lay on top of him, looking him directly in the eye.
“What do you want to do?” he asked urgently.
She whispered without hesitation:
“Everything.”
His heartbeat was so loud he couldn’t hear himself think.
-------------------
The weight of his backpack on his shoulders felt real. Wind blew past him and the tips of his thick hair brushed against his cheekbones. It felt ticklish, and for the first time over the course of twelve months Wooyoung figured this hair had to go. It just didn’t feel like him anymore.
He was floating effortlessly at the top of the Gwangan Bridge, avoiding the glaring lights, cars zooming back and forth tens of metres below him. It was a warm night, he had two thousand 50,000 won bills in his backpack and a phone clenched in his right hand. Waiting for a call has never been so frustrating. Especially when he knew he could trace those bastards down to their lair if he went to the tteokbokki diner to catch their scent again.
Wooyoung wondered if they allowed his sister to make a call home. He wondered if their parents knew she would be late. He wondered if they worried. And the more he thought about it, the worse his stomach ache got. The effects of hunger were beginning to spread across his head, the dull pressure slowly creeping from the back of his head towards his temples. It didn’t hurt, it felt more like an itch you wanted to scratch really hard, but Wooyoung realized he could fold that sensation and tuck it into the back of his mental drawer if he focused on his stomach ache. Which, obviously, translated into genuine anxiousness.
His phone rang and he answered immediately.
“Meet me at the Jagalchi station, exit five, in twenty minutes.”
Said a curt voice and hung up immediately. Wooyoung frowned and stared at his phone for a while, not seeing anything in particular. Dongjun had mentioned something about loan sharks from Jagalchi area being associated with the vampire community, but at the point he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to make sure his sister got home safe tonight.
Wooyoung pushed his phone into his hoodie’s pocket, looked around, and shot up immediately, going as high as he could, without losing the sight of the Jagalchi area, southeast of the Gwangan Bridge. The delirious part of him, which was getting more and more pronounced with the bouts of hunger, giddily wished he could make a superhero landing, but then he mentally slapped himself and glided slowly towards the rendezvous point, as he still had some time to kill.
The man in the green t-shirt, who had recognized him as his sister’s brother, met him at the subway exit exactly twenty minutes after the call. Wooyoung appreciated the punctuality and the fact the man didn’t try to initiate small talk. He just followed him silently through narrow streets full of seafood vendors, motels, diners, trendy shops, loud people, and flashy signs.
After a few streets they entered a block full of relatively new buildings, and Wooyoung was rather surprised to see the neighbourhood didn’t look shady at all. What’s more, when they entered one of the buildings, Wooyoung realized his image of loan sharks was falsely shaped by drama and movie stereotypes. Either that or these people were really upscale because this looked like operation headquarters for some businesses conducted in shiny offices, rather than dirty lending and laundering the money afterwards.
They took an elevator to the top floor, and the man led him to a long beige corridor, eventually opening the third door on the right. Wooyoung entered not even bothering to spare the man a glance.
Contrary to what he had imagined, instead of a thick and suffocating cigarette smoke, Wooyoung was greeted with a perfectly air-conditioned office that had a slight tinge of an air freshener. The room was big, with wide windows and black furniture. It had armchairs and office chairs, and a big desk with an impressive bookshelf behind it. It was also well-lit, and at first glance it looked almost like this VIP room at the bank had had just visited.
His sister sat in one of the black leather armchairs in front of the desk, with a mug of coffee in her hands, and Wooyoung, with reluctance, felt something akin to respect for these people. For not using paper cups, for starters.
The man in white shirt was nowhere to be seen, but the blue hoodie guy stood right behind his sister, and there was another man in the room, sitting behind the big desk. He had a name plate on the desk, and Wooyoung scanned it quickly. Cha Eunpyo. Director. It said.
Wooyoung walked closer giving the man a quick once-over. He was probably in his mid-forties, his black hair sleeked back and his face clean-shaven. There were several gold and silver rings on his fingers, and he wore a white shirt with a few buttons undone at the top, a dark grey jacket flung over his shoulders. Mr Cha had an air of a man who knew he was in charge, and there was a particular jittery edge to him that said he should not be provoked.
“The brother who came back from the dead,” the man said eyeing Wooyoung thoughtfully as he approached the desk.
Wooyoung didn’t feel compelled to comment on that. He just stood in front of the desk and took off his backpack. Holding it with one hand, he pulled the zipper and one by one pulled out blocks of 50,000 won, placing them on the desktop in a painstakingly precise manner. These were new and crispy notes, still sporting the orange Bank of Korea tape. When he was done stacking all the two thousand notes on the table, Wooyoung zipped up his backpack and plopped unceremoniously into an empty armchair next to his sister. She stared at him in astonishment.
“One hundred million,” Wooyoung said.
Mr Cha took one stack from the pile and gave it a closer look, although it seemed it was merely for the show because it was obvious the money was real, and he couldn’t deny it. Yet, he stood up, walked around the desk and leaned against it, standing right in front of Wooyoung.
“What do you expect me to do with all these notes and their successive serial numbers?” he asked, thoughtfully scanning Wooyoung’s face.
“Consider the debt settled?” Wooyoung suggested. He wasn’t sure why this man in front of him didn’t look happy about the pile of cash on his desk. Mr Cha smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile.
“Have you seen yourself in the mirror, kid?” he said. “Your face and money don’t go together, so you either work with the police, which you probably don’t cuz you look too dense for that, or you either did something that will lead the cops to me if I take that money. Those are fresh from the bank,” the man leaned back and narrowed his eyes. “Which vault did you raid?”
“I emptied my account.”
It was ridiculous. Wooyoung really didn’t do anything illegal because he simply met a manager at a VVIP room in the middle of the night, gave him his passport and his Platinum card, and the next thing he knew, he had the cash delivered to him. He even had the receipt to prove it, but he wished it wouldn’t come to it. It would’ve raised more questions than answers.
The boss laughed, obviously not buying it. He leaned closer, until he was on the same eye-level with Wooyoung.
“Your account?” there was a tinge of mock in his voice.
“Yes,” Wooyoung was still emulating the standard accent without a single trace of emotion on his face. “Your people have led me to assume you don’t take cards.”
Another bout of laughter and a backhand slap on his left cheek.
Wooyoung saw it coming, but he clenched his teeth and took it, still trying to play nice. One of the man’s rings wasn’t that nice though, when it collided with his skin and ploughed through it, drawing a deep red line. Wooyoung closed his eyes.
“Some nerve you have there,” he heard the man say. “But I’m in no mood for charades. Now spill it. Who gave you the money?”
Wooyoung opened his eyes and slowly looked up at Mr Cha, his left cheek tingling with a familiar sensation.
“A bank manager,” his voice was stone-cold and the last word was accompanied by a barely audible chesty growl. He heard a sharp intake of breath on his left and he knew why: the wound on his cheek was closing right before everyone’s eyes. He could tell his sister gripped her mug tighter, and the blue-hoodie guy took a step back.
Mr Cha, on the other hand, didn’t look too surprised. If anything, there was a look of recognition in his eyes.
“Call Hyunmin,” he said, and the man who had escorted Wooyoung to the loan shark den, quickly hurried outside to give a call.
Mr Cha leisurely, albeit with a trace of caution in his gait, walked back to his chair behind the desk and settled down on it. He gave Wooyoung a thoughtful once-over, now seeing him in a completely different light.
“No wonder they thought you dead,” he smirked. “Blood bag.”
Wooyoung suddenly wondered if this was where he was supposed to call Dongjun or not. Mr Cha was definitely familiar with the nocturnal kind, but he held himself with an easy confidence that suggested he must have had some sort of a back. In a sense, Wooyoung knew that whatever card this man would pull, he still held all the aces in his hand, but he just didn’t want any skirmish.
“Miss Jang, when did your brother supposedly die again?” Mr Cha turned to Wooyoung’s sister with seemingly the most mundane question on Earth. She flinched at “supposedly,” but collected herself well enough to answer with almost an impassive:
“Summer. Last year.”
The man mulled over that small piece of information, focusing on the money and then on Wooyoung. Then back on the money and on Wooyoung again.
“A blood bag and all that, it still doesn’t explain THIS,” he gestured at the stack of yellow banknotes. “What…? A one-year-old noob? How do they even let you out without a leash?”
“My clan is in favour of practicing interpersonal respect and trust,” Wooyoung offered.
This time the man in blue hoodie chuckled, and Mr Cha looked at Wooyoung, feeling highly amused.
“And which clan is it?” he asked. “I don’t remember seeing new additions to any clan in Busan.”
“Well, maybe it’s because I don’t live in Busan?” Wooyoung said exasperated.
What was their problem? Couldn’t they just take the money and be done with it? He couldn’t believe loan sharks were so thorough about where their money came from. Did they disregard him because he was young and new? He should talk about this to Taecyeon later. Must be some sort of discrimination.
A presence crawled up his spine, and Wooyoung looked right expecting the door to open. Sure enough, it flung open in a second and there came the same green t-shirt guy with a tall and lanky man, seemingly in his twenties. Wooyoung tensed involuntarily. That man certainly wasn’t in his twenties. He was a vampire and Wooyoung could only guess his age. He could only tell the man was older than him and younger than Taecyeon.
“Who’s this?” the vampire asked staring right at Wooyoung and sizing him up and down.
“Hyunmin-ah, that’s my line,” the slight trace of tension disappeared from Mr Cha’s shoulders and he comfortably leaned into his chair. “You probably have a breach,” he gestured at the money on his desk.
The vampire called Hyunmin quickly walked over to the desk, taking in the amount of banknotes on it. The sleeves of his checkered shirt were rolled up and Wooyoung could see long scars on his forearms. Scars he could have gotten only in his human years. Hyunmin inhaled quickly as if testing something and turned to Wooyoung sharply.
“How did a newborn puppy like you get this? Whose are you?” he asked sternly.
“I got it from my own bank account. And I’d like to believe I don’t belong to anyone,” Wooyoung wondered how much longer he had to go through this until he could take his sister out of here. This was turning into a farce. He sounded like a broken record.
“Does your master know about this?”
“As far as I know, she’s dead.”
The look in Hyunmin’s eyes changed. He became wary and guarded, and Wooyoung was surprised to realize this tall vampire saw an opponent in him.
“Are you on the loose?”
“I’m on vacation.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep the community hidden when rogues like you come crashing down?”
Wooyoung almost rolled his eyes. Without any second thought, he stood up and looked up at Hyunmin the tall vampire. Man, he was taller than Ok Taecyeon.
“Look, she had a debt,” he pointed at his sister. “I repaid the debt. What on earth is everybody’s problem?” his voice gained several decibels with each word. “I told you I didn’t steal it!” he growled through clenched teeth, and the next thing he knew, his face got rammed into the expensive mahogany desk, as the older vampire tackled him in inhuman speed.
“Calm down, puppy,” he said, one hand on Wooyoung’s head, the other hand gripping both of Wooyoung’s wrists behind his back.
Jang Wooyoung wondered how he got himself into this. He was probably taken by surprise because he definitely should’ve seen it coming. Wooyoung cursed himself for getting too agitated for nothing.
“Let him go,” Wooyoung’s insides froze as he heard his sister’s voice. “If you don’t trust his money, I’ll pay you back myself, just let him go. He’s got nothing to do with it.”
“I’m afraid he’s got everything to do with this,” Hyunmin sneered at her and pushed Wooyoung’s head into the desk harder. “Don’t you, puppy?”
That did it. Wooyoung closed his eyes and calmed himself down. The grip on his hands was strong, but he could tell that this Hyunmin guy was not in full control of his strength. He relied on sheer force rather than skill, and he also didn’t take Wooyoung seriously because of his age. Wooyoung, on the other hand, was serious.
Hyunmin didn’t know what hit him when, all of a sudden, he felt he was falling down backwards. He didn’t know how the unfamiliar newborn tripped him, but once he got back on his feet, he saw a black backpack flying at him, and this time, he pulled out his short blade and sliced the backpack in half, sending earphones, random sheets of papers, sneakers, and other things flying around the room.
Wooyoung watched how the contents and remains of his favourite backpack scattered across the floor. He took a mental note to collect his wallet and his passport once he was done with this.
He recognized the blade in Hyunmin’s hand as tanto, which was a short Japanese sword, and to top it all, it was silver. Keeping the vampire in his periphery, Wooyoung took a quick look around. Everyone was too close to them, so he didn’t even hesitate when he pushed the desk and Mr Cha in his swivel chair closer to the wall, and then shoved the armchair with his sister to the farthest corner in the room. She squeaked and spilt half of her coffee. The other two men backed away on their own.
Wooyoung wished he had his training dagger with him, but then again, this man couldn’t be worse than Chansung on his moody days.
“Insolent fool,” Hyunmin hissed. “I will report you to your master.”
“I told you my master is dead,” Wooyoung prepared to defend himself.
“Then prepare to join her,” and Hyunmin the vampire lunged at him with his silver tanto in hand, aiming for Wooyoung’s neck.
His body reacted faster than his mind. His left hand caught the vampire’s wrist blocking the blow, and his right pushed Hyunmin’s fist back so hard there was a nasty crack and the vampire cried out in pain. The sword fell down on the floor with a muted clang, and the vampire pulled back holding his broken wrist.
“Who the fuck are you?!” Hyunmin bellowed, reducing his wrist to let it heal.
Wooyoung bent down to get the short silver blade off the floor. This was getting a tad anti-climactic, but he really was in no mood for this.
“You know, if you stopped harassing newborns and picked on someone your age,” Wooyoung checked the blade, marvelling at how precise it was. “Maybe you could learn a few tricks, too.”
The obvious lack of agitation in Wooyoung’s voice ticked the older vampire off and he plunged at him again without any second thought. But Wooyoung just waited for him to take three steps forward, until the bulls-eye was in a perfect position, and then he flung the blade as fast as he could, trying to rival Lee Junho the Flash in his mind.
The blade reached its target in a matter of nanoseconds, and Hyunmin stopped dead in his tracks, staring incredulously at his own sword stuck in his chest. He froze and flopped on the floor backwards, still wearing a surprised expression on his face.
Shocked silence hung over the room for a few seconds.
“You killed him!” the man in green t-shirt exclaimed in disbelief.
“I did not,” Wooyoung sighed annoyed and stooped down to pick his passport from the floor. “Just pull the blade out and he’ll be fine,” he collected his wallet and his earphones. But then he dropped the latter because the cord was cut into several pieces. What a waste, those had been his favourite earphones, too.
“You people are so weird,” he stood straight and glanced at Mr Cha, who looked rather unfazed by everything that happened here, save for his slightly tensed shoulders. “You asked for the money, I brought you the money. And then you don’t want it! Which one is it! It’s clean, alright?” he sighed. “Now, I think it’s possible to say that this debt is settled, okay? And if you have any problem with that,” he pulled out a card from his jeans pocket. “Call my local secretary, if you like,” he tossed the card with Dongjun’s phone number onto the desk. This Mr Cha can figure out his vampire family tree in private.
Convinced that no one would stop them from leaving, Wooyoung turned to his sister.
“Let’s go-” he hushed in the middle of the phrase as he saw his sister stand there with a few of his possessions in her hands. She must have been collecting them from the floor trying to help him, but now she stood with the receipt from the bank in her right hand, her eyes darting back and forth the sheet of paper, and her face was paler than pale.
Wooyoung cringed inwardly at the mishap and gave a disappointed sigh. He wished he had that flashy Men in Black device, but he guessed there was no turning back now. Carefully, he walked closer to her and took the receipt away. He folded it and pushed it into his hoodie’s pocket, looking her directly in the eye. She was searching for something in his face, but Wooyoung didn’t know what expression to make. Instead, he took the rest of his stuff from her, took her gently by her hand (he made sure his own hand wasn’t freezing again), and led her out of the messy room in silence.
The receipt had his name and his birth date printed out next to the request to issue the money. His real birth date, which Nichkhun didn’t bother to change when he had their new passports done.
They walked and walked, until they reached the docks, and their path headed north along the coastline. They slowly trudged along the fisherman trawlers, and then there were two movable bridges still buzzing with cars zooming back and forth in the middle of the night. It was only when they left the bridges behind that she let go of his hand and halted in her tracks. Small trawlers lightly swayed to the rhythm of breaking waves in the pier on their right.
Wooyoung turned back and looked at his sister. Her breath was calm, but heavy, and there was a distinct crease in between her eyebrows. Her eyes were focused on nothing in particular. It was like she was staring at something right in front of her, and yet she didn’t see anything. Both of them were ignoring the big pink elephant in the room.
Wooyoung saw her clench her jaw tight, and she took a step closer to him. Then she took another step. Her footfall was calm and steady as she closed the distance between them. Wooyoung’s face was shrouded in shadows, and he couldn’t make himself look at her.
She silently studied his face trying to understand what on earth she was seeing. She felt there were too many loose ends she couldn’t tie. Her left hand slowly reached out and her fingertips carefully traced the edge of his long fringe, eventually tucking a good chunk of black hair behind his right ear. Then her fingertips reached the corner of his right eye and Wooyoung felt his stomach sag down to his feet. Her forefinger lingered on a small scar right next to his eyelid, and she heaved a ragged sigh.
Wooyoung saw her take a step back and he finally mustered the last pieces of his courage to look her in the eye. She didn’t seem scared or spooked, but she clearly couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“What…” her chest heaved up and down. “What are you?” she breathed.
Wooyoung shuffled his feet, hiding his hands in his hoodie’s pockets. The hair she had tucked behind his ear got loose again and veiled half of his face from her, but he still kept his eyes on his sister.
“You know what I am,” he said and clenched his teeth as he could feel a scream coming up from his lungs. A scream he couldn’t let out because he felt he had no right to.
Her eyes darted back and forth across his face, and then up and down his entire stature, then back to his face, and the crease between her eyebrows deepened.
“You’re…” she uttered trying to pull herself together. “You’re…” she almost choked when tears rimmed her eyes. “You’re my brother.”
Wooyoung sighed giving up. His shoulders relaxed and he looked at her, having nothing else to say. Tears streamed down her face when she swallowed a wail and moved closer.
“My brother,” she said and hugged him tight, burying her face into his shoulder. Wooyoung held his breath out of old habit and he gingerly put his arms around her sobbing form. She no longer flinched even though he was freezing cold.
***
The evening twilight at the end of June was long, but the weather was so gloomy it seemed the sun was down long before it actually hid behind the horizon. It was still raining and all the windows at the bed and breakfast establishment were closed.
On a sunny day the guests could enjoy great views of the ocean, but now the rain was pelting relentlessly on the big windows from west and south, as firewood cracked and burned in a fireplace across from a big leather sofa in a cosy lounge.A few big and fat white candles burned slowly on a low and massive coffee table in front of the sofa. The TV was also on, but it was there mostly for some background noise because no one was paying attention to it.
Emma sat with her legs stretched across the length of the sofa (they didn’t even make a half of it), a glass of red wine in her hand. She blocked the glare of one of the candles with the glass, thus illuminating her drink with a warm glow. She eyed the liquid in the glass and shook her head, getting up from the sofa and putting the glass on the low table in front of it.
“No matter how I look at it…” she said turning around and going towards one of the big windows in the room. “Wine doesn’t go well with me.”
Jihun stood there watching the rain, his back straight and his hands in his pockets. They both had taken showers and changed into something comfortable after their unfortunate shot at sightseeing near the cliffs.
“Doesn’t suit your palate?” he asked when she stood near him.
“Induces headache instantly,” she scrunched her nose with disgust. “No like.”
He smiled to himself and looked around, turning his back on the window.
“It’s a nice place,” he said. “Is this the last stop?”
“Yep,” Emma followed him when Jihun moved to take a closer look at various details in the room: the lamps, the curtains, the paintings and photographs on the walls, and even random figurines on the mantelpiece. “I booked the entire place for a few days. It should be enough for the transition.”
“How will it go?” he asked feeling slightly concerned. He wasn’t sure what to expect, and he didn’t want more surprises because it was unnerving when you weren’t in control of your own body.
“We will go to sleep and then we will wake up.”
Jihun stopped admiring one small angel figurine and looked at here quizzically.
“The last time I slept for four days and woke up right after sunset, back to “normal,” I guess,” she drew imaginary quotes with her fingers and shrugged. “It might take around a week, I suppose. Could be today, could be tomorrow.”
“And then what?”
“And then I’ll ask Yena to come up with a way for Dongjun to lose this… ability. If anyone else finds out, his life will be in danger…”
“No, I mean…” Jihun pointed at her and then at himself.
“Oh,” she sounded surprised. “I haven’t thought about it yet,” Emma turned around on her heel and went back to sit on the sofa again.
Jihun chuckled quietly to himself shaking his head, and followed her. He took his glass of wine from the low table and sat down next to her, taking a small sip. She sat watching the flames lick the wood up and down in the fireplace, lost in reverie. He watched the candles burn for a while and then sighed.
“I was probably supposed to use this time to get to know you better, but I guess I… discovered more things about myself,” he said.
“You’re welcome,” she smirked reaching out for her glass. “Any last minute questions, now that you’re back on track again?” Emma leaned back into a comfortable backrest, absent-mindedly playing with her glass.
“Well, I…” he looked at her with a thoughtful expression. The warm glow from the fireplace and the candles played with shadows on his face. “I know I messed up by running away, and I know you said you could’ve thought your way around it, but… why did you hate me that much?”
Emma gave him a long pensive stare, actually wondering why she had wanted to crush his handsome face so bad every time she would remember him.
“I guess… I couldn’t forget you. I mean, I tried, but…” she focused on her glass again. “Each time I did, you would just come back from the depths of my mind, so I couldn’t…” she sighed and reclined her head on the backrest. “It was so frustrating, when you think of it… Ugh,” she growled closing her eyes. “All the chances I missed… Ok Taecyeon…” she whimpered.
Jihun blinked.
“What? Taecyeon?” he leaned closer. “What do you mean you couldn’t?” he frowned and then his eyes widened thrice their original size. “Wait… you mean since then… you’ve never…?”
“Who says I’ve never?!!” Emma suddenly sat straight and snapped at him indignantly. “Just…” she looked away mumbling to herself. “Not with a vampire, because… I can’t bite…”
“You’ve… never… swapped blood?” Jihun asked incredulously, his mouth gaping open.
“Well, you don’t really count, do you?” Emma blurted out stealing a glance at him. Seeing his shocked face, she scoffed. “And whose fault is that?!”
Jihun’s mouth moved as he tried to swallow his saliva only to find that his throat had gone dry. He absent-mindedly counted her years again staring at his wine, realizing that had it been other circumstances, he probably would have asked her to bleed into his glass so he could knock himself out with her centuries old pure blood. He downed the wine instead. She probably didn’t even realize how special she was.
“You know, I…” he put the glass down on the carpet behind the sofa. “I did say I was sorry for not staying, but…” he glanced at her. “At the same time, I… I’m glad I didn’t. Because I got to be with you like this.”
“Tch,” Emma scoffed rolling her eyes, sliding across the sofa closer to him. “Selfish bastard,” she swung her right fist to mock-punch him. “You can shove your apology up your ass and…”
She halted when a shadow of her fist fell on his face, her left hand gripping his sweatshirt. He didn’t even flinch, ready to play along, but there was something in the way she could feel the warmth of his skin seep through his clothes into her fingers that made her stop.
Emma lingered awkwardly her knee touching his thigh, her eyes darting back and forth across his face. It moulded into an illegible expression when she kept on hovering above him, her fist still clenched next to his head.
The look in his eyes tugged at something deep in her stomach, and suddenly she became acutely aware of her surroundings. The wood cracking in the fireplace, the TV set making random noises in the background, the rain pelting relentlessly on the windows. Pelting so hard, the sound of it took over her entire head and was beginning to suffocate her until Emma understood she was taking deep and rapid breaths. And they grew deeper with every second. Her grip on his shirt was so tight her knuckles went white, and she scanned his face again, allowing her younger-self in.
“Oh, what the hell,” she said and swooped in for a kiss.
It felt just like five hundred years ago. Only hotter. Wetter. Perhaps noisier. With no pink aura or inexplicable fog clouding your head.
She pulled back just to see if he was on the same page, but Jihun pulled her back in, deepening the kiss, his fingers already entangled in her hair. He didn’t know how long it was until he felt a heavy hammer weighing him down, and he didn’t understand what it was when Emma pushed him away and he found himself labouring for breath.
He opened his eyes to find her straddling him, her face flushed and her chest heaving up and down.
“This body,” she gasped. “This body is weird.”
He laughed at the unexpected realization.
“What?” she glared at him suspiciously.
“I…” he ran his fingers through his hair and it fell back on his forehead in a dishevelled fashion. “I’ve forgotten it takes your breath away.”
The look in her eyes changed momentarily. She bit inside her cheek and edged closer.
“What else does it do?” she asked.
Jihun studied her for a moment and then slowly reached out and cupped her cheek with his left palm. The heat from her skin tingled his, and it only grew hotter where he touched her.
“Do you feel it?” his eyebrows rose fractionally. She nodded slightly. “It’s all over. This sensation,” he said.
He could feel her heartbeat at his fingertips, and his own heart raced along at the thought. Jihun was beginning to tell himself he should not forget to breathe this time, when he felt nimble fingers at the bottom hem of his sweatshirt and the next second he was free of it.
It fell on the floor, and soon there was a small heap when Emma threw off her shirt and a tank-top, gradually pushing him down. She then slid forward painstakingly slow, rubbing against him as she went. The skin was scorching hot where it touched.
Emma stopped and lay on top of him, looking him directly in the eye.
“What do you want to do?” he asked urgently.
She whispered without hesitation:
“Everything.”
His heartbeat was so loud he couldn’t hear himself think.
-------------------