In her waking moments, Seolhyun never thought Hyejeong capable of this. To be very fair, neither had Hyejeong.

Hyejeong's teeth sink into Seolhyun's neck. The sinew melts away and gives way to fresh blood. Hyejeong places a hand beneath Seolhyun's thigh and lifts her, pushing her up onto the countertop. There is a moment of force and a loud sound. It's only Hyejeong's palm slamming the tiles behind her victim, though, so Jimin breathes a sigh of relief.

Seolhyun squirms minimally. She doesn't say anything and doesn't move an inch. She rests like a willing fly in the grasp of a predator, stilled in the vice-like grip.

Eyes shut, Hyejeong can't think of much else but blood running hot on her tongue. Good, so good. She doesn't notice Jimin move towards Seolhyun and keep a thumb on her inner wrist. A healthy rate. Maybe even faster than is healthy. Excited, Jimin realises.

Choa can only watch, stupefied. She strides quickly towards Seolhyun's open room door and shuts it soundlessly. Did her initial entanglement with Jimin look this shocking, this frightening? Jimin stiffens nearby, as if thinking the same thing. Choa squeezes Jimin's hand in hers affirmatively, hoping to allay any fears about her own security. Jimin refuses to respond.

In her enthusiasm, Hyejeong opens more than one wound. Even her front incisors sink into the flesh of the shoulder blade to create a crescent-shaped reservoir in the meat. Her tongue dips into the indent in front of it as the blood pools. It's salty and metallic, and also thick. It gets in Hyejeong's teeth and coats her inner cheeks so the taste doesn't go away. She doesn't want it to go away as of yet, so it isn't a problem so far.

“Hyejeong.”

There isn't a response. If one could be enamoured with the taste of fresh blood, Hyejeong was reverent and quickly addicted.

“Hyejeong, get off her.”

Hyejeong, stuck in her trance, doesn't budge. Jimin slips her hand between the girls, index and third fingers digging into Hyejeong's abdomen. She forces the curl-up position and Hyejeong is almost torn away. Seolhyun squeals from the touch of dry air on her open wounds. Hyejeong's eyes are still wild, and the young vampire girl enters the fray again, but Seolhyun, exhausted and aching in the shoulder and neck, guides her by the jaw towards .

“Seolhyun, you shouldn't-”

Kissing her with force and sheer might in ignoring the pain, Seolhyun offers up a bottom lip for the taking. In gratitude a single canine breaks the thin film of resistance. At this point Seolhyun whimpers and Hyejeong and kisses for a minute. When she pulls away her eyes are dark and she notices Seolhyun's white and gaunt complexion. What have I done?

“Don't worry,” Seolhyun murmurs. “I'm fine.”

But she isn't, because her grip on Hyejeong's shoulders is weakening every second now, until Hyejeong can feel her slipping. She doesn't have time to reflect on the morbidity of Seolhyun's mangled shoulder. It looks like a wild animal got to it and then left, startled by a hunter's headlights on the Sahara. Seolhyun's eyes are on her only, and they seem to make every effort to be reassuring before they slip shut into a shock-induced sleep.

“Come here,” Choa scurries forward and takes Seolhyun by the waist before she topples over, laying her down on the sofa to begin facilitating the process of recuperation.

“Wait, no-”

“It's okay,” Jimin says instinctively, placing an arm on Hyejeong's stomach; it's churning, rising, and falling. “Leave her with Choa. I thought it would happen sooner or later.”

Sooner or later? Kill her, she means?

“Is she going to be okay?” Hyejeong looks on at Choa's application of oils and bandages, horrified.

Jimin shrugs recklessly. “I think so. Perhaps you're just a messy eater. Don't worry, though; you kept to good time. Usually I keep feeding sessions to fifteen minutes or spread the bites out sporadically. She should be fine; I just don't know if the stylists are going to let her wear any strapless dresses any time soon.”

“She has a press conference in two days!” Hyejeong cries, trembling from the adrenaline of fresh human blood. “And all I can think about is her blood, damn it. This is bad timing.”

Wordlessly, Jimin takes Hyejeong by the arm and steers her into the shared bathroom. It's a depressing shade of blue and quite cramped, but Jimin fits herself between the potted flowers and Hyejeong paces about the bathing area. They look at each other seriously for the first time this evening, each feeling a spicy anger over the rushed sequence of unfortunate events of the day.

“Good timing.” Jimin says.

“What?”

“Good timing,” Jimin repeats. “The venom might have permeated her skin in the hour we took to return home. A good thing. Might have been better if you took it directly from the arm, though. The veins are better there and less risk of splitting the jugular.”

Hyejeong observes Jimin slowly as she speaks. “You know more than you let on.”

Jimin is quiet for a minute. “Just the essentials, but that's how it has to be. I'm older than you.”

There is a yelp outside. It is hushed. Hyejeong folds her arms and her feet itch behind the door to the living room outside. She can still feel Seolhyun's blood flooding as it first descended and the accompanying lovely warmth that came over her in the first instance. Hyejeong knows why vampires kill now. She doesn't like it, because it's like admitting to a jury that she understands why murderers do what they do, why serial killers should be empathised with.

“Different from hares, hmm?” Jimin comments warily. "I remember my first as well. I was a trainee with FNC, and I didn't have anyone to coax me through my maturation process, so I just killed an old man with a bun-steamer by the roadside. I sto