Chapter V

It was so strange. Meeting for the second time, after just one day, and have the feeling that such a little time passed as an eternity. 
And Jongin knew it well. Yet that evening his violinist appeared at his eyes brighter than any full moon he had ever got to admire during all the years.

Taemin had just completed another exceptional performance, and as always he seemed to be so unaware, so uninterested in the opinions of others, in the opinion of all. Yet, once collected the money and put the violin in its case, he did nothing more than approaching the one who apparently would become his greatest supporter. He stopped a few feet away from him and looked at him straight in the eye, without any embarrassment, while casually preventing the wide-neck sweater slipping along his lean shoulder.

Jongin looked at him in the same way an art critic might admire the most rousing work of his life. And indeed it was all about that. That young, eccentric violinist made him feel so overwhelmed.
"You really came, sir." Taemin ran his eyes along the vertical line of shiny buttons on the other's long and dark coat, as if trying to see through it.
"I would never miss it." Jongin answered and the blond-haired boy seemed to be so pleasantly surprised that he could not help but feeling satisfied and smiled at him, approaching him with a single step.
"Thanks, I appreciate it." Taemin bowed and Jongin automatically did the same. 

And there was the silence. That moment when words are not necessary, and all that could be said is written down on a sheet, crumpled up and thrown away. Taemin was sure to feel his chest burning, Jongin could barely refrain from touching him.
Just one day. They both kept telling themselves. Taemin was intrigued, Jongin was confused. Was such a thing really possible? Talking with the eyes, and silently confessing to each other the desire to meet again.

"It's the first time I want to play for somebody." Taemin's eyes became absent and his lips parted.
"It's the first time I want to touch someone without killing him." Jongin frowned.

Around them the usual square was getting more and more crowded because of night clubs that were about to open and then, in a moment of a renewed clarity, Jongin suggested with a nod to get closer to the road, so as to avoid the crowds.
".You were great, as always." 'As always.' Jongin suddenly wanted to slap himself. He would have to pay much more attention to his words from that moment on. He did not want Taemin to find out, he did not want him to run away.

But Taemin didn't seem to have noticed that detail, he would rather be more interested in counting the specks of dust on the tip of his shoes. Jongin saw him depart a lock of hair behind his ear.
"You are exaggerating, sir. They are just cheap compositions, born by chance and on time. A jumble of sounds." He seemed amused as he said it, but the vampire was sure he noticed the tips of his ears getting red.
"You call it a jumble of sounds, I call it unvarnished art." Jongin lowered himself with his back to seek his gaze. Taemin smiled, raising his eyebrows.
"Unvarnished? Really?" He escaped a laugh and the other was suddenly dumbfounded.
But his laugh sounded so nice, and his smile was so cute.
Jongin shook his head and immediately pulled back his straight black hair. 

"So." He had so many things to ask him, but how could he do that without being too suspicious? "What do you do, besides playing the violin? I mean, do you study? Do you have a job?" He didn't know why, but he had the feeling that things like those were almost stupid to ask Taemin. That guy had a particular aura around him, and seemed to enjoy any kind of question he was asked. Yet his intention was not to make fun of his interlocutor, his was just a spontaneous reaction to the reality that he, and only he knew.
And he did it again. He brought those slender fingers to his lips and badly concealed a laugh. Ah, he was torturing Jongin so much and he didn't even know
"Nothing like that, sir. The money you see me earning every night by playing the violin, are what I live with." Everything was absurd, and it was the only thing that Jongin could think about at that moment.

Why would such a young man reduce himself to a simple street performer? Why not attending college or getting a job? Certainly the money he earned with his performances was barely enough to survive, so why shrink so much? At least now Jongin understood why he was so skinny. The vampire suddenly appeared rigid, entirely disarmed in front of such boldness contrasting with the harmless and docile aspect that Taemin had.
He wanted to understand so many things. His chest and head seemed to explode from the desire to ask for more.

He was just repeating to himself that he would have been more convenient to be careful with questions, when his senses perceived an imminent danger, a very close one. Something extremely fast, and now suddenly noisy.

It was a moment, the time to beat an eyelid. A motorcycle had just passed at high speed exactly along the roadside where the two were standing just before. 
Jongin's hand was firmly tightened around Taemin's and a jolt suddenly went through his body. What was that feeling? A few images started following each other so fast before his eyes, together with the voices of several people.

"Mr. Taemin, we're sorry."

Jongin recognised the language was french.

"We couldn't do anything."

There were pieces of wood scattered on the floor, some domestics were collecting them. It was a violin. A destroyed violin? Why? What happened? Who did it?

"It does not end here, father."

"I hate you."

"I'll ruin you. I'