Hello; this is DeanaeDrakos.  I literally stayed up all night, making this my first official all-nighter.  How sad is that...  But anyways, this is in Jungkook's POV, and he lives in a world where humans and vampires are slowly beginning to work toward diplomatic means of co-existence.  Not gonna lie, I wrote this after reading a fic called We All Are Our Own Demons, and I got in the vampire-kissy mood.  Please read it, the author didn't put me up to this, it was just that good.  Honestly.  I finished it in one day.  Hell yah, it really was that fantastic...  Anyways, continue on!   :D

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Teeth.

Teeth.  Teeth.  Teeth.

All I saw were teeth.  All I thought of were teeth.  All I felt were teeth.  Or rather, all I imagined I felt were teeth; they weren’t close enough yet.  Not near enough for their acute edges to do a single thing.

That was going to change, though, I knew.  I’d known the exact, breath-taking moment I saw her gloriously decked out in nothing but a simple, blood-red dress.  For her to think she could come over wearing something that hugged her skin so closely and think that the mere sight of it wouldn’t make me wish to rival it in such a regard, was madness.

Oxygen-inhibiting madness.

And yet I felt like I shouldn’t even dare lay eyes on her, let alone lay hands on her, lips on her.  Teeth on her.  Not that that would be my job; she was the head of that department, seeing as though she had an incredibly much more formidable set.

Fangs.  Maybe I should’ve been using the word fangs, seeing as though that was what she had at her disposal, in her arsenal, in .  Fangs.  Razor-sharp, slick, smooth, thin yet strong fangs.  It was to be expected, though, and a very real component of our relationship.  Any type of relationship with a vampire was bound to include their existence in whatever deal made.  In a new, evolving, bustling world where humans and vampires were just learning to cooperate with each other, there were always guidelines.

“If you wanna get hired, prepare yourself never to show those teeth of yours at work.”

“Being a teacher means being able to connect with students, so keep them hidden at all times.  No offense intended.  We just don’t wanna scare the children.”

“As your friend, I don’t mind seeing them, but just not around my girlfriend; she doesn’t like vamps.”

“Sorry.”

“For business purposes only.”

“Please no biting while on the clock.”

“Keep your mouth shut.”

“I don’t care what you do.”

“Could you bite me?”

“They scare me a little.”

“Please.”

When she asked me to dinner, such rules were not set, those exemptions and excluding factors were never decided upon.  It just didn’t come up, and I was scared to bring them to her attention.  Mostly scared of her getting the wrong idea, but partly, guiltily, because she scared me.  Just a tad.  Just a smidge.

Especially when she’d send me a blinding smile and before I could send one back I had to swallow the fear that had risen in my throat.  The instinctual flashes of terror that seized me on occasion were like that; random and at times when I wouldn’t have thought about it if she’d been human.  Not that I wanted her human.

Vampires; they were something else.  Something on a completely other level that dragged you there with them if they wanted to.  Utterly and entirely in control of how much they wanted you to experience of them, their culture, and their personal lives.  If they had a secret they didn’t want you to know, you didn’t know it.

You didn’t even know it existed, let alone its contents.

Genevieve was like that, I thought, but I could be wrong.  She could have a million secrets, or she could have none; I didn’t know, and that was the point.  My friends told me it was better that way, but I wasn’t really sure.  Maybe it was because they’d only hooked up with vampires, ed them and gotten on with their lives.  Jenna seemed like she cared a little more than that, like she wanted something bigger than that.

At least, that was what I’d guessed, seeing as how I hadn’t gotten laid yet, and we’d been dating for three-and-a-half months.  It was kind of a let down from all the wild tales I’d heard of being in bed with one of the undead.

Her character had no buffer for my ever growing desire either, to add to her attention-grabbing appearance, and seemed to only spur me on in the worst of times and push me away simultaneously.  There was no air of childishness surrounding her, no aura of youth to remind me she was younger.  Turned at the age of nineteen, she was in that way five years younger than me, but in true years she was much older.

Still just a fledgling of a vampire, the early 1800s had been her birth century, topping her off at a staggering 183.  In that way, she was older and wiser and knew much more about just about everything, especially when it came to appearing older.  Walking around in business clothes most of the time, she held a steady job and had long since got every degree she ever could’ve wanted in whatever area of expertise had tickled her fancy at whatever moment in her history.

With a curving body that she’d be not so unluckily stuck with for eternity, she was certainly a looker.  Unfortunately for most, she didn’t happen to look around much herself, seemingly finding no interest in the world of humans expect in what either included or affected her.  So many languages were under her belt, she could simply throw a dart at a map and decide to move to wherever it’d landed.

That, at least, was how she decided to go to Korea.  Originally from England, her foreign face and unusually large bosom and backside caught attention.  Luckily for me, not any reciprocated attention.  She was sophisticated and I considered her mine, though knew that I was more hers.  Her skin was cold and there was no heartbeat to hear or feel and since she never breathed, she was often still as the dead.

Which, ironically, she was.

Dead, while at the same time undying.  Immortal.  Forever.  Which meant that we couldn’t be forever, unless I let her turn me, which may’ve been the very reason she singled me out from all other onlookers.  My youthful, entranced gaze differed from the ravenous stares of those looking for a mattress-creaking night, a couple window-shaking hours.  I was looking because she was beautiful and I could tell she was one of them and I couldn’t help but wonder what one kiss would feel like.  Not what a one-night stand could offer, but one, measly, chaste, freezing kiss.

And because they could read intentions like a children’s book, Genevieve would intentionally sit close to me on the bus we both took in the morning; I to my downtown part-time job and she to her high-end workplace.  She’d intentionally let an older passenger take her seat if it meant standing next to me.  She’d intentionally brush her hands past my arms as she got off.

Maybe it was my blossoming maturity and tainted-with-childhood adulthood that made her want to rip the adolescence from my and shove something much more lasting into its place.  But maybe the thought of turning me had never crossed her thoughts, and maybe I was just exaggerating the situation.  I’d never know if she didn’t want me to.

She knew what she was doing, always, even if I didn’t, and even as she knocked on my door, I knew she already knew what my reaction would be to her apparel.  Her tantalizing outfit.  We were only going to watch a movie at my place; what was the point of dressing up to such an extent if not to elicit a reaction from me?  Was there any point to anything after living for nearly two centuries?  Could she do whatever she wanted at whatever time and be expected to explain herself?  After experiencing so much more and dealing with so much more just for being what she was?

Of course not.  But that did not mean I planned on doing nothing in the wake of her latest fashion decision.  I didn’t know what it was that I’d do, or when, or why…  Wait, I knew that last one.  Because Jenna was downright stunning in a classic, old-time way.  She radiated cultivation and fullness, and in a primitive shadow of my mind I wanted to fill her, run my mouth up and down her body even it meant getting frostbite on every inch of exposed skin.  Which would never happen anyways; which gave me even more reason to it.

Even the way she talked made me think that if I ever scrounged the courage to make a move, I couldn’t call it .  It’d be love-making.

She appreciated old-time movies and things and books and I knew she’d appreciate my old-time terminology.  Romantic was a word to describe her; candles were a way to describe her dream date; mature was a word to describe the feeling that her icy lips left on my cheek.

Nice was the word to generally describe our relationship.  So was stable, because she was so consistent that sometimes I picked her up early or showed up late or asked her to drive me, just to mix things up a little.  But as I opened the door and saw the dangling, hoop earrings that I’d given her just weeks before, I knew I wanted to shake things up a bit more than a delayed date.  I wanted to shake her up.  I wanted to make her heart beat faster and her pulse sky-rocket and-

I knew I couldn’t do any of those things, but deep down it was a dark desire of mine to try anyways.  To turn on whatever of her I could and make her want to do the same for me.  Only difference was that she could literally turn on every part of me, and she knew it.  I didn’t know how into anything she could get, and could only go on what my friends had said.  But they messed around with s and and vamps that charged them unseemly amounts for a mere .

Jenna wasn’t them.

“I brought with me a collection of films we might agree upon,” she began, inviting herself in.  That was just another thing that scared me into crawling back to my childish self, the one that wouldn’t dare touch a noona in such intimate ways as what passed through my imagination.  What triggered it was the not-so subtle dominance she exerted over all she saw, all she owned.

Which happened to include me.

“Yah, of course,” I consented, leaning down to kiss her cheek; at least height was something I had over her.  “Anything.”

“It’s nice to see you,” she said, and smirked up.  Scratch what was said just moments ago; height meant nothing.  Absolutely nothing but that I had a farther way to move in order to bow, in order to kneel in front of her, which if she wanted me to do, I would’ve.

“Same here.”  Her toothy grin made my stomach flip and I once again remembered why no moves had ever been made by me in the past.  Those teeth, fangs, were smiling up and taunting me.  They were daring me to play with them, to dare them back.  And I couldn’t.  Every instinct in my body repelled me from them, forced me into a stupid fear that I always had to push away into the dark recesses of my head before their machinations became anything much.

She leaned up and pressed cold lips to my warm ones, shocking me every time with how lifeless they could be.  I must’ve stiffened without meaning to, because she pulled away, frowning, eyes narrowing even while she turned away to continue her way into my family room.

I cursed and followed, feeling bad and wanting to somehow make up for it, but she was already sliding a movie into the VCR slot.  “I hope you don’t have much opposition in regard of my picking the film?”

“No, of course not, Jenna.”  It was always ‘of course.’

“Splendid, because I think we will both find it equally enrapturing.”

“I hope so,” I responded, finding her side chilly but willingly pliable under the pressure of my own, bending to fit against me, her torso shifting to lean into mine.  I propped my feet up as the screen flickered to life, casting a weird, dim glow against our skin.  In order to erase whatever damage had been done earlier, I grabbed her hand forcefully and laced our fingers together.

When she let me, nuzzled closer, and faked a sigh of contentment for my benefit, I knew it’d been let go of.

What was meant to be an uninterrupted movie night soon turned into personal game of self will-power.  Every time an embrace occurred on screen, I looked down and wondered how much closer I could hold her without pushing it too far.  Every time a kiss sprawled out in front of us, the thought of capturing her lips ensued.  Every heated scene triggered a swallow and barely noticeable shake of my head, to rid myself of such thoughts.

Now was not the time; she was enjoying the movie, evident by her ever present grin and happy chuckles.  Now was not the time to ruin that for her.  Get yourself together, Jungkook.  Cut the crap and grow up.

“Are you alright?” she asked, and I realized I hadn’t been paying attention for a solid ten minutes or so, caught up in my head too deeply.  My hand had gone limp and wasn’t rubbing circles into her palm; my chest was rising faster as I thought farther and farther into the supposed fantasy of sleeping with a vampire.

“Sorry, babe; I’m fine.  Just a little distracted.”

“Ah,” she concurred, humming a little hum of understanding and turning to face me a bit more.  I tried to keep in mind that vampires could sense an inkling your intentions if they wanted to, and we had never set boundaries for such supernatural abilities, so everything was on the table.  I tried to calm the rising want in my stomach to kiss her, knowing she had only look a little closer into my heart to see it.

But it was already difficult, seeing as how close she was and how nice she looked in that dress and just how much closer she was leaning forward toward me.  I gulped and almost leaned back, but she made sure to show even a glimpse of teeth, lest it be a deterrence.  Not that her fangs were out at the moment; that was a common misconception.  They only elongated, grew longer when she wanted them to, and when she didn’t want them to, they were just as sharp but shorter than the rest of her teeth.

I felt roped into her, forced to hold still as she pressed a kiss to my lips, but I knew it was only myself, the primal instinct to be scared fighting with the even deeper, instinctual desire to respond in a similar manner as she.  Her fingers dug into my shirt and tugged me closer, my mouth finally acting on its own accord and moving to meet hers with a like fervor.

Genevieve was always so quiet that it made all the more difference to me when I managed to get a reaction out of her.  I inwardly smiled when she moaned, but it couldn’t make it past the lust to my outward appearance, and instead of smiling with the pleasantness of Heaven, I pushed harder against her with a rising heat in my gut that was so fiery it must’ve come from Hell.

I had to remind myself every time to stop looking for a break in her kiss to breath, since there would never be.  She didn’t need to breath, and only let us lean away from each other when it was I that felt light-headed.

I was more on my back than she was, but it didn’t matter because she was heavier than she appeared and her body weighed us both down onto the couch, pressing my back into the cushions.  I always wondered if it was because of all the years she had to carry that resulted in such a heaviness, if it was the burden of so much deadened life that she had to lay across her shoulders that-

She entered my mouth, my tongue darting away from hers for but a moment after the chilling contact before pursuing it in full.  Her lips were full and while cold, they were not stiff; instead, they, along with the rest of her body, were always receptive, moldable, like putty, and not unpleasant.  In fact, in the nearly four months that I’d gotten to know her during, I found that I rather preferred the cold.  It made me feel accomplished whenever my own body heat managed to warm her skin; made me feel like I snuck a little life into her lifeless body.

Her thumb ran along the shell of my ear and I shivered, digging one hand firmly into her hair and throwing the other arm around her waist, locking her in a grip I knew she could break at any time she wanted to.  But she didn’t, and that had to mean something, and I kissed her harder than ever before, actually arching her neck back a little.

In turn she straddled my hips, legs curling around my thighs and feet digging into flesh.  Just like her teeth could be doing at any point she wanted.

I blanched, terror seizing me as my tongue ran across one of them, just enough to graze it but just enough to remind me it was there.  I tried to remember what all of my friends said about getting bitten, trying to feed off of their wisdom to sedate my fear.  Feed.  Haha, what terrible humor my terrified mind was coming up with.

Hoseok had only ever said it was uncomfortable, but the only way for a vampire to have a substitute , seeing as though their bodies didn’t react as ours did.  Seokjin didn’t mess with vamps.  Jimin was downright ing petrified of them.  Yoongi found the fact that they your blood, left you a little light-headed, and had the willpower to stop before harming you, hot, and admitted to loving whenever his long-standing girlfriend would sink her fangs into him when he reached his own , saying it could feel pretty riveting if you wanted it to or if it you were into it enough.  Namjoon said it was necessary, that it was only fair for you to let them do it, seeing as how you’re already making them go through something they wouldn’t regularly do if they had their way, which was funny, seeing as how they usually got their way anyways, with most people.

None of it made me feel much better, but instead encouraged an aroused fear to settle in my chest.  I let my tongue slide over her fangs again out of curiosity, out of something deeper than fear and more intimate than desire.  It was a possessiveness that forced its way into my body, a need to know everything about her and own them, make them mine despite her unrivaled supremacy.  Maybe it stemmed from knowing that men other than my friends liked the extensive thrill of getting bitten, and that maybe one day Genevieve would realize that, and then understand how much of a wimpy child I was, unfit for her tastes.

Maybe it was just a random, crazy, insane notion that popped into my head and made my body react.  Either way, I reacted, and slid commanding hands over and down her hips, past the small of her back to grip her .  She actually gasped, in a meaningless breath without trying to, without trying to just appear less different.

It was an honest-to-God response, and with it I felt like just a tad more life seeped into her.  Something about that sounded ungrateful in my head, though, and I couldn’t put my finger on it properly.  So instead, I put fingers around and under the cusp of her dress like I was threatening to rip the fabric from her body all together in one movement.

Like the animal we both were in those moments, she threatened me back, trailing manicured nails down my chest and to my stomach.  Fingers tugged the shirt out from being tucked in my pants, and her freezing hands made contact with hot skin.  It sent so many crushing waves of shivers throughout my core that I almost couldn’t kiss her back for a second, too caught up in gasping and tilting my head back and trying to keep my together at the same time to even remember how to kiss someone.

Luckily, she remembered, and took the handicapped time to slip from mine to dabble other areas of my face with polar lips.  They had no pattern to their travels, no consistency, and when I felt their soft caress around my earlobe, I began to wonder if she made it so far up her corporate ladder through morally legal actions.

Of course she did, I heard myself think, this is only for you.  There it was, the possessiveness that made me crave her complete and utter acceptance of my dominance, of my owning her, of my singular right to her body and laugh and smile.

God, if it only took me three months to get like this, I couldn’t imagine what a lifetime spent with her would be like.

“Jungkook,” she moaned, her breath drifting its way down to the soft skin of my neck.  I willingly threw my head back without thinking, without recognizing the danger beneath those pale lips of hers.  “Jungkook,” she said more urgently, and in the absence of on me I dug hands under her dress to grip at bare hips, almost chickening out at the last second as it would be the most I’d have ever touched of her body.

“Mmm…” I hummed to show she had my attention, though I’d rather be continuing on as we were.

“Are you confident?”  It caught me off guard and I didn’t know what she meant for a moment before I gazed up hungrily into her now hovering face, her eyes dilated and lips looking harassed.  She stared back, also hungrily, but the look on her was coupled with needle-like teeth peeking out from beneath her parted lips.

I was taken aback and gasped, suddenly being hit with every reason to be afraid and every reason to flee, experiencing every doubt I’d ever thought of in an instant, her fangs so close and so real and so ready to puncture me that I paled, shifting into a hue far whiter than hers.

She noticed and the disappointment flared in my heart as soon as I saw her eyebrows scrunch in frustration and effort, her lips curling back in an endeavor to the infernally, beautifully ghastly manifestation of her demonic uniqueness back into her gums, where they couldn’t scare the out of her boyfriend.

“No, no, no, no…” I mumbled, hands leaving her hips to cup her cheeks.  They were already gone, but I wanted them back in a daze, in a moment of complete weakness.  Or boldness.  Courage.  “Bring them back, babe.”

“Not if they are to horrify you,” she whispered, head hanging low and eyes on my exposed stomach.  “I understand, Jungkook.  There’s no need to mask your disgust; I am perfectly capable of handling it.”

“No, no, no; bring them back,” I begged, rubbing her cheekbones and gripping her chin in order to force her gaze back to mine.  “I’m not scared.”  She knew I was lying, and let her hands come to rest on either side of me, not on me.

“There’s nothing to mask, love.”

“I don’t want to be afraid,” I pleaded, the heated passion pooling out of my stomach and into my words instead, the aroused high I’d been finding myself on drifting into a cloud of earnest intention.  I wanted her teeth out and in front of me and maybe if I just let her bite me, I could get over the fear.  I could triumph the incessant, guilty tremors I felt in the presence of them.  “Please help me, Genevieve; help me conquer this thing.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, frowning, and I pulled her down to help our mouths to collide again.  She didn’t respond but I still moved against her, pinching my eyes shut lest I see her own hurt pair staring into my soul.  When I managed to break away and speak, it was without fully leaning away so that my lips brushed past hers every time they moved to form another word.

“Bite me,” I breathed, and I thought I could feel her hot exhale on my face before realizing it was only my own.  She shot back, taking with her the close proximity I’d learned to love.

“What?” she hissed, looking more frustrated than flustered.  “Do you even realize what you’ve asked of me?  Bite me is the equivalent to me, Jeon Jungkook, and biting one who shrinks from the sight of fangs isn’t pleasurable.  I may be dead, but I have more emotions than you seem to compute; giving you more reason to fear me by your neck is not what I want.”

“But what I want is for you to bite me,” I insisted, my thumb moving past her upper lip to prod the fang beneath, safely tucked half-up into her gums.  She didn’t look like she knew what to do.  “Please; nothing else.  You bite me and we can just watch the movie, or lie here, it doesn’t even matter.  All I want is to walk into work tomorrow, have my coworkers see the marks, and report me for failure to hide signs of vampire involvement.”

God, hadn’t I just been going on about wanting to control her, take everything from her?  Now I was begging, desperate for something that would only make me feel dizzy, and would possible only make her feel good.  But in the midst of another delirious moment, it was all I wanted for her to have my blood on her tongue, to see it splatter the corners of red and stain my shirt in the same color; I wanted my blood in her veins.

I needed her to bite me.  I needed it more than even the lust had convinced me I needed her body.

“Do it.”  Now, before I chicken out; before I regret it.  She looked like she wanted to, like, really wanted to, but there was such a hesitance in her stillness that I eventually just kissed her again, to get her back into the swing of things.  Our lips were slow, mine moving more eagerly than hers in the beginning, barely pressing against each other but still managing to give the whole ordeal a heavy feeling, a weighted atmosphere.

It only got heavier as she broke away and let her face find its own way into the dip of my neck, lightly pressing lips to warm skin and making me thank god for the fact that they weren’t cold anymore.  I didn’t think I could handle that.  She trailed a hand into my hair and let the other one curl under my armpit to grasp my shoulder from behind.

Her straddling legs tightened around me and I probably would’ve found something y about it, had I not heard the tiny, popping sounds of her fangs coming out.  I tenses, knowing she felt it but circling both arms around her hips to show her that I still wanted it, that I craved it badly.  It was no lie.

I waited in anticipation for the pain I was sure would arise, but she only teased me with the light grazing of needles against the delicate skin near my jugular.  My breaths were hiccupping and hindered by it all, and I realized as her fingers nervously twitched that she wasn’t teasing me, that she was scared to do it.  That she was scared to bite me more than I was scared of getting bit.

“Jenna,” I groaned, worried that my determination might evaporate as the pounding rays of reluctance shone down upon me.  “Babe, please, just bitttttttteeeeeeeee-ow!”  I broke off in exclamation as her teeth sank into flesh, gasping with the new feeling of invasion.  “!”

I cursed and tried to hold my tongue, but Genevieve didn’t seem like she cared anymore anyways.  Her lips puddled around the sight of the puncture, somehow hot and slippery and sliding around my neck despite trying to remain suctioned to one place.  It took me a moment to realize that it was my blood, my blood that made her tongue burn my skin and frazzle my nerve ending with its heat.

I tried to reign in the outcries, but lost hold of them as she tugged possessively on locks of my hair, riding out whatever high she was having.  I couldn’t help but feel tears form and drip down my face, possibly down my neck to , but I was trying not to focus on it too much.  The feeling you have when you get a shot, like something leaden being pumped into your veins that makes you stiff, was the exact opposite of what I was experiencing.

Something was getting pumped out, leaving me feeling like liquid instead of lead, like ice was replacing the fire in my veins.  Suddenly, amidst the terribly uncomfortable sensation of it, something else emerged.  And it was all good.  Nothing painful.  Nothing bad.  All pleasure.

I moaned loudly, unintentionally mixing it in amongst the initial whimpers, the clamorous upheaval of all my manliness and self-pride.  In a blinding instant her teeth felt like a drug, lulling me under a protective blanket and promising that none of what was said or done could have any consequence, as long as she kept the very life from me.

A buzzing murmur zipped past my lips continuously during an exhale, the following inhale consisting of little more than another gasp as I tipped my head back far as I could and her fangs caught on skin they weren’t meant to rip.  It hurt but again was merely drowned out by my crying whine that desperately begged Genevieve to keep going.

Her fingers dug into my shoulder and yanked on my hair, but with each passing second I could do less to respond to it.  When I opened my eyes after minutes of clamping them shut from the pleasure, the ceiling spun.  I couldn’t hear even my own moans anymore, and my fingers and toes started to tingle.  I didn’t know whether it was her weight above me or the ually-charged air, but I couldn’t breathe right.

I wheezed, and the moment my arms fell away from her to bounce onto the couch, something red swam in my vision.  That was also the moment when Jenna decided to stop.

Her fangs left me, her chest not heaving to intake air, but her elbows weak enough for her hands to relinquish their greedy hold on me.  She swayed and couldn’t keep herself uplifted, choosing instead to collapse on my chest, right where I didn’t have the strength to breathe deeply.

With her canines un-retracted and grazing my torso where she laid her head, I for some sick reason wanted them in my neck again, but thought better of it as I struggled to inhale again.  She, like she always did, noticed, and shakily propped herself up.

“Kookie.”  She rarely used that name, and I’d always thought it was too sweet for her tastes.  “Kookie, are you alright?”

I couldn’t answer, too focused on conserving oxygen, and she began to gain energy in the form of panic, eyes opening wide and leaving their lidded, blissful existence of few moments ago.  She leaned close to my face and gripped my shoulders, and I wanted to tell her I was alright, but I still couldn’t breathe well enough.

“Love, love, can you hear me?”  I wanted to tell her, but couldn’t.  “Blink three times for confirmation that you can hear me,” she wailed softly, and I was glad that I could at least do that, the numbing feeling in my limbs thankfully not reaching my eyes.  When I managed her request, she let out another weird breath that I knew had nothing to do with putting up falsities, but more with an instinctual hiccup of air that all humans were born with.  She’d been human once; some things never died.

She did, though, and there was the awkward humor in my head again…

“I’m sorry, I am so sorry, love; please know I mean my apologies in the deepest regard.  I took it much too far; this is what plagues your dreams, is it not?  Oh, I’m so sorry!”

I loved how she’d held onto most of her original speech habits, the old sentence formations, despite growing up into the new era day to day, year to year.  It was part of her charm, and I almost managed a smile at the thought that she was begging me for forgiveness, that she was weaker than even I in such a condition and laid open bare to my hand and judgment.

“It’s okay~” I wheezing, coughing a little and having to open my mouth wide to gather enough air to continue on talking.  “Fine~”

“Oh, Jungkook,” she started, using slight hands to push my bangs out of the way of my face.  Her fingers were warmed and I took comfort in their gentle caress, leaning into her when she the side of my face nervously.

“I’m good,” I said, gaining it all back slowly.  Very slowly.  “Don’t be sorry.”

“But-”

“I asked for this,” I chuckled weakly, knowing that I would never have just cut off someone so powerful and so immensely mighty in any other situation.  “How was it?”  The question caught her off guard, and she stumbled to come up with an answer.

“It’s been quite a good while since I had a feed like that one, Jungkook.”  My name said so quietly under her breath was pleasant to the ear, as was the odd flush to her pale cheeks to the eye.  “Not in fifty years have I managed to let myself be carried away so violently, and I apologize.”

“No apologizing,” I repeated, bringing a quaking hand to cup her cheek.  She, like always, seemed to like the warmth I could offer, and leaned into me, like very rarely.  “I liked it.”

“What?”  Her brows crinkled.  “I nearly drained you.”

“But you heard me near the end right?” I asked, and as in substitute of a blush, she hid behind my hand in what appeared to be embarrassment.  Good god, there was a first time for everything!

“I did.”

“Then you know how much I liked it.  I’ve dealt with enough hangovers to get over whatever this is, okay?”  She nibbled her lip, unconsciously poking her tongue out to the excess blood from her lips, and I suddenly wanted to bite her back, somehow.  I shook my head and contributed it all to the raving madness that was plaguing my head.

“Do you want for me to remain with you today and tomorrow?” she asked, looking as though she’d already made her decision, but was looking for permission.

“Of course.”  I was happy to give it.  I’d ‘of course’ her forever, and perhaps truly forever, if I ever decided to make that kind of commitment.  But that meant dying and that was scary and I’d just gotten over one fear.  No need to go messing around with another one; no need to tempt myself with terror after terror.  Not if I could lie there instead with Genevieve instead, drinking in her coolness.

Drinking…  Haha…  Oh, what a strange blueprint my mind must’ve been modeled after!

What a strange young man I was, lying on my couch, wrapped up in arms and legs with a vampire, and thoroughly enjoying every bit of it.

“Jungkook,” she murmured into my chest, and I hummed quietly, tired.  She shifted higher and planted a kiss on my neck, away the smudged blood around the incision and, I could only imagine, leaving my skin unblemished of anything but two puncture wounds.  “Fantastic job overcoming your fear.”

“Oh, thank you,” I murmured, falling farther into sleep.  “It’s really ‘cause of you.”

“Don’t be silly,” she chided, before kissing the underside of my jaw tenderly.  “Sleep, love.”

“Of course.”