JONGIN

To be honest, I don’t know what possessed me to stay when she told me “Don’t move!” I knew that we could not coexist with each other. I knew that it was better for her if I left, never saw her again. Yet, I stayed. I didn’t move. Was it her smile? Or maybe the way she talked? That tear that rolled down her cheek? No. It had been all of her. Every single little thing about her. She didn’t even run when I told her I was a monster. Only nodded her head and reached out a hand to me. 

And when I took her hand, I knew I had been saved. I knew that I could be whole again, glued back together. Home was anywhere and everywhere she was. Home was her. Her light, tinkling laughter. Her dark, cascading locks of hair and that smile. That goddamn smile that became the light to my gloom. 

I’d stay up at night sometimes, brush away loose strands of hair from her face, examine the gentle curves of her cheek or her nose. Notice the way her eyelashes sat, impossibly long, on her eyelids. And I’d never tell her, because I’d be so damn embarrassed if she knew.

Even when I had my job working at the bar, her face would always float in the periphery of my mind. A daydream that I had to suppress while awake. I remember asking Luhan and Kris about random chest aches and the empty feeling I had in my heart. They asked when the symptoms occurred and my reply had been I usually get it when I’m here. But when I go home, it’s all better. Like I never had it. 

“Well, what’s at home?” Luhan questioned, leaning against the bar counter.

“Home? Daeun’s there.” 

“Daeun? The girl that was with you when we first met?” Kris inquired and I nodded. The two exchanged amused glances and started to laugh. 

“I know exactly what’s wrong.” Both patted my back. “It’s actually quite chronic, and sometimes even fatal.”

My throat went dry, and I swallowed hard. “What is it? Is it really bad? Am I actually going to die?”

“Hmm.” Kris organized the wine bottles and clean glasses. “It’s called love. As for whether you’ll die from it or not, is very hard to say.”

I had wanted to laugh with both of them and say how silly they were. Making things like that up, they were surely joking. But I had realized that it wasn’t a joke when I stepped through the door of the apartment and saw her in the kitchen. A glass of water in her hand, a smile lightly brushed on her lips, the hollow feeling completely gone and forgotten. 

“No.” I had said earlier. “What if you get hurt?” 

She looked at me, no fear or hesitation in her eyes. “People are dying, and only more will keep being murdered if we don’t find the Division III vampires right now. If this is something that I can do to stop all of this, I’m willing to do it.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have walked away. Maybe I should have stayed with her. I asked her what if she got hurt? The answer, I should have known all along. It was my job to prevent that from happening.

I start to race out of my apartment building, hoping I’m not too late, but then something beeps in the back of my mind and I glance around to find the source of the noise. Realizing it’s my phone, I grab it and press answer. I’m running faster because I know I am indeed too late.

“Jongin.” Kris says. “Daeun, she-”

I don’t hear the rest. Everything’s just a blur of panic and regret.

I spend countless hours by her side. Even when visiting times are over, I beg the nurse to let me stay. She notices me hanging on to Daeun’s hands like a lifeline, the look in my eyes, and she agrees. I don’t sleep that much, and at times my eyes cross from the strain of staying up. But I can’t think of sleeping right now, when I know Daeun may never wake up. 

How long have I been here? Two days? Three? I don’t know. All I really care about is Daeun. Wake up, Daeun. Wake up. It becomes a silent mantra that I repeat in my head. I hold onto her like a monk holding his prayer beads, head slightly bowed. 

Then, after I’m past the point where I’m so tired that I’m awake, she stirs and her eyes flutter open.

DAEUN

To be honest, I’m a little disappointed that Jongin won’t be there, watching from the sidelines. He’s like my personal safety net, and there’s an overwhelming sense of loss when I realize that in the brisk cold of night, I’m really the only person capable of saving myself if anything goes wrong.

Yes, there is back up. There are SHC members, humans and vampires alike, in the shadows or within the crowd of bustling people. But none of them are Jongin. God, why’d he have to run off like that? Just because he couldn’t have his way? 

“Do you see anyone that could possibly be the guy?” I hear Kris’ voice crackle on my earpiece. 

“No, not yet. No one seems particularly vampire-ish here.” I respond.

“Maybe we just have the wrong location.” Another guy, Kyungsoo, offers.

“If not here, then where?” I wonder, taking in the vast amount of giggling teenage girls roaming the street.

Then I see it. The figure leaning against a wall of a cosmetic shop, inhaling a cigarette, and watching everybody pass by. He looks normal, except I’ve seen people like him all the time. The way he in the smoke like it’s blood, they way the corner of he mouth tilts upwards and his teeth shine in the florescent light, menacing and threatening.

“Oh, there he is.” I mumble.

“Are you sure you’ll be safe?” Luhan asks.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Really? Because Jongin will have my head if you get hurt.” Kris mutters.

“If he didn’t want me to scrape a knee or two, he would be here, right?” I snap, suddenly so angry I have to tell myself to count to ten. No one answers and an uncomfortable silence looms between the microchips and wires of our communicating devices. “Don’t make a move until I tell you to. You might scare him away.” I add playfully to ease the silence. A few chuckle at my response.

“Scare him away. Right.” Kyungsoo says. I can picture him rolling his eyes.

I pass the store and “accidentally” trip on the sidewalk. A searing pain rushes to my right knee as blood starts to trickle from the wound. Sure enough, the vampire notices and quickly comes to my aid. 

“Alright there, miss?” He asks. Brown, wavy hair pushed to one side of his face and a concerned look in his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. My knee sure is bleeding a lot though.” I manage. 

I can almost hear the plan he’s laying out in his head. Injured girl. Offer help. Take her away. Have dinner.

And the vampire does exactly that. He suggests to take me to a nearby pharmacy and I agree. Although it’s clear that no help is going to be given when we pass two pharmacies. By the time we arrive at another medical center, he is already gripping my wrist and dragging me to the more emptier areas. I whine, try to pry off his fingers like the little helpless girl I’m pretending to be, and he ignores my pleas and pushes me into an alley.

My revolver hums in my hand as I cower into the a dark corner. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, no, it won’t hurt a bit. All you’ll feel is something like a bee sting and then it’ll be over.” He says like a nurse calming a little kid about a shot.

The vampire advances on me and holds me up by the collar. He hisses and leans into my neck just as I bring around the gun to his heart. But when I pull the trigger, the bullet ricochets off the brick wall in front of me, not in his chest.  

“I know you’re a cop, and you have back up somewhere.”

“I’m not a cop.” I say as I aim for his chest again. This time it hits his abdomen and he howls in pain as I take the brief opportunity to run. “Guys, we have a problem.” I rush into the speaker as I sprint out of the alley. Someone says something over the line, but my heart drowns out the words. 

I don’t remember what happened next. But I do remember hearing a voice telling me that I was stupid for getting hurt.

My head pounds a little. Kind of like that feeling you get when you oversleep. I open my eyes, take in the morning light, and then do a double-take.

“Jongin?” My voice is hoarse and strained like I haven’t used it in a while. Why is he in my room, I wonder. Then I realize that it isn’t my room. White walls, white sheets, the smell of disinfectant in the air. I’m in a hospital. But why? I try to recall my memories and events come flooding back. Glowing, starving eyes, being pushed back into a cold wall, falling, hearing a gunshot or two.

“Why didn’t you aim for his heart? I know it wouldn’t have killed him but it certainly would have given you a lot more time to run.” I hear Jongin say.

“I don’t know. I missed, okay? I missed.”

A lady with a petite frame and round face walks in and smiles when she sees me. “You’re up! Good, good. I’ll send in the doctor right after I get you both some food.” She says as she scurries away. I turn back to Jongin and take in his messy hair and his sleepy eyes. The husky scent of him is even stronger with the absence of his cologne. 

“How long were you here?” I ask him and he shrugs.

“I really don’t know.” Jongin answers just as the nurse comes back in carrying two trays of hospital food. When she places them on the movable table in front of me she adds, “I slipped you both some ice cream even though it’s supposed to be breakfast.” I reply with a smile and a small thank you.

“Um, do you know how long I’ve been out?” I question the nurse and she takes a second to think.

“I believe you’ve been here for about four nights and this is your fourth day.” She pauses and considers something. “You’ve got a great boyfriend. Stayed with you this whole time.” 

“He’s not-” I convince just as Jongin says, “I’m not-” and the nurse looks at us with an amused expression. 

“If you need anything, just push the blue button.” She motions to the little white remote by my side before heading out and closing the door. It’s only now that I take in her words and realize Jongin’s been here for a good four days. 

“Did you get any sleep?” My voice is thin and exasperated. 

“Some.”

“How much is some?”

“Like, three hours?”

“Per day?”

“In total.”

“God, Jongin, go home, take a shower and get some rest. And I want you to take a break from work for a couple days to regain your sleep.”

“No. How am I supposed to leave now that you’ve woken up? And I’m not taking a break. What if you go do something insane and get hurt again? You should be the one to take a sick leave.”

“I won’t do something crazy. Jongin, take a break.”

“Nope, I won’t.”

“Jongin, listen to me.”

“No.”

“Go home.”

“I said no.”

I sigh. “If you go home now, and take two days off, I’ll,” I fidget, looking for words. “I’ll do just about anything for you.”

He settles back in his chair, a smile spreading across his lips. “Anything?” He taps his chin, thinking and I’m starting to regret my words. “Move back in with me.”

“No.”

“I’m staying then.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

He shrugs, spoons ice cream into his mouth without a care in the world. I give up, I tell myself. I’m not going to do what he wants, and he can be tired for all I care. But the more I look at the shadows under his eyes, and the way he stifles multiple yawns, I give in.

“Fine.” I mumble and devour my portion of the frozen dessert. Jongin raises his eyebrows in shock, the plastic spoon still in his mouth. “Under one condition. I get my own room.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

He considers saying something else, but then smiles and shakes his head. After moving all the uneaten food on his plate- a fruit cocktail, chocolate pudding, and a small pastry -to mine, he stands and places a kiss on my forehead.

“Two days, Daeun.” His converse scuff against the tiled ground. “You promised.”

Indeed I did. 

I’m released from the hospital a few hours after Jongin leaves. My body feels a little stiff, my neck a little sore, but overall, I feel fine. Completely recovered from my slight concussion. Which is a good thing, because murder cases don’t take vacations. Before I know it, I’m back at the agency, bombarded with small little gifts of chocolates and cards that say hope for a steady and successful recovery, and back in my office sorting through more cases.

A word to sum up the days that Jongin isn’t there with me: boring.

_

Jongin seems to be overjoyed. “It’s because I don’t have to talk to myself anymore.” He told me as he pushed the last cardboard box of my things into his apartment. The surroundings and layout are still familiar: creme walls with dark amber furniture and hi-tech appliances, finished off with a touch of a suburban feel-mainly because my previous living space had been in the same building as Jongin’s. 

It was a different bargain I had made a couple years ago. In order to move out, I had to stay, at least, in the same apartment complex as him. 

The first thing I notice, is how clean the place is. There are no dishes in the sink, no papers strewn across the kitchen and living room tables, no clothes haphazardly dropped along the floor. There’s even a plant that’s alive. Sure, after I left I’ve still been in and out a few times, but I’ve never really looked around. I’d been too busy yelling at Jongin to wake up.

“You’re even more organized than I am.”  I breathe as he guides me to my new room.

“Well, it’s normally not this clean all the time. I just had some spare time on my hands so I tidied up.”

“And where did you get that spare time?”  I ask and he shrugs. “Jongin, I told you to rest-”

“I did rest! But you can’t sleep for two whole days and not get up at some point. I was bored, okay? You prohibited me from going anywhere so I turned to cleaning.”

I laugh as I jump onto the bed. “Wow, you must’ve really had nothing better to do.”

“Yeah, thanks to someone.” Jongin sits on the ground, places his chin on the edge of the bed, looks up at me. I prop myself up on my elbow and he takes my free hand, bringing it close to his cheek. “But that’s fine, anything for you.”

God, I hope I’m not blushing. I hope I don’t look ridiculous trying not to smile. Is he messing with me? Is he trying to make me punch him at his cheesiness? The answer is clear in his eyes. No. He’s serious. He’s goddamn serious. And it doesn’t help that he’s so close. Doesn’t help that his face is only inches away from mine.

“I have to change.” I say suddenly, sitting up. 

Jongin doesn’t seem to register this at first. He tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows before his eyes light up in understanding. Nodding, he gets up and heads out the door. I’m just getting off the bed as he pokes his head into the room again.

“You know, if you need help I’m just down the hallway.” He says, hand on the doorknob and shoulder leaning against the doorframe.

“Help? Why would I need help?” I ask. 

Jongin shrugs, waggles his eyebrows. Appalled, I lift a pillow and unsuccessfully fling it at his face. He shuts the door, laughing, before the pillow is even halfway across the room.