“Hello, Daeun. I’m Dr. Jane Dwight and I’m the psychologist evaluating you today.”

She reaches her hand out and I take it with a hesitant shake. “Hello.”

“How are you today, Daeun? Are you stressed, anxious?”

“I’m not suffering from PTSD if that’s what you’re getting at.”

“Alright. I’ll get to it then. There was a bomb planted in the building. Who set it off?”

“There was a man….made of shadows. He called himself the Original and he was the one behind all of this mess.”

“A man? I thought Yoonmi was behind all of this. Was she not?”

“She’s innocent.”

“Yoonmi had no place in this scheme?”

“She was being used against her will. The man possessed her.”

The psychologist paused, lips pursed and mind running. I could tell she didn’t believe me, even though it was the truth. I guess the idea of possession is a strange thing in a society that turns exorcisms into late night fun on Halloween, in a society that only believes in physical scientific fact to create their reality.

Which is funny, because a century ago, vampires were mythical creatures who existence science had not proven.

“How did you find her?”

“I was hit on the head, then taken somewhere else while I was unconscious. I found Yoonmi half-dead in that room.”

“So, after you were hit on the head, you woke up in a room with a strange man—made of shadows, did you say?— this…Original, he called himself? Then what happened?”

“Then Baekhyun came in, fought with the man. When we couldn’t fight him off any longer, I thought we were almost done for. But then something strange happened…there was a…a white light…and suddenly the man wasn’t there anymore. Yoonmi told us that the man had already started the clock long before we got there. Luhan found us right after, helped us make it out of the building before the bomb set off.”

She scribbles information down quickly, information that I don’t really know if it’s useful or not.

“Thank you for your time, Daeun.”

The evaluator stands to leave. I stay and look out the window.

If I’m to be completely honest, I omitted some details. Like how it wasn’t really a white light that somehow miraculously saved us, but something innate within me, desperate to stay alive, that took over me. It wasn’t me, I’ll tell you that, because when it happened my arms and legs acted on their own. I felt no pain when it happened, no ache in my joints and muscles. There was only strength. And I saw the fear in those black holes of eyes in the man. I saw that fear and I knew in that moment, or more like something whispered it into my head, that I…that we had won this time. I felt the strength of many beside me, and if I actually saw what I did, I remember dozens of women from all different ethnic backgrounds and time periods surrounding me. They were my past lives. I felt it in my bones. And together we shoved the man of shadows back into the ground which was a fiery pit that opened its hungry mouth and swallowed him away to another world. 

The past left me with hushed goodbyes and the strength had rushed out me so I almost crumbled to the floor, but Luhan had caught me and hung me over his shoulder. I remember he regarded me with a strange expression, but I hadn’t—couldn’t—say anything because even speaking was too much energy for me. 

Baekhyun pulled himself up to his feet, the bruises and cuts on his face healing incredibly fast, as he looked at me with a similar expression as Luhan’s. I was fading in and out already by the time Yoonmi cried out, “He expected that he wouldn’t win, so h-he set up the bomb as a back up. We, we have to get out.”

She seemed better. Still a disfigured and bloody mess, but she sounded like herself. I almost cried then because I was so relieved to finally have my Yoonmi back. My not-blood-sister that had cared for me, treated me like her very own family. But there was no time to cry because we were already taking off to the staircase, desperation in the pace of our running. I was slowing everyone down because I was, well, human, so Luhan had swept me off my feet and placed me on his back. I held on for dear life as they ran with their inhuman speed. 

We made it out safely. Luhan and the fully recovered Baekhyun started to order everyone to move away from the building and the ticking bomb inside of it. We were still close enough to feel the ground shake when the building exploded into orange and red shadows. It was a dangerously beautiful ballet of flames. 

Shortly after the explosion, I was rushed off to the hospital. Not because of my injuries, but because Jongin was hurt. He’s in critical condition, the doctor had said. He’s lost so much blood. It’s a wonder he’s still alive and speaking. 

Why aren’t you doing anything about it? I had questioned in an exasperated tone. The doctor seemed unsure and fidgety.

Mr. Jongin demanded that he see you first before we were to help him.

Daeun? Jongin had mumbled when I entered the room. He was so pale, lips almost blue, eyes sunken in. The doctor also had explained that Jongin refused to drink any blood until I arrived, and there was no other way to cure a blood deprived living, but dying, vampire than by drinking blood. What a stubborn, stupid idiot, I had thought.

I remember remotely Luhan asking everyone to leave the room and when that was accomplished he himself left. We were alone in that hospital room. 

Daeun, is that you. His voice was so weak I couldn’t even distinguish the lilt of a question. 

Yes. I replied. I ran a hand through his hair, traced a finger across his cheek and thumbed his bottom lip. He managed a smile.

I remember everything now. I remember it all. I remember that I’m kinda stupid, too. He sighed.

I wouldn’t mind dying right now, it hurts a lot…I am dying, aren’t I?

Yes, you idiot. You’re dying because you refused to drink blood.

I’m not drinking anything until I got your permission, Daeun. I don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt you…especially after Minkyung. He winced like the memory caused him the physical pain, not the blood loss. Nothing tastes good anyway. I didn’t want any.

I was silent for a while. But you need it to live, Jongin.

I need you to live, Daeun. I remembered that, too.

Jongin, I can’t lose you. I leaned closer. I looked into the eyes that finally remembered me again. His breath was shallow and I had thought I was ridiculous. Couldn’t I wait to say everything until he was fed and all better? But for some reason I had to speak. Jongin, I love you.

He paused and glanced at me. I love you even more, Daeun. You wouldn’t even know.

Danmi had once said that, “there is another way to change a vampire into a human. Black magic is one, but the other is to give some blood from the Pure One to a vampire who’s almost bled to death.”

Jongin’s lost a lot of blood. 

Human. That’s what Jongin would become if I gave him my blood. He would heal a lot faster and his survival would be a guarantee, but then he’d become human. For some reason at the time I felt like it would’ve been better if he just received blood from some Jane Doe. Granted that he would heal a lot slower, and maybe there wasn’t even a guarantee that the hospital would find a volunteer in time at this point. But I felt like taking away his vampire nature and replacing it with weak human traits was wrong of me. He was a vampire, born a vampire from his vampire parents who died early and in a traumatizing way. Wouldn’t becoming human replace his ties to his parents? To his childhood?

Jongin, do you want to be human? I had to know. He was dying, but I had to know. Sometimes I’m really stupid. Most of the time I’m really stupid. 

He laughed then. As long as you’re still by my side, I don’t care what I am.

But isn’t being a vampire the last connection you have with your family?

Jongin looked long and hard at me before smiling, Daeun, I miss them. I really do. I miss my parents a lot. But you are my family now.

I had leaned over and rested my head next to his, neck open. Go ahead, then. Live.

“Ms. Daeun?” A soft voice calls out.

I turn my head towards the door. A nurse stands cautiously by the door, holding a clipboard with trembling fingers. “Mr. Jongin has just woken up and is fully recovered. Would you like to see him now?”

I nod eagerly with a smile, and the trembling in her hands stop. She leads me to a recovery room, and opens the door for me. It slides and dully thuds when it’s fully open. I thank her with a slight bow of my head. She nods back and closes the door behind me, the sound of her footsteps growing fainter. 

 His bed is near the window and he’s looking out at the city and people outside. His eyes move quickly, taking and absorbing everything all at once like a blind man finally seeing colors. Which is odd, because vampires see the world more clearly and vibrantly through their superhuman vision. I move silently, and he only notices me when I’m more than halfway across the room.

“Oh,” he says, surprised. His eyebrows are raised. “You’re here already.”

“Yeah,” I murmur, walking closer still. “I wanted to stay with you, but they made me leave.”

Jongin smiles warmly, stretching out an arm and scooting over on the bed. He takes my hand and guides me to sit next to him. “Well, you’re here now. That’s what counts.”

“How do you feel?” I ask.

“My head is pounding. I feel weak. Everything I do is slow. I feel…I feel so human.” Then he smiles even bigger. “But at least I get to be human with you.”

“Idiot,” I mutter, shifting closer to him until I feel whole again, his cheek on my head, his arm around my shoulders, my arm hugging his waist. “Being human .”

“Are you sure? I guess I’m going to have to change your mind about that.” There’s a smile in his voice and he faces the window again. “I feel appreciative of things more now. I feel more calm and peaceful than I’ve ever been before. If this is what being human means, I’m all for it.”

“Hah. Okay, sure. I suppose it’s different for everyone.” I look at him as he continues to stare out the window. I can see stubble on his chin, his hair is messed up, and there are bags under his eyes. He’s a wreck right now, but to me he has never seemed more perfect. The thought itself makes me feel cheesy and I giggle at myself.

Now he shifts his attention to me. “What?” He whispers.

“Nothing,” I say, and he smiles.

“Whenever someone says nothing, they usually mean something.”

“Alright, fine. But it’s embarrassing.”

There’s a mischievous glint to his eyes. “Then say it softly in my ear and maybe no one will hear you.”

I laugh. “There’s no one else here to hear me anyway.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“Alright.” Boldly, uncharacteristically, I lean over until my lips brush by his ears. I feel him shiver and I hold on to his hand tighter. “I was just thinking, that I’m in love with you.”

I hear him swallow, and I lean my head into the crook of his neck, lightly brushing kisses against his neck until I finally rest my head on his shoulder. 

_

“Here,” I say while handing over a bag with white sparkly tissue paper 

Jongin looks at the bag, then at me, before taking it into his hands. “What’s this?”

“Well, maybe if you open it you’ll find out. Duh.”

“Okay, Ms. Sassy. I’ll open it.” He rifles through the tissue paper before dragging out a short-sleeved shirt. It’s white—obviously because white is amazing on him—with thin black stripes on it. He squints his eyes when something on the sleeve catches his eyes. It’s a navy blue heart that I got custom-stitched on. “What’s the occasion?”

I decide to toy with him for a bit, and I fake a frown. “What do you mean? You don’t remember?” I feign an angry expression and cross my arms. His face visibly pales. 

“The day we met…? But that’s not until another two months…wait, our anniversary?!” He starts counting, probably the number of months we’ve been together, on his fingers.

“I’m kidding. It’s nothing that important,” I laugh and he furrows his eyebrows in annoyance and relief. “I promised to get you another shirt, remember?”

He tilts his head, trying to remember and when he does his eyes light up. “Wow, Daeun. You remember that? I wasn’t even expecting you to do it, it was just cute that you even said that at the time.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to do it, so there. Plus, you can wear my heart wherever you go.” I touch the blue heart on the sleeve of the shirt, and Jongin smiles.

“I’m going to wear your heart right now, then.”

“Ugh, you’re corny.”

“And you love me.” He starts to pull off the shirt he’s wearing now and I squeak in surprise. 

“What are you doing?” I struggle to pull the shirt back down.

“I’m going to wear the shirt you’ve given me.”

“I know, but why are you doing it here?”

“If not here, then where? Do I really have to get up to go change in the bathroom or something? Come on, Daeun. Don’t be a little kid.”

“I’m not being a kid. It’s just…”

“Does it make you uncomfortable? I didn’t know you were so innocent, little Daeun.” He laughs almost in a condescending manner and I glare at him. “Fine, fine, I’ll just go and—“

I roughly take his shirt off—I definitely don’t notice the smooth skin and abs, no definitely not—and push the new shirt onto his head. “So what if I’m uncomfortable. Doesn’t mean I’m a kid. Stop making me feel like one.”

He chuckles and pulls his arms through their openings. “Don’t worry, Daeun. I’ve never thought of you as just a kid.” There’s a dark longing expression in his eyes. That same hunger I saw in his eyes a couple of Christmases ago when I got him that white coat.

Not knowing what else to do, I point at his shirt. “It looks better than I thought it would on you.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

It finally feels normal around here once and for all.