“Coffee?” I ask when the door clicks open and Jongin walks into the kitchen. His hair is disheveled and fatigue makes his eyelids drowsy.

“Mmm.” He mumbles and I pour the liquid caffeine into a navy blue mug (his absolute favorite coffee cup) before placing it onto the counter in front of him.  

He takes a sip and sighs before pointing to the trash can. “I found it.”

“Found what?” I ask

“The spider. I went to get water around three this morning and saw it sitting on the wall by the fridge. I would’ve told you then, but you were sleeping.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.”

I don’t remember it being so awkward. I used to look him in the eye when we talked, but now all I do is stare at different things in the room and every so often glance at his face. The answers we give to each other have gotten smaller, and even the small talk is considerably depleted. When did it start? I noticed it around the time I was hospitalized. Although, it could have been going on for longer.

“Well, now you can have your whole bed all to yourself.” I laugh as I place a blood bag in front of Jongin. The government makes it a priority to supply all the vampires of the SHC department with a sustainable amount of blood. That way, it lowers the risk of one attacking an innocent.

He sighs and glances at the front door. “What if I don’t want it all to myself?”

I don’t really “hear” what he says until he’s already opening the door and letting Luhan and Kris in. And by that time I can’t really say anything about it.

“Oh Daeun, you moved back in?” Kris asks as he sits at the kitchen counter. 

“Yeah.” I reply and lean my elbows onto the cool granite kitchen table across from him.

“It’s about time you did, too. Jongin always complains about how much he-Ow!” Luhan rubs his shoulder in pain from what I believe was a punch from Jongin.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” The dark-haired boy asks Luhan.

“Nothing, you bastard.”

Rolling my eyes, I ask, “Now, what do you need?”

“Oh, right! Well, you see, we’ve traced Reeve and found out where he’s hiding.” Kris pauses and plops a grape from the bowl into his mouth. “They’re not all just Division III’s. There’s a Division I.”

Division II vampires, are what we call “natural” vampires. It basically means they’re born from vampire parents and thus, makes them naturally a vampire. The majority of them are a little distant from humans, considering us as food or inferior or, in most cases, both. Yes, they integrate with humans well, take up the same jobs, live in the same areas, but conform to human ideas, human feelings? They couldn’t care less. Although it’s wrong for me to say that all of them are like that. There are some who actually like to be on the same level as us. They aren’t distant. They don’t see us just for food. And that’s a good thing.

Humans that are changed into vampires, are classified as the Division III, the rogue group. They exist in the in between of dead and alive. Not like zombies, but perhaps like a regular human except without a heart beat and also having an insatiable need to drain every living being they see. The process of becoming a vampire is complicated and at the moment, unnecessary to delve into. All you have to know, is that a human becoming one, is completely unnatural. 

Even though their hearts stop, it doesn’t mean their human emotions disappear. Division III vampires are probably the most emotional type out there. And it’s because of these human feelings, that the majority of them start to terrorize the community and go insane. For example: a little boy is constantly bullied all the way through high school, until one day he is turned. The first thing he does, is go after those who , kicked him around, and let them die a long and painful death. You see, these newly turned vampires are used to feeling something, anything. And the sense of strength and power after killing someone, gives them that relief. They kill for the fun, but after a while, they start to lose themselves and kill because it’s become a habit. An incessant need to quench their newly formed instincts. Morals, self control, all slip through their fingers until it’s too late to save them. That’s why most murder cases dealing with vampires, are usually done by a Division III.

Now, Division I are rare. Special. They’re natural vampires, but with born talent or some kind of other worldly power. These are the ones who work with the SHC department. For some reason, they’re some sort of “goldilocks” of the vampire species. They’re aren’t overrun by human emotions, but they want to intermingle and bond with the human race. And having them as an ally is definitely a benefit. The thing is, finding a Division I, much less a Division I who knows they have abilities, is extremely hard and if not, close to impossible. I guess I was just lucky enough to run into Jongin, and not into some Division II or III.

_

  “Well, that’s just great.” I huff as I shut the door of the freezer. 

“What is?” Jongin asks as he slips into the living room, jumps onto the couch and turns on the TV. Muted voices and words slip along the walls and tiles of the kitchen.

“There’s no ice cream.” Grabbing my coat I rummage through my purse in search of my wallet. 

Jongin scoffs and a smile threatens to spread on his lips. “You can be such a kid some times.” I notice him glance out the window into the night, at the clock, back to the screen. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“The store is two minutes away. I think I can manage.” 

“Right.” He turns to me, tan skin even darker against his white shirt, hair messily perfect, and that quirk of a mouth that turns up at a corner when he’s in an especially good mood.

“Have fun.”

“Will do.” I say as I rush out the door, waving once in a temporary farewell kind of gesture. Hopping down the staircase and rushing out into the freezing, brisk air, my mind wanders. 

Reeve’s location is known. Tomorrow we’ll find him and most likely his crew, and that will be that. SHC will put down the group of Division III’s, and we’ll see if there is actually a Division I vampire leading them. But rather, what I’m more concerned about is, has he seen Sehun? Was he truly serious about speaking to him, that he was alive?

It’s probably a joke, I think as I remember the voice of a boy yelling at me to run. Under the glow of the lights of all the shops, the dirty snow along the road glistens like fresh blood. The automatic door of the convenience store slides open and I enter, warmth steadily returning to my body. I head into the frozen desserts section and pick out a quart of double chocolate ice cream. Just in case, I decide to get something for Jongin because right around this time he should be rummaging through the cabinets and pantry for something sweet to eat. 

On the tips of my toes, I stretch to reach the package on the top shelf. When I can’t grab it, someone else does and then hands me it.

“Thanks.” I say.

“No problem.” The stranger replies.

I don’t know why, but when I start to walk away I turn back to look at him. It was something about the way he spoke. Like he was sorry for something, and mad at the same time.

And it was a terrible idea for me to glance back because I catch a brief glimpse of his face and all the memories start rushing back, like I just broke a mental barrier that kept the pain away. 

“Get out of here, Daeun. Run!” 

The angle of the nose, the color of his eyes, the way mouth is set into an almost unapproachable frown. It all reminds me of my brother. If I had watched him grow up with me, that’s what I believe Sehun would look like. The star-shaped birthmark on my wrist burns.

“Just run.”

And I’m running. The plastic bag in my hand crackles violently, swinging around at my movements. When I reach the stairs, I pause to slow my breathing, calm my thoughts, because with his supernatural senses, Jongin would be able to feel my distress by the time I got to the fifth level. I climb the steps slowly, focusing on inhaling and exhaling in time with my footsteps until I reach our apartment. 

The door clicks open after I enter the code. I find Jongin scavenging through the pantry and it cheers me up a bit. Picking up the pepero I got at the store, I throw it at him and he catches it with an inhuman speed. He grins as he opens the package up and I sit on the couch after grabbing a spoon. I open up the container just as he enters the living room and sits next to me.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, nibbling on the end of the chocolate dipped biscuit. 

“No, why do you ask?” Spooning a mound of chocolatey goodness into my mouth, I change the channel.

“You’re such a bad liar. Usually you fling the pepero at my head like you really want it to give me a concussion. Just now, it was like a two year old made an attempt to dunk a basketball.”

I sigh, feel the waterfall of words start to drip from my throat. “I thought he was dead, Jongin. I thought Sehun was dead. And at the store I just remembered, it was my fault. There was a vampire that we ran into when we were kids. We weren’t even supposed to be outside at that time, but I begged him to take me to the store for something sweet to eat. And he gave in and took me. I think I was five, he was maybe nine, a few months before the public knew about vampires. 

“On the way back home, we took a shortcut, and-and there was a woman there. She started following us and no matter how fast we ran, she was right behind us. Out of nowhere, she grabbed Sehun by the collar and wouldn’t let him go. He convinced me to run away without him. But I tripped, and while I was getting up I turned to look back and saw him shaking because he was so scared. At the time I didn’t understand what the dark liquid that was dripping from his neck was. I was about to go back to him, but he said, “Just run” and I did.

“I told my parents as soon as I reached home. They immediately called the police and the next morning, they arrived at our door and confirmed that he was most likely dead. There was a lot of blood at the crime scene, no body, but the DNA results matched. The next few weeks were spent planning his funeral. And then this man showed up, claimed he saw the news about Sehun’s death and said he was his father. There were heated debates between my parents as they argued about his real father, and my mother confessed that it could be possible. The tests proved it. She had had this fling with that man around the time my parents were getting married. But for my sake, they stayed together. Didn’t make it more pleasant though; walking into a room with both of them in it, was like walking into a cold war without a gun.”

Jongin wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me closer, brings my hand to his cheek like how he usually does. “That’s why they were always fighting?” 

“Yeah. I basically didn’t exist anymore. A ghost in my own life.”

The TV and the cars humming outside fill the quiet and all these random thoughts bounce around in my head. A simple distraction my mind does on its own, like a defense mechanism. The ice cream sits lonely on the living room table, slowly thawing and turning into a creamy mush. 

“Why did you decide to take me in when you found me?” Jongin mumbles into my finger tips. For a brief second, I imagine the feel of his lips on mine.

“I don’t know.” I say.

“That’s a lame answer.” It’s very much like Jongin to know how to distract my mind from difficult things. 

“Okay, fine. I found this stray puppy when I was younger. I fed it and it hung around my house. It was almost like the companion, the kind that doesn’t have to talk to share a bond with you, that I had always wanted. I named him Snow because when I first saw him, the light shone through his fur and lit it up like fresh snow, and at the age of five I wasn’t that creative with naming things. He helped me through the first year without Sehun. And then a little after, he was gone.”

“Gone?”

“Mhm. I don’t know if someone picked him up, or if a car ran over him. But he just disappeared.

“Anyway, when I first met you, there was a look in your eyes that reminded me of Snow when I found him. This desperate, but hopeless look. Like you both wanted to stay, but had given up and was ready to just leave the world. I guess I kind of thought that maybe he had to leave in order to let you into my life. But I was eight, what did I know?”

“But weren’t you scared? I know I looked a bit harmless, but I told you I was a vampire and at that age you must’ve put together that a vampire had “killed” your brother. Why didn’t you run?”

“Because the last time I was told to run, it didn’t end so well, did it?”

“Still. If I hadn’t had restraint, I could’ve killed you.”

“Jongin, I’m sure you wouldn’t have.”

He places his lips on the back of my hand, closes his eyes, and inhales. “Daeun, a vampire is a vampire. Don’t forget that.”

Through the black fringe of hair, he glances up at me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking right now, and it bothers me because I usually can. He’s straightforward about things, and blunt at times, although not very great at expressing his feelings, but when he suddenly keeps his thoughts guarded, his expression blank, that’s when I know there’s something seriously wrong.

“You’re upset. I’m sorry.” I mutter and he shakes his head.

“I’m not upset. Don’t worry about it.” Jongin stands and ruffles my hair. “Get some sleep.” He says before disappearing into his room.