Sorry for the wait guys. Hopefully I'll be updating a lot more frequently because I'm now on spring break!

“Is it better today, Daeun?”

“Are you still having nightmares?”

“Do you still see him in your dreams?”

I wake up to these questions ringing in my ears. Questions that have been repeated multiple times, bunches of sentences and words on a never ending playlist. And I have always answered them with the easiest conclusions.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“See who?”

All the psychiatrists would give me a sympathetic glance or a slight disappointed tsk, and then scribble animatedly on papers of printed ink words that I didn’t understand. In the end, they came up with the same diagnostic: I was traumatized, and I had completely erased my memories. But in fact, I hadn’t.  I gave the shortest, but most precise answers that I could conjure, because clearer answers meant less time spent with a person who dealt with insane people.

The doctors said I was fine, but for two years I went nearly mute. Eventually, my parents gave up trying to help me. I think my father finding out that Sehun wasn’t actually his son, and that he was presumably dead, just drove him over the brink of the calm temper he normally had. I can see why a response less daughter would get pushed back to the furthest recesses of their thoughts.

I ended up speaking again because Sehun’s disappearance didn’t bother me that much anymore. It was always there, the memory looking for a crack in the façade of my peace, but I had learned to deal with it. Though, I don’t think they noticed or bothered to pay attention when I spoke my first words in years. Which didn’t phase me too much; I had grown used to blending into the walls of my childhood.

I suppose this is why I hold Jongin so close. He was the one who truly broke me out of that depressing loneliness. Because he was depressingly lonely himself. What would I have done if I hadn’t met him? If he had died like he had wanted to? I’d probably still be hiding in the glass section of the past.

“We’re here.” He states as he pulls up to a curb a few blocks away from our destination. 

I head out of the passenger seat while all the others who arrived earlier engage in quiet conversations. They discuss how the back up will go that way, or how the main squad will infiltrate the building. Jongin restates our job, but the irregular pounding of my heart drowns out his words. Someone asks me for permission to move on and I nod; the crowd advances towards the old warehouse. 

Daeun. The wind whispers into my ear. I turn my head to look at my surroundings and see a flash of movement, a shadow I recognize.

“You go on.” I tell Jongin. “I have something to take care of.” Before he can refuse, I’m running into a small, narrow lane lined by three story buildings. The length of the pathway is fairly long and when it does stop, I arrive at a cottage-like house. The windows are boarded, but the door hangs open just enough to see into the black abyss of the unlit room. There are white covers over the furniture, rusty chandeliers, pieces of broken glass littering the tarnished wood floor. I see a stair case that leads to the second floor, but anything other than the space I stand in now is dark, the light from the opened door not able to reach that far, and I don’t see any light switches anywhere. 

So I have to crawl up the steps and feel my way with the walls until I see a light through the space underneath a door at the end of a hall. There’s music playing, the kind of music you would hear coming from a dusty record player in an old-fashioned black and white movie. I open the door and it creaks from the strain. The room is lined with mirrors fastened to the wall, record player moved to a corner, and I realize I’m stepping into an abandoned dance studio. An opened window with flowing white curtains sits on the east wall. It brightens the room in an eerie way.

The music stops flowing and I spin to face the record player. The needle that reads the record is hanging in midair, something that can only be done by a purposeful action, not by some random wind. A floorboard creaks behind me and I glance up into the mirrors, almost screaming as I see the figure leaning against the wall behind me. 

“Sehun.” I say, and the shadow steps into the light streaming in from the window. His face is slimmer, he’s taller with a slight build, but other than that, nothing has really changed. The boyishness is still there, just hiding behind the translucent features of the man he has grown into. 

“I thought I’d never see you again.” He says.

“I thought you were dead.” I reply. 

He paces the room with a small smile on his lips. “Well, I guess I did sort of die.” Seeing the confusion on my face, he continues. “I’m assuming you found out that I have a different father. You see, he’s a vampire.” And then it clicks.

“I’m sure you know, that when a hybrid dies at the hand of a vampire-”

“The human dies away, but the vampire part stays.” I finish, and he nods.

I’ve only heard stories about them. The offspring of a human and a vampire. It seemed like a myth, a legend, because I have never crossed paths with one. They are extremely rare, even more than a Division I. The mother, human or not, usually dies from the stress of bearing a hybrid child.  

“Where’d you go after that, then?” I wonder out loud.

“I don’t really remember the first few months all that well. It was this blur just trying to survive and not lose my sanity. I couldn’t even visit because I couldn’t trust myself. You remember that woman who was after us? She was told to turn me, and when I asked her who sent her, she wouldn’t answer. Instead, she ripped out her own heart.”

A breeze flutters in through the window, causing the peeling wallpaper on the walls to flap in the wind. “Why’d you run away, Daeun?”

I sigh. “I wasn’t wanted anymore, and I wanted to go to the city to make something of myself.” I omit some details, but Sehun catches on nonetheless.

“Did he have anything to do with it?” He’s referring to Jongin, I realize. 

“No.” I pause. “A little.”

“What’s so special about him?” He turns the record in place. “What makes you trust him, a vampire?”

“I don’t know.” Shrugging, I glance out the window. 

“If you had to choose between him and me, who would you pick?” Sehun traces a finger in the thin layer or dust that settles

on the mirror.

“I hardly remember you, Sehun. And he’s been with me for ten years. I know you’re my brother, but if I had no choice but to pick only one, it would be him.” I lay out the blunt, harsh truth and he doesn’t seem to like that.

“But I’m sure you would remember that I’m an extremely jealous person, right? Just take care of him before he gets hurt.”

He starts walking out of the room, hands in both pockets.

“Wait, what do you mean?” I manage to choke out, even though I already know the answer to my question.

“Go look for yourself.”

The icy air I breathe in burns in my lungs but I push through and keep running. My heart drops into my stomach when I see a crowd standing in nervous anxiety just outside the abandoned warehouse.

“Jongin.” I breathe, just as I see him on the ground, impaled with an object covered in blood. “Jongin!” I push through the throng of people to reach him. 

“Can you hear me?” I say in exasperation. His eyes don’t flutter open. “Come on, open your damn eyes.” 

Someone touches my shoulder. “Daeun, he’s alive, but you need to let the medics do their work.” Luhan murmurs into my ear. Vampires are immortal, but not invincible. Extreme damage to his organs won’t be enough to kill him, but it’ll enough to put him in a coma for weeks. Officials in white uniforms rush to Jongin. 

“What happened?” I ask Luhan.

“When we first went in, it was empty. Then they came out of nowhere. Division III’s in their final stage. Luckily, we were

able to put them down before any more damage was done.”

The life of a Division III is separated in three stages: The gradual loss of humanity, the uncontrollable killing spree, and then the complete disappearance of emotions. This final stage is the most dangerous. They practically become zombies, unable to feel anything and hard to stop once they set their intent to kill something.

The officials manage to take out the metal tool protruding from Jongin’s abdomen without bleeding him to a temporary death. Right when they’re done, I rush back to his side. This time, when I take his hand, his eyelids open. Jongin presses his free hand into his stomach and groans. I wince.

“Daeun?” He asks in weak voice.

“Yeah?”

“This was one of my favorite shirts, and now it has a hole in it.” 

Dumbfounded, my immediate reaction is to laugh. “Idiot, I’ll get you a new, even better one.”

A small smile forms on his face. “Then I have nothing to worry about.

_

The next few days, I keep an eye on Jongin and his recovery. He’s able to move around, but other than that, he can’t do much. If the object that had pierced his stomach had been just a normal thing, Jongin would be completely healed by now. But the tip of the steel stake had purposefully been dipped into a toxin that was created to maim vampires, but is completely safe for humans to use. The bullets issued to members of the SHC are coated in it. It’s very potent, and with that much flesh exposed to it, Jongin won’t be able to do strenuous activities for a while.

Honestly, I think he enjoys the attention I give him because every time he asks me for a ridiculous favor, like staying by his side until he falls asleep, and I say no, he’ll beg and use his injury as an excuse. Unfortunately for me, that’s all it takes and I give in. 

After dropping by the agency to pick up Jongin’s weekly supply of blood, I head to the grocery store where I run into Kris looking through the cereal aisle. A dark haired boy a little shorter than he is, stands by and converses with him in Chinese. 

“Daeun!” Kris says with a smile as he sees me. “I thought I smelled you.” 

I laugh. “Hey. What’s up?”  

He shrugs and turns back to the vast selection of cereal. “In all my life, I have never seen so much boxes of cereal in one place.”

“Sounds like you don’t eat it often. Why are you here?”

“Tao likes it, but he can’t decide between two of them.” Kris motions towards the boy behind him. “I found him and realized

that he was also a Division I.”

“Still recruiting like always.” I say. “Buy both of them for him.”

“Why does he need two, though?” 

“Why can he not have two?” Picking up the boxes I noticed Tao was contemplating over, I throw them at Kris. “Come on. The least you can do, is get him two boxes of cereal.”

When he’s finished sighing and muttering that ‘it’s not necessary to buy multiple brands of cereal’, Kris asks, “How’s Jongin?”

“Better. Still under house arrest, though.” I reply, exhaling a long breath of air. “I’m just here to pick up something already made to eat because he claims he can’t digest human food at the moment. So I don’t have to cook.”

“Ah, lucky you. Well, see you at work soon.” Kris says as he begins to walk away.

“Bye, you two.” Before they turn the corner, Tao looks back and waves shyly.

I realize I’m not all that hungry. For some reason, it’s been like that lately. I even catch myself staring up at my ceiling for hours when I’m supposed to be sleeping. So I settle on an apple, and “splurge” on a bag of chips, and there’s my dinner. Not much, but I really don’t care.

I arrive back at home and immediately stock the blood bags into the top right shelf of the fridge. Washing off the apple and opening the plastic bag of chips, I settle into the couch and switch the TV on. Jongin saunters in and sits on the ground, leaning against my legs for his backrest. 

“What took you so long? I was bored out of mind.” He whines sleepily.

“Well, I’m sorry I have things to do other than stay home and entertain you.” I scoff. 

I take another bite out of my apple before crinkling my nose at the stench of alcohol. “Jongin were you,” I pause. “Were you drinking?” 

“No.” He answers too quickly, and I see right through his lie. I grasp his collar and gently turn him around to face me. 

“You never drink. Unless,” I scan him, notice a tiny dark spot near his stomach on his olive green shirt. “Unless you’re in pain. Jongin are you bleeding?”

“I’m not. Stop worrying.” He turns back to face the TV. “Even though you’re cute when you worry.” 

“Take it off, Jongin. Take off your shirt.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“That’s not a valid reason-”

Without his consent, I lift up his shirt to reveal the bandages wrapped around his torso. They look new, but fresh blood still seeps through it. He tries to pull his shirt back down and I slap his hands away. Unwrapping the gauze, it reveals a festering, infected wound. It’s not something that just happened; it’s been going on for days.

“You were just going to let it continue getting infected? Are you crazy? You knew that something poisonous to vampires was in your system.” I lift a hand to his forehead and wince at the feverish heat emanating from his skin. “And you have a fever. God, Jongin why didn’t tell me?” 

He follows me into his room after my consent and I force him to lay on the bed. “I thought that if I kept changing the bandages, and drank something for the pain, it would eventually heal itself.” Jongin mumbles as he settles onto the mattress.

“Did it get better?” I ask as I bring out a variety of first aid. 

“Well, no.” 

“Mhm.” I pour rubbing alcohol on a clean cloth and gently wash down the injury. He groans and shuts his eyes. “That’s your fault.” I mutter, no sympathy whatsoever in my voice.

While I fix him up, he stays quiet, yelping every so often, but not saying a word until he breathes a sigh of relief when I finish placing the last strip of gauze over the gaping wound. I bring a bowl of ice water and soak a small washcloth in it to place on his forehead. When it touches his skin, he shivers and exhales a content sigh.

“What am I going to do with you?” I ask more to myself than to him.

He chuckles, the sound a deep, amused rumbling in his chest. “Will you stay here with me until I get better?”

“Of course.” I say, holding his hand to my cheek the way he does to me.

“I should be sick more often.” 

“Why’s that?”

“Because I get to have an excuse to see you when all your walls are down.”

Before I have the chance to say anything, he drifts off to sleep with a smile splayed across his lips.