Gosh, it's been so long. Almost a full year since I updated this. I've had this chapter sitting in my word documents and simply never finished it ... I was a mixture of busy and just overall bad at managing my time. I am so sorry, friends. I hope to do better. Pelase enjoy this chapter.

Chaeri doesn’t know what to think. He’s correct – she is his ex-girlfriend – but who is this fickle girl standing by him, cowering behind his wide shoulders, shuddering as though the night really were that cold?

Chaeri doesn’t understand why this woman could possibly enrapture Sehun; and yet the more she stares at the girl’s golden skin and caramel hair – which is so unlike Chaeri’s marble white sheen and inky blue mane - the more it dawns on her.

The girl is nothing like Chaeri.

Chaeri lingers on Sehun’s hand, which is tightly wrapped around the other girl’s. She remembers how warm it used to be, how safe it had made her feel. While Sehun’s touch made Chaeri weak, it seems that to this girl, his touch makes her strong. That’s the difference between the two of them. That’s the vast rift that separates Chaeri from a girl so seemingly flimsy.

But this knowledge isn’t enough to prevent her from wanting to irritate Sehun. “Your jacket suits you.” She smiles nostalgically. “Isn’t that the one I bought you after our third date?”

“I don’t remember,” Sehun responds cryptically. “Come on Nana. Let’s go.”

So that’s her name. “I’m surprised you actually replied to that.”

Sehun pauses to stare flatly at her. “Why are you here?”

“For the same reason you are.”

“I’m here to do something for someone, Chaeri.” Chaeri. She forgot how fragile her name sounded between his lips. That was one of her favorite things about him. The thought that he could break her with a click of his tongue. “I doubt you can say the same thing for yourself.”

“Who knew you could be so harsh?” She laughs. Honestly, it hurts, but she won’t let him see that. “Why couldn’t you be this honest to me when we were together?”

“You know the answer to that.”

She looks away before he can see the guilt in her eyes. Nothing escapes his eyes, not even the memories she thought she had forgotten.

“I’ll talk to you later, Chaeri.” He brushes by her as if she were an old, flaccid tree in the middle of verdant fields, undeserving of any regard.

“I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t know where those words come from. She is certain she has never apologized – not just to him, but also to anyone. He must realize the anomaly, as well, because he stops before passing by. He’s right beside her now, and she can smell the scent of his blood and the fading smell of cologne. It’s the same as before. Even the way he tightens his grip on the girl’s is the same – thumb first, and then the rest of his fingers follow.

“Thank you.”

And then he’s gone, leaving her in the same exact way she had left him.

Nana doesn’t say anything, but Sehun knows that she is curious. He can imagine what she must be asking. A girlfriend? What happened to their relationship? What was that woman apologizing for? Sehun made up his mind that he was going to be more transparent with her, but that woman was a story for a different time. Right now, Sehun had to focus on the present.

Nana recognizes the building. After all, she did come here multiple times to speak to the Tender about Sehun. She was never interested in the club, however, which is where Sehun had taken her. He leads her through the pulse of dancing bodies, easily gliding in between people. He is still holding her hand, and despite the warmth that coats the air in a pressing wave, his touch is frigid. For a moment, her hand fumbles out of his grip; and then he grabs it again, never missing a beat.

“Stay with me,” he says, and then they are out of the club and into the bar. The door shuts behind them in a quiet swing, trapping the rhythm that shook the ground.

“I’ve been here before,” Nana says, mostly just to say something.

“I wanted to show you that some nightmares are harder to see.” He pulls out a chair for her at an empty table. He finally releases her hand, and she rubs her hands together for warmth. “You’re cold?”

“It’s just … your hands,” she admits. “Are you okay? Are you sick?”

Sehun snorts. “That’s not possible for me.”

“Oh.”

Sehun raises his hand, and a bar tender approaches the table. Sehun orders a drink, but Nana shakes her head when he asks her. He leans back and regards her carefully. She shifts uncomfortably beneath his turbulent gaze, rubbing her hands together all the while.

“Your ex-girlfriend … she was nice.”

“You can be honest, you know,” Sehun responds. “I know she isn’t.”

Nana stares at the table, far too fascinated in a stain than in their conversation.

“Nana.”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

She raises her head, and for the first time since she had met him, Sehun smiles. The storm within his eyes subsides, leaving behind a calm Nana didn’t know existed.

“You’re incredibly brave.”

“Not at all,” she denies, blushing. She doesn’t believe him, yet his eyes reflect honesty. Perhaps he is right. Perhaps she truly is brave.

“I brought you to the lion’s den,” Sehun gestures to the bar. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for you to be here?”

Her brows knit together as charcoal clouds return to his eyes. “As dangerous as a club can be, I suppose.”

“Dozens of people come in here every night, completely Changed by the end of the day. You’re lucky no one spoke to you when you were here drinking.”

He doesn’t say it, but she knows what he means. You’re lucky I found you when I did.

“This is the nightmare I was talking about,” Sehun explains. “This is hell.”

Nana looks around her, but all she sees are normal faces on normal people. There are no monsters lurking in the shadows, no creatures hanging from the ceiling. There is only darkness so thick that it seems to coat the entire room in a suffocating embrace. She looks back at Sehun, who reflects that same suffocation in his eyes, his spine, in his fingers that had so tightly wound around hers.

And she realizes that monsters can be achingly beautiful.

“There are others like you here, aren’t there?” She suspects. She always knew Sehun was different, although in what way, she was about to discover. He wasn’t simply a suicidal man with a fondness for poetry. He wasn’t a man at all.

“Most of them are in the club,” He answers. “They rarely come into the bar. They don’t need to, not when they can feed as much as they want in there.”

Feed. As though They were cannibals. As though people were food. As though They couldn’t help themselves.

“What about you?”

“That’s why I take those pills,” Sehun says. “They aren’t just to prepare myself for the inevitable. They’re to satisfy me. I have cravings, too.” He assesses her like he would a lost animal. Vulnerable. Unprotected. But then he swallows, and the nearly feline look in his pupils recede. “But I don’t act on them.”

Nana’s heart is beating so loudly, but she presses on. “And those pills. They’re sufficient?”

“They’re nothing like the real thing, no.”

“Then why not do what they do? Why not … feed,” she chokes, “like they do?”

A mirthless smile stretches his lips. “You wouldn’t want me to do that.”

She swallows. is dry. Her palms are sweating. “What happened to you?” Her question hangs between them, a whisper so delicate that with a simple turn of topic, it could easily be swept away. But he reaches out, latching onto it with a confession.

“I was turned, just like them. Ten years ago, by a woman I loved very much. I didn’t know what she was. I just knew she had a penchant for trouble. And then one day, on the eve of our two-year anniversary, she turned me. I didn’t see her again for years.”

“Until recently,” Nana presumes. Sehun is mildly shocked. He opens his mouth to respond, but she shakes her head. “That woman by the door. That was her, wasn’t it? I can get that much, Sehun. Things don’t have to be written plainly for me to understand.” Nana purses her lips. “She’s beautiful.”

“I know. And I fell for her. She left me, and then I knew she never loved me.”

There was so much anger laced in his words, so much bitterness and regret that she could feel it, feel the way it cut into him like a blade. She could only imagine what he felt when he woke to realize she wasn’t there. That she had left him - alone, heartbroken and eternally Changed.

“I’m sorry.”

Why did she say that? What did she have to be sorry for?

“It’s not your fault,” he responds, frustrating Nana even more. Stupid. So stupid. Was that all she could say?

“I’m sorry that I’m so – shoot. I’m sorry. I mean … crap. Never mind.” She rubs her eyes, exasperated. How foolish can she be?

“It’s okay, Nana. It really is. She apologized. You heard that, right? She said she was sorry.”

“That’s all it takes?” Nana asks. “You love her for two years, only to discover she never loved you back. And then she Changes you, makes you a completely different person, and then leaves you without an explanation, without care, anything. And after ten whole years you see her again, and she says sorry, and you just … accept it? Why?”

“What good would it do if I didn’t? I’d be in the same exact place, Nana. Nothing would change. And when people change and you are the only one who doesn’t, time becomes more tedious than inexhaustible. You need change to break things up. You need change to keep yourself sane.”

That’s what she had done too, hadn’t it? She had dated a man she never would have dated had she been content. But she needed change. She needed a wrinkle in an otherwise perfect timeline.

“Do you still love her?” Her voice is small, afraid. Afraid of a different kind of change. Afraid of a change that hurt.

“No.”

“Good.” Nana surprises herself by responding the way she does. She notices that even Sehun’s eyes light up in curiosity. “I mean,” she adds, flustered, “I didn’t want it to come out like that – “

“You’re saying you’re interested in me,” Sehun smiles, for the second time this night. “Is that it?”

She breathes in deeply, making sure to count the seconds. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. She breathes out. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t take teasing very well.”

“I know.” Sehun responds. “But seeing you like this, it makes me want to … “ he trails off, turns away. Makes him want to do what? Nana blushes at the possibility. “So?” He continues. “What else do you want to ask me?”

“Can I ask anything?”

“I do request a small compensation for my services.”

Nana rolls her eyes, causing Sehun to laugh. She doesn’t think she has ever heard him laugh before. What a strange night, indeed; a night filled with secrets and transparency. She smiles.

“You can ask me anything, too. You know that, right?”

How Sehun wishes he could kiss her, then bite her neck. It would be so easy to reach forward, caress that perfect face of hers, impress kisses upon her lips, and then sink his teeth into her skin. No. Sehun clenches his fists. Where are his pills? He turns his pockets inside out, growing desperate as the seconds tick by and his hunger grows. Nana reaches forward, placing a comforting hand on his back.

“What’s wrong?”

He scowls, and that is all it takes for her to pull away and for him to come back to his senses. It’s impossible. This relationship is impossible. If he continues as he is, he is only going to hurt her, and want to hurt her. The only way out is to die. He has to die, before any more strings tie him to this godforsaken place.

How foolish of him to romanticize reality.

“Get away from me.”

“Sehun. What’s wrong? Tell me, please,” she pleads. Her fingers are shaking, yet she has not run away. “Please.”

“Go away, Nana,” Sehun begs, his voice hoarse. God, the hunger is excruciating, as though there are fists banging on the insides of his stomach, as though there are stakes being driven over and over into his head. Why is it so unbearable? It hasn’t been that long since he last took pills. Perhaps because he fell out of his routine, his body is punishing him. This must be retribution, for allowing himself to think that happiness could exist within a world void of it.

“I’m not moving.”

“If you stay right here, I am going to feed on you.” He finally looks at her, and what Nana sees are eyes that are ablaze with a rich, red film. Monster. She can’t help but think it. And she knows, the moment that word invades her mind, he thinks it, too.

But she can’t have him think that of himself. She can’t have him go to a place so dark and so deep that nothing, not even the brightest of lights, can save him. So with another deep breath and five seconds screaming at her to change her mind, she says the only thing she knows will help him. After all, there is a monster inside of her, too.

“Then feed on me.”