Phases of the Moon

Ahn Jae-Hyeon x Yona

        It was a long night, illuminated by the soft glow of a rising moon when he first caught a glimpse of her black hair. Her skin was as pale as the backdrop of the moon and brightened her face like a soft hue of light in a dark night.

        He had seen her when he was a child, as her pale skin caught his eye as she balanced on the railings of his balcony. The glass of his door separated them, but as he peeked out from his blankets and watched as she crouched down on the railings that he never dared to touch. They were weak and would fall apart at his weight, and yet she crouched against them as if they were new.

        By the time he gathered the confidence to move aside his blankets and approach, her head whipped towards him as if he had made a loud crash of noise instead of his action to remove a blanket.

        For years to come, he would never forget her hauntingly red eyes, staring daggers right through him. He would never forget the pale-ness of her lips, contrasted with the smear of dripping red from her bottom lip to her chin.

        In years to come, he would remember her haunting smirk before she disappeared like a breeze of wind, floating through the night sky.

        Even when his vision failed and all else faded into darkness of an endless void of black, he would remember her eyes, ruby red like that of freshly spilled blood.

 

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            “You are going to be fine Jae-Hyeon.”

 

            “Nothing bad is going to happen to you.”

 

            “Mommy is going to protect you.”

 

            “You have a degenerative disease.“

 

            “You’re going to get better.”

 

            “I promise.”

 

            “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

 

            “If you pray with mommy, you will get better.”

 

●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

 

            Jae-Hyeon turned his gaze slowly towards the girl who he once again heard jump onto his balcony railings that his broken body laid weakly against. His vision was weak, but he could catch the ruby of her lips within any passing sunset.  He knew that she probably didn’t care to notice his presence, but her bright red eyes turned to meet his, her expression blank as she tilted her head as she took in his weakened form, slumped against the metal railings of the balcony.

 

             She knelt down to face him as the railings slightly squeaked as she pressed her hands against the metal and her leg, once draped in a snow white dress, slowly revealed an equally pale leg that parted from the silk like material that hung loosely around her form. Her lips were pursed, as if she were surprised that he was even there, and yet her closing form continued as if it were the most natural action in the world.

 

            For a split second, a fleeting moment, Jae-Hyeon began to feel like a predator was descending onto his weakening, 10 year old self.

 

            She didn’t speak, and in that moment, Jae-Hyeon wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that she didn’t know how to speak. Her movements and her eyes seemed animalistic, but in that very same moment of fear, her body straightened as her feet landed, soundlessly, onto the cement balcony ground. She was poise and her lips drew down in an almost disgusted frown.

 

            Her face was elegant and small, and he was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. She couldn’t have been more than 20 years old, the very same age of his own mother, and yet her eyes held a childlike touch that silenced his fear by the time she crawled in front of him.

 

            Her black hair seemed darker than the night sky, and long thick locks dragged against the ground without any care.

 

            The fear came coursing through him as her face neared his neck. The fear was potent in the air, and he was too tired and weak to move. She froze like ice when she pressed her cheek against his raising pulse over his neck.

 

            It was her harsh whisper that caused his heart to harden.

 

            “Death is near for you, boy,” it was the first words he ever heard the mysterious woman utter. But the truth clouded out the opinions of the liars.

 

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            The night he turned fifteen was the longest one to date. His body ached with pain in the darkness. Focusing on colors he was once able to see no longer brought him any comfort after his mother passed away and his father became unable to stand in the same room with the son that drove his own mother into the grave.

 

            He remembered the smell of honey on ice cream and his mother’s smile when she handed him a spoon from behind her back with a smile that now flickered into blackness.

 

            He could now only sit on a wheelchair he was too weak to move and stare out a window he was too blind to see.  His eyes would dart blankly around the room with their milky and unfocused gaze.

 

            There were no sounds to be heard and the outside world was a silent blur. For a moment, despite the darkness of his vision, he saw the blood red and sharp gaze of a dark haired girl.

 

            Her eyes shot through him and his heart hammered in his chest with the desire to reach out for her and have her grab his hand. He heard the creek of a window opening, and he almost wished she would wheel his light body off the roof of the high apartment.

 

            His fingers twitched as he felt her fingers brush against the back of his hand with so soft a motion that he almost couldn’t feel it.

 

            It was her whisper that broke him away from the night. “Do you wish to die?”

 

            It wasn’t harsh, and almost sounded vaguely kind in a way he had forgotten people could be. It wasn’t demanding or full of pity. It wasn’t forced or cold. It was almost warm, and his unsteadying and blank gaze landed on the spot he assumed she stood.

 

            His voice was hoarse, unused and strained, but he forced himself to speak.

 

            “I…don’t…want to die,” he wasn’t even entirely certain that was true and he felt her fingers brush over his cheek and hover over his eyes.

 

            “Death is certain,” she didn’t sound cold, and he leaned into the warmth of her hand that pressed against his eyes.

 

            He didn’t respond for lack of an answer, but slowly her hand removed from his eyes and the chill of the wind out the open window hit him tenfold. Though his sight was stricken in black, his memory surfaced her eyes and her ruby red lips, barely visibly through thick, waving black hair.

 

            “No one will save you,” she whispered, her voice light and carefree.

 

            He couldn’t answer.

 

            “You will die.”

 

            Nothing she said were stricken in lies like many people liked to utter before him, and before he would have done anything to hear the truth from anyone’s lips. But hearing of his oncoming death with such cold certainty, his breath hitched fearfully in his throat.

 

            “Death isn’t so bad…sometimes,” she said it slowly, and for a moment he wanted to shout at her. This stranger who didn’t know him or his condition. He wanted to scream until his lungs were raw and his face was red.

 

            He wanted to cry that it wasn’t fair, but instead he just sat there, a 15 year old boy who couldn’t move.

 

            …siting next to a stranger who had no name.

 

            And yet, somehow, she was his anchor. As strange and unexpected as it was….she was his only anchor to himself.

 

            She dove inside him and picked apart emotions that had hardened to stone. She melted them one by one and left a mess behind.

 

            “But you won’t die yet,” she finished, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

 

●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

 

            It was the night of his 19^th birthday when he finally saw her again. The moon hung heavy in the sky and the night smelt earthy, with the residue of oncoming rain in the night sky. His eyes were closed and his lips were nearly blue as his body lay slumped in his bed. It had been many nights that he had found himself unable to move his arms.

 

            His sight was black and all he could do was hear the outside world. He could hear it as clearly as one could see it, but nights were always long and uneventful. And yet his heart shot into his throat as he heard the bed sink from next to him. He could smell the distinct scent of fresh mint and it lingered in his nose as he felt her ear press against his chest. He wanted to speak, but his throat and tongue wouldn’t move.

 

            “You’ve been strong,” she murmured it, as she pulled the blanket to his waist. “And they leave you to die like a dog?”

 

            He could heart the beeping of his heart monitor skyrocket as her lips pressed against his neck.

 

            “Do you want to see?” She asked, so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her and wouldn’t have if her lips weren’t so close to his ear. “To stand? To laugh? To speak?”

 

            She laughed, the sound was cold and if he were less numb, it would have no doubt made him shiver.

 

            “I can make you feel alive,” she whispered. His fingers twitched when her teeth shot through the sensitive skin of his neck in so hard a manner than his lips opened and let out a soundless moan.

 

            The pain lasted a lifetime before her tongue ran over the wound in so sweet a way that his heart thumped in irregular beats and caused his fingers to fall silent at his side.

 

            For all intensive purposes, he was already dead anyway.

 

●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

 

            Yona was born in a small village off the coast of Thailand when she was first exposed to the plagues of man. She was only eleven when her body was ravaged by a drunken sailor and left to rot on a lakeside. She was only eleven when she was taken in by a pale woman who raised her for six more years before her life was forfeit once more.

 

            Her lips were tainted in the blood of the boy who trusted her and her form was crouched on top of an uncomfortable wooden chair and overlooking the midnight moon. Blood dripped from her lips to her chin to her pale knees, but she still felt no need to wipe it away.

 

            Yona’s eyes darted back to Jae-Hyeon, his body quivering under blanket after blanket, without any sign of warming up. She contemplated, a couple times, just smothering his last breath in a pillow, but ultimately decided to keep her place. It had been hours since he last opened his eyes, and she began to muse the idea that she had just killed the boy she had watched grow up.

 

            She shook her head, wiping the blood off her chin with the back of her hand before hiding her face into her knees. When she heard the sound of his weakened moans, she appeared in front of him like a shadow moving through the darkness. For a mere moment, his eyes opened, but his gaze was as empty and blank as a man who was blind.

 

            They closed moments later and her lips pressed tightly together as her head fell to the side.

 

            It wasn’t for another couple hours that his eyes snapped open and his body pivoted with such force that she contemplated holding him down. His gaze snapped to her, and she immediately noticed that his once milky gaze was a clear molten brown.

 

            “What…did you do to me?” He asked, his voice raspy and hoarse.

 

            “A gift…it’s a gift,” she wasn’t entirely certain she believed her own words, but his uncertain and shifty gaze made her lips part in lies.

 

            His face glistened in sweat and she placed her cold palm against his forehead, wiping away the stray bits of hair. He looked unsteady and confused, but his head instinctively pressed into her flat palm as he relished the feeling of her ice-cold skin.

 

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            When Jae-Hyeon opened his eyes again, he was far less emotional as he stared blankly to the dark haired girl who gazed blankly out the window. His newly changed eyes absorbed her in through every last drop from the silky white legs to her pure white dress that reached her knees. His neck burned from her lips and tongue, and he instantly found that he was able to move his arm to place his palm against his neck.

 

            His heart hammered in his chest as he found himself able to move his feet, and when he went to glance towards the mysterious woman sitting by the window, he found her face centimeters in front of him with the pale full moon hovering in the background.

 

            His throat burned and when his hands twitched to tear out his windpipe, finding them able to move, she gripped his wrist. Her lips were pulled into a not so innocent smile, and he was slowly able to see the dark red eyes once more. He wanted to say so much, but his tongue would not obey and his throat’s burn would not cease.

 

            She didn’t speak, and he gingerly noticed her fingers, cold against his skin, still wrapped firmly around his wrist.

 

            He wanted to pull away or pull her closer, but he hadn’t the ability to do either. It was only in that moment that she spoke, her voice a soft melody that cut through him with quick certainty. “Did you wish you were dead?”

 

            Her lips pulled into a hollow smirk.

 

            “Live…I want to live.” He said, forcing out the words as he stared at her fingers that stayed wrapped around his wrist.

 

            “No. You want to walk, to speak, to move and be free. You don’t need to live to do that,” she said simply.

 

            “I don’t…understand.”

 

            Her top lip curled back, revealing the extending canines that had begun to grow from her gums and push back all the rest of her teeth. Her tongue, dark and red, across the tip of her sharp teeth, drawing blood across the bright white tooth.

 

            Jae-Hyeon’s heart began to beat so fast that he could hear the melody of its palpitation settle in his ears. His words darted away from him in some hollow corner that he couldn’t reach. Her lips settled in another smirk, hearing his racing heartbeat all too well.

 

            “Do I scare you?” She asked, and he tried to rip his wrist from his grasp, but found his body had grown considerably weaker and her grip was much too strong. She leaned in, her eyes bright and boring into his eyes. The moment her lips hovered over his, her other hand ran up his chest in a way that burned him and yet nothing ever made him feel more alive. He could feel her cold hands through the thick articles of clothing as if she were a giant block of ice. “Good.”

 

            He couldn’t look away from her eyes, and his drumming heart slowed as he saw her once hardened gaze soften and melt down like molten honey. He could almost taste the sweet fragrance of her lips as her black hair fell over her shoulders and traced his cheeks on both sides.

 

            Slowly her fingers released his wrist and traced up his arm until resting against his pulsing neck. Her lips settled into a warm smile. “You blood calls to me…you are quite the tease.” She her lips and her nose brushed against his.

 

            She closed her eyes and rested her head against his chest and he slowly watched as her head stayed still. It didn’t move slowly up and down. It was still.

 

            In that moment he realized he wasn’t breathing.

 

●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

 

            “What did you do to me?” Yona looked away from the window as she watched Jae-Hyeon crumble to the ground in his attempt to stand. His voice had successfully broken her from her dream state.

 

            She appeared next to him in a hazy blur and her arms crossed over her knees when she crouched down and watched him struggle to stand.

 

            “I am so…thirsty…” His voice was horrified, and his eyes narrowed when her lips pulled into a thin smile. “I don’t want water or soju or…I don’t…” He held his head, coming to a stand and pressing his back against the wall for support.

 

            “Transiting is hard,” she agreed as she stood up and walked forward until she once more broke his personal bubble. He was beginning to think she didn’t know the meaning of personal space, and yet his body was in her control as his fingers twitched to touch her. “What would you like me to do about it?”

 

            The look of her sadistic smile made all desire to touch her drift away. “Cripple you again? Bring you the blood of a ?”

 

            The murmur of blood made his throat burn and he crumbled at her feet, watching as she slowly crouched down next to him.

 

            Her fingers trailed heatedly against his jaw and her lips pulled into a calm smile as she used her other hand to slit a trail of blood against her wrist. The moment the blood dripped down her milky white skin and against his white button up blouse, his senses controlled him and he gripped her arm in a lock and trailed his lips over the wound.

 

            It was like medicine, and nothing had ever tasted so sweet. When his eyes trailed back to hers, he found the sarcastic smile was nowhere in sight.

 

            By the time he was finished and her wound closed before his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall and let the shame overcrowd him. Her lips pressed against his chin, striking him out of his pitiful state and causing his eyes to widen as her lips trailed over his skin and cleaned every trace that her blood had ever stained it.

 

            By the time she separated and her eyes met his, his body called out to him to kiss her. To feel her lips against his, but no such thing would come to pass as she placed her pointer finger against his lips and held him back.

 

            He barely managed to blink his eyes before she was back on her chair and staring out the window. It was only the taste of her blood in his mouth, warm and sweet like honey, that let him know she was there at all.

 

●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

 

            The sun hurt his eyes and burned his skin.

 

            He noticed this rather quickly, and his dreams of walking through the park and lying in the grass and letting the sun cook into his flesh quickly faded. The memories of him doing so as a child became taunts of things he’d never again experience.

 

            “What you’re doing is pointless,” Yona’s voice was cold, as usual, and her form was sitting on a particularly thick branch as he laid against the shadow of the tree, watching the rays of sunlight hit against tanned flesh.

 

            “Isn’t our existence pointless?” He asked, hoping to hurt her feelings, but he was quickly learning that doing so was useless.

 

            “Would you rather die?”

 

            “Not particularly,” he murmured, tossing a rock lightly so it hit a passing kid’s leg, causing him to trip on his face. Jae-Hyeon’s head tilted to the side as the boy’s head darted around, his eyes missing the culprit.

 

            He heard Yona’s scoff from over his shoulder, he glanced towards her, watching her legs dangle over the branch while she dangled over the tree in mid air. He turned his head towards her, running his fingers over her face and tracing his thumb over her bottom lips. The emptiness of her gaze made him sigh.

 

            “Are you hungry?”

 

            “No.” He answered, much to quickly.

 

            She smirked and appeared in a crouched position before him, pressing her pointer finger against her lips. “Liars don’t get rewards.” She crawled forward, her lips brushing over his ear. “How about that blood of a ?”

            

            He felt a twinge of hatred for her when she separated and disappeared before his eyes. He barely had the power to resist the hunger as he snarled over to the happily playing kids while he slipped back further in the shadows.

 

●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

 

            He didn’t realize he was following her until she turned towards him and called him out. She was attractive, he supposed, and after denying her acquisitions that he was a stalker, she laughed.

 

            She said he was pretty, and seemed flustered when he would smile. It was strange talking to someone who wasn’t Yona, and he almost forgot that girls could even blush or laugh. When she spoke, asking him about his family, he had almost forgot girls could care to ask.

 

            It was at the end of the night when he realized it had been a date. She kissed his cheek and smiled, her cheeks rosy with color that made his heart beat a moment faster. It didn’t make him feel sick or cause him to lose pacing as with Yona. It was a diluted feeling that didn’t make his throat and heart burn.

 

            She was kind. Jiyeon. She was beautiful. Her hair was short, unlike Yona’s uncontrolled locks that felt like silk in between his fingers.

 

            Jiyeon wasn’t as forward as Yona, and respected personal space. She made him smile, while Yona mostly made him frown.

 

            She was bright and sunny. When she kissed him, her lips felt like the sun. They were warm. She didn’t leave a taste in his mouth and her floral scent didn’t compare to the molten honey of Yona.

 

            It was only on the twelfth night that he realized he couldn’t help but compare the two.

 

            The thirteenth night never came.

 

●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

 

            Jae-Hyeon was selfish. Being able to walk wasn’t enough for him. Being able to see only the darkness wasn’t much different from being blind. Being able to speak, and only speak to Yona, was empty.

 

            He was a monster.

 

            And the proof of that was lying down, lifeless at his feet as he fell onto his backside, the aftermath of splatter blood rested over his hands. He couldn’t look away from the dead eyes that pierced him from below.

 

            The worst part was…he was still hungry. Even after drinking every last drop from her skin. Even after ripping more holes in her body, looking for more, he was still so hungry. It was insatiable.

 

            He wanted to tear her hands away when he felt Yona’s fingers press against his face and force him to stare into her eyes.

 

            “I'm a monster.” He said slowly as she traced her thumb against his chin and wiped the blood away from his lips.

 

            “Yes.” She didn’t sugarcoat it, and her answer made his heart crack. “But only if you choose to be.” She stood up, and walked towards the dead body, using her foot to kick the body on its back. Her actions, so harsh, caused his heart to erupt in anger that he kept tapped. She made a tisking noise as she turned her head back towards him from over her shoulder. “Pretty girl. I can see how she got your attention with those full lips and big brown eyes.”

 

            “Shut up,” he barely had the will to snap, but her actions fueled into him like fire.

 

            “She’s very pretty,” Yona mused, using her foot to move the dead Jiyeon’s face. “I can see now why you chose her over me. Not that it matters now.”

 

            Yona’s laugh cause a fiery rage to plague his heart as he shoved the girl into the wall, his fingers wrapped around her neck.

 

            “Do you feel that?” She looked so tiny from under his fingers, and her eyes almost soft. All trace of laughter and cruelty disappeared from her gaze until there was nothing. “Anger. It's the only thing that will chase away the guilt.”

 

            The fire that once fueled him disappeared until all he could see was her. He slumped against her shoulder, trailing blood over her white dress.

 

            “Hate me if you want,” Yona’s voice was poison.

 

            But he absorbed every ounce of it, as if it were medicine.

 

●▬Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ▬●

 

            “Are you going to starve yourself then?” Yona’s voice broke through the walls in his head and her lips traced against his temple.

 

            “Would you care?” He asked, and felt her fingers dig into his neck, forcing his gaze to meet hers.

 

            “Do you think it is easy to turn a human?” She asked, and he shrugged. “It’s draining. Why do you think I changed you?”

 

            “You were bored,” he muttered, and his fingers twitched when she trailed kisses up his jaw and to his ear.

 

            “I care more than you think,” she whispered, using her nail to cut along her neck. He watched the blood drip down her neck. It didn’t smell as much like iron as Jiyeon’s had, but it lulled him the same. “The more you starve, the lonelier I get.”

 

            His eyes snapped to hers and his heart beat like a drum in his chest. His lips slowly trailed over her neck, missing the blood at first as he kissed the soft and pale skin. Her fingers curled around his back, as her other hand ran through his hair.

 

            He slowly drank her in, and he finally heard the palpitation of her heart, slower than a normal human, but in his ears it was faster than he had ever heard it.

 

            He trailed his lips up her jaw, and she didn’t stop him when his lips met hers. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he trapped her face in between his palms.

 

            It was only when her back hit the ground and his body fell on top of hers that he rested his head against her chest. Her hair felt like silk threads when he ran his fingers through them, and the lull of her heart tore the self-hatred away.