“Shadow fighters – like their names – weren’t human to begin with. They were just shells of mutants with strength and speed to kill. It should have been illegal, but Byakko continued with the project despite of several protests from different countries. In the end, their efforts were in vain. After all, they needed Byakko’s weapon supply to support their military.”

Book of Lunar Eclipse, 1995, J.J.

(13)

                  I strode into the room shamelessly and took a seat next to Sehun. It was rather uncomfortable having to sit next to someone who might or might not be mad at me at the moment. But Oh Sehun – as always – had never been a predictable figure. He was unfazed, as if our fights had never happened at all.

                  “How long have you been here?” I turned to Sehun and asked him first.

                  “About an hour or so, just in time for the last checkup,” He replied courtly, a bit too careful with his words. “The nurse came in to put the bandage on his bloodied body. He’d be fine in a day or two.”

                  “I see.”

                  “And you’re finally awake,” I turned to Jongin and almost sighed in relief. He lied down on the bed with a bandage soaked in blood in his arms and ribcage. One inch higher and it would have hit something vital. I supposed those shots were aimed for me, but Kim Jongin graciously took it.

                  “As you can see,” Jongin snickered and turned sideways. His eyes were casted on the ceiling, void of emotion and still, “I heard from Sehun you refused to eat while I was in the surgery. What is that? Some pity party for having to take the bullets for you?”

                  Usually, I would have been angry. I would throw tantrum and argued with him. But for some reason, I couldn’t do it today. I turned to Sehun and pleadingly looked at him with the last shred of my dignity, “Sehun, could you leave us alone, please? I need to talk to Jongin in utmost secrecy.”

                  Sehun nodded wordlessly and immediately got up from his seat. He reached out to squeeze my hands and left like that. Perhaps it was his way of amending what was wrong – not that I’d mind anyway. We weren’t so immature to be stuck on anger towards each other. I went up to lock the door.

                  “What was it this time?” Jongin lazily asked, “Are you going to accuse me of another conspiracy theory, Princess?”

                  I strode over like a marching bull and jumped onto the comfortable thick bed as I watched him wince in pain at the sudden movement. I smirked in satisfaction when he tried to move away from me, as if I was some sort of plague or unlucky charm. “Conspiracy theory? Not this time, unless you could enlighten me more about it.”

                  “Princess, I am injured, not disabled. I can still move, you know,” Jongin scowled and sat up. I helped him puffed up the pillow so he could sit comfortably. I didn’t try to touch his bandage, but I lifted up the light blue top and shook my head in disapproval. He was wounded up very badly, and even with the surgery and stitches, it was still bleeding.

                  “Aren’t you going to change it? It’s soaked, for goodness’ sake! Should I call the nurse for you?” I frowned. Jongin pressed his lips into a thin, pale line and raised his eyebrows at me. He didn’t seem so amused, “Is this some sort of repayment from you? Because if it is, you can forget it and go. I don’t need it.”  

                  No doubt my sudden change in attitude had surprised him. I pulled away and smiled softly, “This is not pity or gratitude. I am just checking to see if you are dead or alive. After all, you are the one who wanted to kill me, so I’d be glad for either one. Alive, you’ll still serve me. Dead, I’ll have one less person to worry about.”

                  Stupid mouth. That was very insensitive. Before I could take back what I said, Kim Jongin had thrown his head to the bedpost and laughed so carelessly, albeit the pain he felt on his stomach. I loved the way his lips turned upwards into a wickedly enchanting grin and the sound he made when he snorted and laughed out loud, despite of the sarcasm he had behind that laughter.

                  “So why, Jongin?” I was still smiling. My heartbeat increased in anticipation. “Why did you take those bullets for me when you could’ve easily saved yourself? Why save me if you want me dead?”

                  Jongin’s laughter died down as he stared at me in silence. For a minute, he looked as though he had a lot of things he wanted to say – a lot of emotion he couldn’t express well. He dazed off for a moment, and I dared say that his usually dull eyes were showing something more. He tightened his lips and sniffed.

                  “I am bounded by the vow. I can’t do anything about a blood vow. It binds me to you to death and beyond,” He shrugged as if it was nothing big. I didn’t know how to react to that, but it was clearly unexpected. I thought he was ready to break the vow anytime now in order to kill me and present my dead body to the Elders. So what was it that caught him in that moment of vulnerability? Could it be that the cold, apathetic Kim Jongin actually showed kindness?

                  “Was it those Elders?” I sourly remarked. I shouldn’t have asked, but I wanted it out of my chest. “Did you take the bullet to gain my trust? Isn’t that what you’ve promised for them?”

                  If anything, I knew that Jongin would never lie to me. He might hide, and he might bite, but he wouldn’t lie – no matter how harsh it was.

                  “No.” – without an explanation whatsoever.

                  “If you hadn’t made such a vow, would you have taken the shot for me, still?” I didn’t know why I felt so pained when he heartlessly threw out those words at me. I didn’t know why I felt choked when I spoke or why these tears started to gather in my eyes. There were words I wanted to say, questions I wanted to ask, but I couldn’t, because in the end, they were all stuck at the tip of my tongue. Perhaps – I thought bitterly – these words were better left unsaid.

                  Jongin, too, was quiet. He looked anywhere but my eyes. For a second – and really, in a deceiving blink of an eye – his grey eyes softened and a small but sad smile made its way towards his beautiful lips. One moment of weakness – or so I thought. Then the smile vanished, and I mourned at the loss of its beauty. A permanent smirk found its way back, as if that smile had never happened at all.

                  “A vow is a vow, Princess. I don’t talk about what could have and couldn’t have been, else I’d forever be stuck,” He simply replied. “It’s better that you don’t dwell on this too much, although I know it’s probably the first time you’ve seen someone sacrifice his life for you up-close.” There was a grimace in his voice and I had a feeling he knew something that I didn’t. “Trust me, Princess, it won’t be the last time. Yesterday it might be me, tomorrow it could be anyone. Luhan, Taeyong, Sehun, Joonmyun. It’s the price we pay for having to serve you.”

                  This time, it was my turn to flinch. His words had wounded me.

                  “Next time…” I swallowed my pride, “You won’t need to do that anymore.”

                  There wouldn’t be next time.

                  I leaned forward and grabbed his face ever so gently. He stiffened as I placed a kiss on his right cheek. It lasted no more than seconds, but the picture of it would forever be imprinted on my mind. The spark lasted a second, and burst into this inexplicable feeling without a word to describe.

                  “Thank you, Kim Jongin,” then I walked out of the room – afraid that if he’d seen me now, he would know my feelings.

                  How did you fall for someone you couldn’t trust?

                  I pondered over that question nights after I met Jongin. Then I realised something about falling in love. It wasn’t about how it happened because you just fell. It was like falling off a cliff, taking the risk, knowing that you’d inevitably crash in the bottom.

                  My feelings for him didn’t come out as a slap in the face. Rather, it was like a confession, a revelation and an unspoken truce. Perhaps I’d always known I would fall for him one day. It came on so slowly, like a flower bud that took its time to blossom. Flushed, flustered, I covered up my face and smiled.

                  My unrequited feelings would never have a happy ending. And even though I wasn’t in love with him yet, it wasn’t that hard to see that I have begun to like him.

                  Very, very… much.

A/N: Because I am currently reading Lady Midnight, my writing style is pretty much inspired by Cassandra Clare (and I need her sense of humor and sarcasm, that woman is awesome!)