A/N strongly suggest you to hear K.Will’s You Don’t Know Love at bus scene. That’s the mood I was into when wrote the scene

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Surprisingly, my unreasonable wish was being heard right about now.

At first he was just staring at me like I’ve grown second head, and believe me, I almost backed down right there from opening the gate of reconciliation between Mom and Jungsoo-ssi. We spent ten seconds staring at each other, and at some breaking point the boy asked, “What are you going to do?”

Honestly? I don’t know. “I’m just going to talk to Jungsoo-ssi.” I answered instead, because looking confident is the key to successful; even when you didn’t know what the you are going to do. Saying that I have the guts to interfere with Mom and Jungsoo-ssi’s already broken ties were a little bit too much, because I don’t. I’m only an eighteen years old who didn’t have a say in this relationship, man! In split second I thought the boy wouldn’t let me to talk with his father, but he calmly said “Father hasn’t been in home in three days, and possibly more. He’s busy recently.”

What? What kind of father didn’t even go to home for three days straight? “Not even for a dinner or something? Or to see has something blown up?” I asked the common sense question. He just looked at me with clueless eyes. No wonder they were all so detached and cold. His father’s parental guidance was definitely not the best. He then got his iphone and typed something on it hastily, before slipping it back to his pocket side—“Just got informed that he’s going to be home tonight.”

That got my attention. “Can he—is it possible for me to, you know…” I trailed in the middle of sentence, uncertain. Go to Jungsoo-ssi’s house, talk some sense to him, and get my Mom and him back in the game again. The plan was much applicable when it was swirling in my head and not being projected out—now, though…

“Yeah, it’s okay.” He said easily. “When will you be off?”

“Um,” I checked the watch. “It’s… actually I’m off since five minutes ago.”

“Then let’s go.” He said, turning around, leaving me by myself.

I was bewildered. That’s it? I thought. I was risking a cardiac arrest and a night full of worst-case scenarios for five-second agreement from the opposite party? That’s it?

Five minutes later, I’ve already grabbed my black backpack and greeted quickly Erina before she could see who was waiting for me outside of the parlor. The nameless boy waited in front of the parlor. “Do you even know my name?” he spoke to me. I froze, trying to come up with something with blank result. I mean, don’t blame me, it was hardly my fault. There were eleven faces yesterday! I don’t have photographic memory, c’mon. I might’ve been a vampire but all the good things people supposed that vampire possessed seem to miss me. I wasn’t a blessed vampire.

“I’m sorry.” I said sincerely, not making any excuses up. “I’m just… bad at names. There was this little kitten in animal shelter, up to be raised, and I was just passing by wanting to hold this cute little kitty… I asked his name to the people on the animal shelter and I forgot his name the next day I brought Mom there… I kept saying the wrong name and, yeah, I couldn’t have him as my pet.” I’m rambling, I sounded stupid. I should stop. But my traitorous mouth didn’t think so. The annoying just kept yapping like whatever. “I thought his name was Spike or something.”

 “I’m Woojin.” He said, cutting me from my purgatory. When I blinked to him, the boy bit his lips and dare I say he was biting back his laugh? I felt a weight was being lifted from my shoulders. At least he wasn’t mad or upset.

We really did go to Woojin’s house—the devil’s den, my hell, whatever you call it. What made the journey awkward for us was when we were in a crowded bus, a group of people shoved me to the side and Woojin grabbed me to his chest—if only we weren’t so different, I would fangirl so hard at the swoon-worthy shojo-ish manga trope ‘protecting the girl from crowds’ cliché—the proximity of us were much too close, I was bound to be overwhelmed by his dizzying, werewolf-y scent and vice versa, which made both of us scrunched our nose at the same time and parted at unreasonable distance.

Nature really wouldn’t let me forget about who we were, and what we were. Nature wouldn’t fail to disappoint me.

When silence was upon us and the moderate topic was running out, I found myself wondering whether or not this plan would be successful. I mean, it wasn’t like Jungsoo-ssi would hear me out or something. I’m a vampire who, in a sense, had ruined his relationship. Of course, as a father too, he would be protective over his own children, and trapping a vampire in the same house as werewolves didn’t scream safe at all. From what I’ve gathered from supernatural history (which tampered with many lies but still resourceful at its best), there were many vampire and werewolf bigshots had unleashed underground revolutionary war exclusively between two of them, triggered by basic, carnal hatred for each other. Jungsoo-ssi as a police could objectively said that the war still hasn’t stopped from day one until now—century-old feud, watered by organic abhorrence, sheltered by prejudice.

Me too—I couldn’t forget the shiver that went down my body that day when I saw straight into a pack of werewolves. Eleven of them glared at me and they silently screamed ‘GO AWAY, VAMPIRE’ in a threatening manner, and I almost did if I didn’t remember my Mom. I’m scared in a way that I have never felt. It was like staring down into an abyss that you know prisoning a horde of sea monsters that could swallow you easily in a heartbeat if you stared too much. Like you don’t have power against them, and I hated the feeling.

The bus was vacant now—I saw a single student hearing K.Will’s ‘You Don’t Know Love’ on her iphone, sitting at one of the bus’s corner while enjoying the outside view. It was four AM and the glow of the sun had been mellowed down a bit, seeping beautifully inside the bus in a magical, warm light. The light was bright, but not hurtful. Dusts were suspended in the air, reflecting light and made themselves looked like crystallized, fairy dust—the phenomenon itself was called Tyndall effect. The metal hangings which were stationed neatly at arm reach reflected the light inside of the bus.

I turned to Woojin only to see his eyes were closed serenely and his hands folded on his rising chest. He was sleeping. I sat on his left side and the window screens were on his right side, giving him an angelic-looking halo outlining his brown hair. I didn’t immediately register this cold-hard fact earlier, but he looked straight up like a model magazine, whilst I looked like I’ve just shepherd a herd of sheep. He wasn’t that tall, but still taller than me. But the span of his shoulders, veiny hands and moderate muscles on his body made his stature more… savory than average boys around. Not to mention his face… he and his brothers could make a freaking kpop boyband, produce bops, chart a perfect-all-kill for debut songs, basically be nation’s lovelies. His licorice-colored oversized jacket and white tee coupled with casual jeans made him even more drool-able. Thirty point plus courtesy to his snaggletooth that could just snaggle Girl’s heart.

But really, this was getting dangerous—what if we missed our halt? He was the one who knew the way… I really didn’t want to wake him up… he looked like he was in a deep slumber. Fortunately, I didn’t have to wake him up, as the bus jagged upwards because of a stumble at the road—his temple hit my shoulder and he immediately woke up, rubbing his temple. His off-guard expression made me wanted to laugh at him, but I refrained myself. Instead, I asked him, “Where will we be off?”

He looked at me in post-nap confused state, as if not administering who I was and where he was, before groaning, “Where is this?”

Wow, such deep voice. Much manly. Very cool. “It’s still in Seoul. Have your soul came back from the heaven?”

“Why should my soul come back from heaven? Did you just curse me to die early?”

Why did every attempt to joke with werewolf always ended up in mortal danger and the likes? “It’s a myth,” I said flatly, “They said when you sleep your soul wanders on heaven out of curiosity. And when it comes back, the memory is erased. I bet you don’t know this myth, you Seoul townie, so I forgive your accusation.”

“I came from Busan—I grew up with those myths, but never in my life I heard that one,” Woojin said suspiciously. After a while he said, “I bet I can name more myth than you.”

“Really? Surprise me then, Busan Boy.” I said, annoyed because of his suspicious nature. It was just a myth! Why was he dragging this so much? I didn’t even have any evil intention when I said that. We got off while still arguing—that was how petty he was. It seemed like we were going to walk to his home, as he led me to a road further from main road. When we walked, he started the myth-feud we had hotly.

“You can’t cut your nails at night, because you’ll summon scissor-demon.”

“Basic.”

“If a girl doesn’t do her chores until the end, her spouse is going to be an old man.”

“ist.”

“If you switch on your fan when you’re asleep, you’re going to be killed.”

“No.”

“If you met with a woman with mask on who asked ‘am I pretty?’ then don’t answer her. Or your mouth is going to be slitted from one ear to another.”

I looke