It was the start of the 1700s when she met Seulgi. The fireworks and noise that overwhelmed her senses drove her to the funeral home for a semblance of quiet. Spending years close to wars for easy and guiltless feeding off of the dead and dying had conditioned her to abhor loud noises and crowds. She hadn’t fed in a while due to the livening atmosphere from the holidays. The war had ended a few years ago and the horrors she had witnessed repulsed Irene deeply. She’s sworn off drinking from humans. Winter meant fewer wild animals and more people awake later in the night.

     In her dazed state, Irene doesn’t register colliding with a woman seemingly drowning in layers of thick clothing in the dark and frigid night. The woman nearly fell had she not been holding the door to the mortuary after closing up.

     “Miss, are you alright?” A low and silky voice spoke into the hush of night—save for the muffled sounds of hollering and a light show far away. She scrambles to peel off one of her many coats and hastily wraps it around the disorganized Irene. “You must be freezing! Wearing such thin clothing at a night like this.”

     Irene finally collects herself and sees the woman holding her. She looks like a dream. Velvet skin as soft as her russet eyes and messy hair, dusted with snow along with her full cheeks. The blood running through her veins was fresh and youthful. She smelled like clementines and mint. Irene’s fangs grew out on their own volition, much to her embarrassment. The soft light from the lamp the woman is holding reflects against her sharp teeth.

     The woman tenses and nearly pushes her but instead hastily backs away a few feet. “You’re a—"

     “I’m not!” Irene interrupts her and her voice cracks due to either nervousness, fear of being discovered, the lack of blood, or the odd sensation she felt while making eye-contact with the brunette. She doesn’t care at the moment and she definitely would not like to think about the last reason.

     The woman raises her brow. “You’re... not?” Her jaw slacks in disbelief and slight amusement. She nearly smiles at the absurdity of the situation but tries to contain herself. She chuckles at the voice crack, though, and bites her tongue when she remembers that the seemingly frail woman she was worried about two seconds ago could kill her.

     The woman feels a magnetic pull towards Irene’s eyes. They're red, almost glowing in the dark. Legends say that vampire eyes have murderous intent behind them, but the woman doubts this as Irene’s hold something more precious yet equally terrifying. Fear creeps up her legs and keeps her still. Something else, however, grips at her chest. It’s warm and inviting.

     “Um, please spare me. I, uh—” a brilliant thought crossed her mind, “Oh! I have blood.” She nearly smacks her own face at her stupidity. “I meant inside the mortuary in buckets! I have blood inside here. Please don’t kill me, Miss.” She hurriedly turns to find the right key to unlock the door.

     “Irene.”

     “What?”

     “My name. I cannot enter without permission. You must invite me in.”

     “Oh,” she whispers as she opens the door and scans her near-murderer’s appearance. “Come in, Ms. Irene.” She briefly contemplates the risk of revealing her own name to be polite, but all her worries are willed away as she sees the shorter woman’s expression when she introduces herself. Irene would’ve been blushing had she been human, she thinks. “My name is Seulgi.”

     They walk in the dimly lit hallway leading to the mortuary in silence, Irene trailing a few strides behind Seulgi. Her steps are silent, like the ghost of a ballerina--a stark contrast to the sound of Seulgi’s heavy boots and firm gait.

     “So… are you new in town? Just passing by or looking for a place to stay?” Seulgi asks as an ice breaker. She cringes after she lets go of her words. She’s a little awkward according to the vendors in the town square. Her friends Joy and Yeri who work at the local tavern would always for her lack of social graces. And Wendy, as sweet as the pastries she bakes, would stifle a laugh and try to comfort Seulgi.

     Seulgi glances behind her back and sees Irene’s brows furrow subtly. She's met with tense silence. Irene’s gaze is clouded and unfocused, eyes wandering to and fro.

     Irene’s thoughts are running a mile a minute, yet are headed nowhere.

     ‘She’ll kill me.’

     ‘I’ll kill her before she does.’

     ‘What am I doing?’

     ‘She smells so nice…’

     ‘How pathetic, a vampire walking straight to her death.’

     ‘This is foolish.’

     ‘But I’m starving.’

     ‘! What am I doing? I’ve lost my mind.’

     Her train of thought was interrupted by Seulgi clearing and the sound of a door creaking open. The smell of dirty coins ade her senses, the smell of old blood.

     “Um, I’m not sure how picky vampires are with blood.” Seulgi's whole body turns with her head animatedly as she searches for something around the room. “Oh! This bucket’s fairly new. The blood is from the latest body they brought here. It’s only a few days old and I took it just this morning.”

    Irene grabs the container of blood as it was being handed to her. She takes a skeptical glance at Seulgi before chugging the whole bucket like a traveller who hasn’t had fresh water in weeks. Her hands form indents on the edges of the metal bucket where she’s holding it. She has no care for etiquette as of the moment. She needs to feed.

     Seulgi simply watches her. 'Why didn’t she murder me on sight? She’s starving,' she thinks.

     The sound of an empty bucket hitting the floor echoes through the room and Irene wobbles from the blood rush. She drank a little too quickly. Her senses finally settle in, and she coughs from disgust. She just drank a whole bucket’s worth of blood from a corpse that’s been rotting for days. She nearly gags at the thought. Irene might no longer be human, but she’s still civilized.

     Seulgi, standing a few feet away, smiles at the sight of Irene’s nose scrunching in repulsion. She exhales sharply through her nose in a slight laugh and bites her cheek to keep the corners of from lifting higher as she sees Irene’s ears twitch at the sound.

     Irene turns on her heel sharply to face Seulgi. Mustering up all the intimidation she could summon into her stare.

     “Do not speak of me to anyone. I know your name and your face, and I will not hesitate to erase it from this town.” Irene threatens Seulgi in a soft but steady tone. The fine hairs on Seulgi’s neck stand at the threat, though not because of fear. The soft glow of light bounces off Irene’s features like she’s the precious moon. She looked ethereal. The human knows that this could be some vampire illusion or spell. Despite that, she did not mind the chance of being entranced one bit.

     The vampire’s right brow lifts at the sight of Seulgi looking calm and almost intrigued. She expected her to be cowering in fear. Instead, her eyes shine with mirth and awe in the dark room illuminated by a single lamp. Irene is caught off guard for the nth time that night. moves before her brain catches up with what she said.

     "T-thank you.”

     And Seulgi, despite the danger the vampire poses and the risks she’s taken tonight by not running away the first chance she got, responds truthfully.

     “You’re welcome to return any time.”

     The last thing she sees is Irene’s back straightening, her eyes widening, and cheeks puffing in shyness and annoyance before she’s gone in a flash, leaving a trail of dust particles scattered in the air.