She should’ve never brought Seulgi to the cave.

     Irene sighs as she hears the rhythmic crunching of snow under energetic footsteps. Ever since she helped Seulgi warm up that fateful night, she’s been coming back every two days to bring Irene a ‘fresh’ supply of blood. 

     It’s partially Irene’s fault too. She was unintentionally encouraging this behavior. She should’ve told Seulgi a flat-out “no” the first time she came to visit with a bucket in hand. But here she is, nearly two weeks since the deliveries started, and she just can't refuse Seulgi. 

     “I can’t let my savior starve! It’s bad enough that you can’t enjoy good food anymore.” 

     And so, Irene just let her. Why does she let her? The blood was always awful. Already slightly oxidized with a weird aftertaste that comes with death. It smelled like what rancid chicken used to be to Irene. Irene didn’t get to argue with herself for long because Seulgi’s already by the cave’s entrance.

     “Knock knock!” 

     Irene startles and hops up. Despite her enhanced senses, Seulgi always manages to catch her when she’s off-guard or distracted.

     “Come in, Seulgi.” 

     “Oo~ Always so serious, Ms. Irene.” Seulgi ducks her head and sets the bucket down by the empty one. She smiles knowing Irene was taking the blood that was given to her. No matter how much Irene protested the first few times Seulgi visited, she would always return to a clean bucket.

     “The weather’s getting colder.”

     “Right on, weatherman Irene. Back to your regularly scheduled town updates: Joy and Yeri ransacked my room this weekend!” Seulgi joked as she squats down by the fire. Irene doesn’t need the flame. She only lights it whenever Seulgi comes or when the snow falls.

     “Seulgi.”

     “Hm?”

     “Be careful.” 

     “I will. I am, don’t worry.” 

***

     Irene was immensely worried.

     Seulgi usually arrived at midnight, ten minutes give or take, every two days without fail. She would inform Irene if she had any plans overmorrow and bring an extra bucket when she would be busy. She had said nothing of the sort on her last visit. An hour had passed since her usual time. 

     Irene’s gut tells her something’s not right. Right now, she wishes that she was wrong for once. Perhaps she’s worried over nothing. 

     The howl of the wind outside indicates otherwise. The snowfall had started getting stronger the past few days, building up to an oncoming blizzard. 

     Her nerves get to her and Irene rushes out into the cold. She runs as fast as she could as the snow tries to swallow her up every time she takes a step. The snow reaches past her knees and she stumbles on her way to the trail. 

     “.”

     The smell of blood is carried by the gusts of wind.

     “. !” Irene panics. 

     “Seulgi, you ing idiot.”

     It’s hard to pinpoint where the scent is coming from. The wind constantly changes directions like it’s toying with her. Irene unwittingly starts to take fast, shallow breaths in her fright, the action interfering with her ability to concentrate on spotting traces of where Seulgi could be.

     From afar, she sees it. Starkly contrasting against the white snow, a splash of red on the ground and a lump covered in snow next to it. Irene ran. Her chest felt heavy, filled with dread that weighed her whole body down. felt like it was set ablaze. Her eyes shake as she takes in what she’s seeing, hands flexing as her thoughts run rampant. 

     The scent of blood clouded her senses, but she can single out the smell of mint and sun. Her heart drops.

     She carefully turns the person on the floor around. 

     Seulgi lies unconscious, her lips turning blue and her skin cold to the touch. Her chest moves slowly--too slow. 

     Irene scans her for injuries, and her worries are slightly alleviated when she realizes the blood isn’t hers. An empty bucket sits in the snow a few meters away.

     Irene wraps the coat she’s wearing around her. She carefully places Seulgi on her back and carries her back to the cave as quickly as she could whilst being gentle, so as to not jostle and further injure the human.

***

     Irene carefully places Seulgi by the fire she had lit while she was waiting, adding more logs to the pit to make the fire stronger. She dusts the snow off of Seulgi. Her hands hang in the air, hesitant to hold her. She’s cold, unliving. A vampire’s touch feels like falling in a frozen lake. She could hurt Seulgi more. 

     Irene stands and picks up the empty bucket by the cave’s entrance. She rushes to the lake nearby and smashes through the ice to get water. She returns to Seulgi’s side as swiftly as she left and sets the water to boil. 

     The vampire rips off her sleeves and the ends of her pants and soaks the fabric in the hot water; wiping Seulgi’s face and placing the rags under her clothes to help her get warmer. She takes the coat on the unmoving woman and pours the contents of the bucket onto it before wrapping it around Seulgi once more. She hopes this would be enough to keep Seulgi warm. 

     Irene watches over her vigilantly, flinching every time a cough wracks through Seulgi’s body as if she felt the pain herself. She goes back and forth from the river to fetch more water to boil. For the first time in centuries, Irene longs for the sun. Irene pleads for Helios to raise the sun earlier. 

***

     The snow had stopped sometime in the night, and so had Seulgi’s shivering. Still, Irene continues to fetch buckets of water and logs to keep the fire burning. 

     Back turned against the mouth of the cave, Irene doesn’t see the daylight starting to peek over the horizon. All she knows is that the rags have lost their warmth again, and she needs to go back to the lake. She steps foot outside once more, her determination to nurse Seulgi back to health unwavering. 

     The sun catches up to her on her way back. She doesn’t burn physically. No, the torture was superficial. The sunlight brought immense pain against Irene’s exposed skin. It made her dizzy and she wanted to throw up. She trudges back to Seulgi with her fist clenched and her face in a scowl. Collapsing onto the ground as soon as she’s under the overhang of her hiding spot.

     “Irene…”

     She snaps her head to the whisper and staggers her way to Seulgi. Her actions are clumsy as she nearly trips on her way over and drops to her hands and knees beside Seulgi.

     “H-how are you feeling? Do you feel pain anywhere?” Irene hurriedly asks.

     Seulgi brings her hand up, moving away stray wisps of hair covering Irene’s eyes, and gently cups her face. 

     “I’m okay.” 

     Irene finally relaxes at that. The tiredness hits her all at once with the force of a stampede. She collapses onto Seulgi’s chest. 

     “Rene?” Seulgi calls out softly, gratitude and care in her tone. 

     Irene doesn’t move. That’s when the human notices the light from outside.

     “The sun’s out. , you just came from outside! Irene--”

     Seulgi’s cut off by Irene’s shoulders shaking, head still against her chest. Seulgi tries to prop herself up by her elbows. She holds Irene’s face with both her hands. She’s smiling, laughing inaudibly. Seulgi catches her eyes glistening before she closed them. 

     “Seulgi…” She balls her fist around Seulgi’s collar. Her eyes are screwed shut. Seulgi feels Irene’s cold breath against her face. “Please, don’t come back. Don’t visit me anymore.” 

     They’re both silent. The sound of birds chirping in the distance fills the air. Seulgi’s breath is still slightly labored, and it sends tingles down Irene’s spine. 

     “Stay with me, Irene,” Seulgi says resolutely. “That way, I don’t have to hike all the way here.” 

     “No.”

     “I live alone, it’s alright.”

     “Seulgi--”

     “I need to make sure you don’t starve.”

     “Seul--”

     “Keep me company at home, Irene. Or else, I’ll just return here to find you.”

      Stubborn. Seulgi was as stubborn as a mule. Reluctantly, she mumbled her answer. Seulgi almost missed it had they not been centimeters apart.

     “Okay.”

     “Rest. I’ll be here when you wake up,” whispered Seulgi. She sat up against the cave wall and guided Irene to lay her head on her lap. A soft melody echoes through the cavern as Irene’s eyes flutter shut, and Seulgi’s lips move to lyrics of love and infinities. 

***

     In exchange for keeping her life eternal, a fate bestowed upon her against her will, she must bear witness to the fickleness of mortality. Before meeting Seulgi, Irene had been living her life through the eyes of an outsider, never truly allowing herself to experience the memories she makes. Thus, she bears no worldly attachments. Too apathetic to even contemplate how she could meet her demise, Irene was simply going through the motions of living.

     Attachment scared her. It meant having a reason. Reasons meant questions. And Irene was too cowardly to face a question she wouldn’t know the answer to, so she had neither--no reason or queries. 

     Irene sees flashes of unknown faces. She sees buildings corrode, overtaken by nature or by the hands of their makers. She hears voices--too many voices--and feels a haunting touch on her ear, then to her jaw, down to her neck. The touch singes at where her bite marks would be. 

     The moment sleep left her being, she opened her eyes to a wooden ceiling. Irene remains still, trying to make sense of where she is and how she got there. Her hands are moving against soft sheets, and her back isn’t sore from lying down on the cold hard ground. She looks around and sees a small workbench across the foot of the bed, a closet to her left, and a small kitchen by the door with a dining table and two chairs. There are trinkets on shelves around the place and drawings stuck to the walls. 

     She mimics the touch from her slumber, trailing her right hand against her face when Seulgi comes in through the door. She sits up abruptly at her entry. 

     “You’re awake!” says Seulgi. At that moment, Irene looks down and realizes she’s no longer wearing her tattered garments. She’s now wearing a cotton shirt and linen pants. 

     “How did you bring me here? I assume this is your home.” Irene swings her feet off the bed and stands, swaying slightly. The clothes are a little large on her. The pants fold and wrinkle from touching the floor, and her shirt reaches her thighs. Had Irene’s heart been functioning, she would’ve been beet red at the realization that Seulgi changed her clothes. 

     Seulgi gently pushes her to sit back on the bed and kneels down. 

     “I went ahead back to town while you were asleep to get help. I brought Wendy along with a sled, and we brought you back to my place,” she says as she carefully folds the ends of Irene’s pants, so she wouldn’t trip over herself. “Luckily, it’s not suspicious of me to be hauling around a body on a sled. Though this time it’s different because my passenger was actually alive--uh, sort of.” 

     Irene mentally takes note of thanking Wendy if they ever crossed paths. The Deities might’ve cursed her once more to get involved with such a persistent person like Seulgi. Now, she’s involving more people in her life. That couldn’t possibly end well. 

     “What happened back at the mountain?” Irene asks.

     “I slipped and fell,” she sheepishly laughs while scratching her cheek. “I guess I was tired from work and overestimated myself.”

     She sees Irene frown. ‘That would’ve never happened if I just kept my distance. If I had run away that night we met, she would not have troubled herself over me. Perhaps I should have starved alone in the forest. Maybe the ground could finally take claim over me,’ Irene thinks. 

     Seulgi notices her lack of response and looks up at Irene. 

     “Hey.”

     “Hm?”

     “Would you like to have dinner with me?” asks Seulgi with a tranquil smile. 

     Like the waves washing away footsteps on the shore, Irene's worries fade away from her mind with Seulgi’s request. She’ll deal with her thoughts another time. At this moment, something precious is in her hands, and she will not let it slip through. She knows she's being reckless. However, she's spent decades being wary. It's time to throw caution to the wind for once.

     “Are you sure you’re not a murderer with all the blood you somehow have in storage?” says Irene. And she chuckles at the sight of Seulgi’s smile widening. 

     “I might be a hitman.”

     “You’re unsure if you’re a murderer?” 

     “People have told me I’ve got a killer smile.” 

     Irene cackles and throws her head back from laughing. “Don’t go harvesting my organs now.”

      “Oh, Rene. I think I should be more worried about you doing the same.” Seulgi blankets her words' true meaning under the guise of a joke. Irene takes this as a prod at her being a vampire as she laughs heartily. The sound fills up the house and an empty space in Seulgi’s chest. The moon shines over their little moment, Seulgi on one knee and Irene on her bed, in her clothes. That night, Irene had stolen her heart. And she has no plans on asking for it back.