Leaning against the faded brick of the manor inspecting his cuticles was the one you remembered as Baekhyun.

"You've hardly cared in the past," Jongdae said drily. He shifted so subtly and minutely that Clara would have missed it if she hadn't been looking at him, silently pleading for protection. And, for some reason, he'd given it to her. That small shift was enough for him to come between her and Baekhyuon. 

"We haven't had this kind of excitement for a while." Baekhyun leaned to his left so he could see her. "Enjoying the moonlight?"

"That seems to be a normal activity in this place,” Clara murmured. Jongdae sent a rather pointed look in her direction. The message was clear. Speaking was not wise. 

The left corner of Baekhyun's mouth curled upwards. "Mind if I join you?" 

"You don't have an errand to run?" Jongdae raised an expectant brow. 

A deep, rumbling chuckle slowly escaped from Baekhyun's lips. He leaned forward menacingly. "Already done." 

Jongdae released a sigh full of resignation. His gaze moved to Clara. If protest was to be given, then it had to come from her. But fear kept the two-letter word from passing her lips. 

Gathering herr skirt in your hands, Clara said nothing as she passed both of the men and continued on her walk. They quickly fell into step on either side of her. No one spoke, letting the silence become the norm as she took in the manor from a new angle. But it was difficult to focus. 

On her right, she could feel Baekhyun's closeness. One inch separated an accidental brush of fingers. The flutter of his loose sleeve continuously caught her attention. A wind had picked up, moving the distracting fabric even more. tightened. Giving in to her peripheral, she watched Baekhyun as he stretched his neck from side to side, his grin now gone. The long lithe fingers of his right hand gently massaged the soft skin. 

"Are you injured?" 

The idiotic question was out before she could think it through. Jongdae, apparently done with the protector role, shook his head with a huff and roll of his eyes. Baekhyun's earlier demeanor returned in force. No longer walking, Baekhyun shifted his body and gradually leaned in. 

"Why? Do you want to... take care of me?" 

"No," Clara said sharply, trying to make her voice a cracking whip. It was the wrong approach. His grin grew in its predatory nature and something flashed behind his lips. Clara's eyes refused to leave his own. He came closer. No matter how hard she willed it, her feet refused to move. 

"Baekhyun." 

At the soft, confident call of his name, Baekhyun backed away, a rather... grumpy expression on his face. 

Junmyeon approached the group with his usual authoritative air, hands clasped behind his back and hair somewhat tousled. "Will I have to keep an eye on all of you at all times?" he asked in a very exasperated voice. His gaze narrowed in on Baekhyun. "Don't you have an errand to run?" 

Baekhyun straightened, gleefully replying, "Already done." 

Junmyeon didn’t waver. "Go find another." 

Slackjawed, Baekhyun glanced at Jongdae for a possible retort. When he gave no protest, Baekhyun turned to Clara, as if she would protest his dismissal. Quite the contrary, she was thankful for it. 

Knowing he'd lost, Baekhyun whirled quickly on his boots before stomping away. 

"Jongdae," Junmyeon moved in closer. "I'd like to speak to her alone." 

Not caring for this sudden dismal towards him, Jongdae shrugged and held the bag of buns out for Clara to take.

"No, thank you,” she answered the gesture bitterly. He was abandoning her to the most terrifying wolf. The food already in her stomach churned and threatened to come up again at the thought of being alone with Junmyeon. What would he do with no witnesses to intervene?

The acidic response slid right off of Jongdae. Swinging the bag by his side, he walked away without a second thought for her safety.

"There's still some path around the house,” Junmyeon said, suddenly appearing by Clara's side, his elbow offered out like a gentleman. When she didn't accept his elbow, he took possession of her hand and held it hostage in the crook of his arm.

She would be going with him whether she found it agreeable or not. 

"I want to apologize for keeping you here," he said rather cooly, as if he were apologetic about missing dinner.

Clara scoffed at the heartless comment. "The only true apology would be to let me go."

"That was my original intention." 

She stopped just before the turn around the corner. With the hold he had on her hand, Junmyeon's steps also came to a halt."You– You were going to let me go?" constricted. What had happened to snatch your freedom away so quickly? "Then why keep me?" 

Junmyeon sighed and forced her to continue the walk. "We took care of you for the days you were sick with fever and realized we've been missing a feminine touch around here. It brings out the better sides of us." 

She didn’t believe him for a second. "The better side of you? I hate to see the lesser side." 

He leveled his eyes with her own, his features hardened like stone. "No one is to touch you." 

"Really?" she scoffed. "Should I list the few incidents just in the past twenty-four hours?" 

Junmyeon’s eyes flashed. "Sehun has been reprimanded. That won't happen again." 

"And Mr. Yixing?" 

"Mr. Yixing? What about him?" He blinked, confused.  

"He was in my room last night." 

"What!" His voice cracked like the lightning before the storm rolled in. Clara flinched at his severe reaction. Realizing her expression was full of fear, he composed himself. His voice came out more gentle. "He will be reprimanded. No one is to go into your room without permission." A frown knitted his brow. "Is that why you fortified the door?" 

Clara swallowed, forgetting that he had tried to enter earlier this evening. "Yes. Yes, it is." 

The way he nodded gave her reason to believe that…. Well, that he might actually be listening. 

"No one will ever enter your room without permission again," he promised. His leveled gaze guided her into believing him. 

"Even you?" she asked. 

His throat visibly constricted, but he didn't argue. "Even me." 

As relieved as she was for that promise, she couldn't be entirely ecstatic. "Why keep me here? 

The earlier coolness and arrogance of his demeanor had washed away. "I told you. We need a companion."

"We?" She pulled away from him, disgusted. For reasons unknown, he let her slip from his grasp this time. "I'm not something to be passed around for you all to play with." 

"Of course not." A ghost of a smile began to cut in the corners of his lips. "You'll choose. In time. Whoever you wish, we are at your disposal. Until then, you’re all our guest."

"That doesn't make any sense,” she pushed. "You're all fine gentlemen." In looks anyway. Manners was an entirely different  discussion. "Surely by the end of the season in town, you can all find a suitable wife." 

"We... have our reasons," he said slowly. "Your traditional ways aren't suited for us." 

"My traditional ways?" What could that possibly mean? 

Junmyeon didn’t explain. He merely took your hand and pressed cool lips to your knuckles.

"In time, you will come to see the truth. Until then, no harm will come to you." He turned her hand over and gave another kiss to her wrist. Letting her go, he walked away, his promise still lingering behind. 

On the edge of the gardens, a small swing made of a simple plank of wood and two long ropes hung from a mighty tree. It whispered a minute comfort. Not having been on one since her childhood, Clara was wary of sitting on the sun faded seat, unsure if the fringed ropes would hold her grown woman weight. 

There was no governess or wealthy aunt around to warn her of snagging her dress with such unladylike behavior. With cautious movements, she slowly turned and sat on the swing. The ropes didn't snap. 

Not wanting to test her luck, she didn't push herself into full motion. No, she simply kept her toes on the ground, shifting only slightly from side to side. 

It was peaceful here, in this tucked away corner between the manor and maze-like hedges of the garden. No one else seemed to be around and that allowed her space to think. This was to be her home for... a longtime, it would appear. The negatives were more than obvious. So much that dwelling on them was pointless. That meant she needed to try and find a good thing in this situation. 

Her aunt. 

Well, that was easy. 

While she wasn't really a terrible human being, having to serve as her companion wasn't pleasant. Every whim of hers had to be met, the truth of Clara's dowry hung over her head. And she could be as demanding as the Queen. Her holiday was not to be Clara's holiday. 

And then there was the matter of her future. 

It wasn't that she didn't want to get married–you did. But she wanted love, passion. She wanted fire in her blood and yearning that could never be quenched. She wanted to know what it was like to be desperate for another person’s touch. Someone who looked at her with a gaze that sent her heart racing. "Perfectly adequate" was not what she wanted. 

"Perfectly adequate" was what her aunt was planning for you. Perhaps even less than adequate.

The rustling of nestled branches pulled Clara from her depressive, lonely thoughts. Kyungsoo had emerged from the garden hedges, his boots crunching to a halt on the rocky path. He stared at her with a horrified expression. The first bit of emotion seen from him and it was accompanied by widened eyes and tightened lips. Was there something wrong with her merely sitting here? 

The one called Changed appeared behind him. His gaze was more on the friendly side, something resembling a smile sent over to you. He took a step to start her way, but Kyungsoo grabbed a hold of his sleeve and dragged him away.

"Don't mind Kyungsoo, he avoids us all at one time or another." 

Jongdae suddenly chopped from the branches, landing on his feet beside her. Standing from the seat, Clara glowered at him. "You've come back, have you?" 

"If Junmyeon wishes to speak with you alone, then I'll give him that wish." His tone suggested that Junmyeon's wishes were met more like commands. 

"Well," she huffed, "then please obey my wish to be alone right now." 

Jongdae bowed deeply yet mockingly. He stayed behind, watching as she retreated back into the house.

Shoving the door closed, Clara leaned back against the wooden barrier that separated the main hall from the outside world. Only a few days ago, she had stumbled through those very doors, desperate for sanctuary. As insane as it sounded, perhaps she was given a bit more of a sanctuary than she had asked for. 

With a new resignation, she continued forward until she reached the main parlor on her left. 

The room was empty. Signs of recent usage were scattered amongst the furniture. Red stained goblets, chairs pushed away from the card table, a blanket half falling from an armchair. Thin slivers of moonlight broke through the heavy curtains, cutting across the floor like knives shattering the darkness. 

She stepped in further, drawn in by the grand piano off in the far left corner. It was so large it took up nearly a fourth of the room. Its black coat shimmered, even with her dull eyes. Someone loved this instrument, that was certain. They kept it polished and tuned. The ivory keys beckoned to create music. 

But she didn’t know how. Of all of the lessons to educate her that she latched onto, the piano had not been one. Still….

Clara jumped at the piercing sound of the plucked cord, a quiet gasp passing her lips. Her finger had pressed down on its own accord. Eyes frantically searched behind her, but none of the men appeared. She brushed her fingers along the keys, astonished by their softness. If only she could play the songs she knew in her heart. 

A hand suddenly covered hers. Several keys screeched at her second jump. 

Chanyeol didn’t apologize for scaring her or say anything gentle at all. went dry in worry as he removed his cool hand from her startled fingers. She watched as he rolled the sleeves of his black silk shirt up to his elbows. He didn’t look up at her. He sat down on the bench and began to play. 

For a moment, Clara simply stood and listened. But she needed to be closer. Closer to the music, to the beauty that was being created before her. The remainder of the bench was under her before he could second guess. Her eyes fluttered close as the notes drifted up from the piano and wrapped around her, protective, whispering sweet nothings in her ear like nothing she had ever heard before. They were a lover, a comfort. She could lose herself in that melody forever. 

The song too soon faded to an end. Clara's eyes remained closed, desperate to hold on. 

“Did you like it?” Chanyeol whispered. His deep voice was so low she almost missed it. All she could do to answer was nod. Coldness touched her cheek. Her eyes snapped open. 

Chanyeol was only an inch or so away, his dark eyes staring not at her own gaze, but lower. He ran his tongue over his lips. All she could do was breathe. 

You'll choose. In time. Whoever you wish, we are at your disposal.

The fingers against her cheek drifted down and brushed along her collar bone. 

In a blink, he was gone, only the ghost of his touch and the echo of the melody left behind.

Her breath quickened in panic. Jumping from the bench, she ran out into the hallway. The barely visible back of Chanyeol was on the edge of darkness. 

“Wait!” Clara called out to him. “Mr. Chanyeol, wait!”

He paused. Then slowly turned around so his face, half covered in shadow, was to her. 

“Play it again,” she begged. she wanted to hear more. Needed to hear more. And, he didn’t scare her. Not in this moment. She had been wanting to discover a story for herself that she had read a thousand times. Perhaps, this could be the beginning. 

A shining smile growing on his face, Chanyeol nodded and came back to her for another song. 

*****

Chanyeol played for hours, never tiring or stumbling over the keys. Every note came from within himself. He never pulled out a single piece of sheet music. Each time one song ended, he paused only long enough to seek approval from Clara for another before beginning the next. 

For most of the concert, she sat in silent appreciation, but occasionally, she risked speaking to ask about the piece he was currently playing. Nearly all were his own compositions.

"How have you had time to write all of these?" she asked as the newest song came to a close. 

His fingers paused on the last keys, elongating the notes in a way that felt out of place. Throughout his playing, he had looked to her to gauge her reactions. But now he kept his eyes on the instrument, his brow furrowed. 

"I've had a lot of time," he said quietly. "All the time I could have asked for." He lifted his hand from the keys and stretched his fingers, curling them inward and then back out again. 

Clara laughed light-heartedly. "You look hardly eight and twenty,"

"Have you been composing your whole life?" A forced smile pulled tightly at his lips. 

"For a very long time." 

She frowned at the cryptic answer. But her sudden hunger prevented her from pushing another question onto him. The gurgling sound was soft, but enough to bring her hand to your stomach. 

"Oh, that's right," Chanyeol chuckled softly. "I forgot you have to eat." 

"Yes, I do that on occasion." The memory of his lack of dinner the other night brewed in her mind. And he said “you have to eat”. Not “we”. Was it merely a slip of the tongue? "Will you show me the kitchen?" 

"The kitchen?" he echoed. 

Clara nodded. "Yes. I don't need a full meal. Some bread, cheese, and salted meat would suffice." 

"Oh, erm." He stood from the bench somewhat clumsily. "Actually, you stay here and I’ll fetch you some food." 

"But-”

He was gone before her tongue could click on the “T”. 

"Well, humph." That was abrupt. It wasn’t as if she had asked to see the coffers. She merely wanted to go to the kitchen and fetch some food herself. 

Many times at home she had prepared her own midday meal. There were obviously no servants around here. What could be wrong with her entering a measly kitchen? She had half a mind to go try and find it herself, but... she was hungry. And if she got lost, it could be a decent amount of time before she was able to eat. She could always search another time. 

Standing up from the bench, she wandered over to one of the tables still holding a dirty goblet. Remnants of deep red wine stained the inside of the glass.

At first glance, the drying liquid looked like any dry red wine she'd seen a hundred times. But there was something odd about the way it coated the glass. The thick red stain it left behind....

She wiped a finger around the inside and brought the coating closer for inspection. There was a stickiness to it that was different from her previous experiences with spilling the nightly drink. And the color... it was richer, more striking red than a deep purple. A color she had seen time and time again. She pressed the finger to her tongue. And immediately spat the taste out. 

Blood. 

It was undeniably blood mixed in the wine. What the hell were these men? 

"Do you insist on being everywhere?" 

Clara stumbled back from the deep voice, her hand colliding with the goblet. The delicate cup flew off the table towards the hardwood floor. Before it could shatter into a million pieces, a hand snatched hold off the goblet. 

Kyungsoo didn't replace the goblet onto the table. He stared at her with a hardened expression. His dark eyes like hickory seemed filled with shadow. 

"What are you?" Clara whispered, her heart beating so fast it was traveling up . 

Blood, reflexes, cold breath. 

Things that weren't human yet familiar to her anyway. Somewhere in the back crevices of her childhood. 

Kyungsoo leaned in, forcing her back until she stumbled into one of the chairs. 

"What are we?" he scoffed mockingly. His top lip curled upward, revealing unnaturally long canines. "Figure the monster out for yourself." 

Fear charged through her like a prized stallion. She scrambled past him to get away, tripping over the hem of her dress as she fled. Chanyeol reappeared in the entrance, two others by his side and a tray of the exact morsels she had asked for laid out in an intricate picture in his hands. But she didn't pause long enough to appreciate it. She ran from the room, their confusion in her wake.

She ran until she reached the sanctuary of her room. She shoved all she could in front of her door to keep them out, keep them all out. 

Reflexes, grace fullness, nighttime. 

Blood, cold breath... fangs. 

Not human. 

Monster. 

That was what Kyungsoo had said. Had called himself. She was in a house of monsters. But what kind of monsters? 

Gathering the blanket from the floor, she crawled onto the bed and buried herself under the fabric shield. Immediately, the air grew hot, but still she folded in on herrself, her arms tight around her shoulders. Eyes squeezed shut, she wondered how she ended up here, what she had done to deserve it. 

She prayed silent prayers that she could make it simply through the night.