Chapter Eight.

It was scary.

This idea that in a few months, I would be married to Kim Jonghyun.

I could still remember when he said, how he said, and where he said, to me, let’s fall in love and make them hate us.

And I had thought we had taken a step in the right direction. I mean…He was handsome, and fairly kind and I could find myself in love with him so quickly.

But now…Now he just seemed to be pushing me away, again. I didn’t know what was going through his head. I didn’t now, and I never had.

He was an enigma.

His energy unnerved me. This darkness suddenly surrounded him whenever we were close; his usual self I was trying to uncover, and was getting so close to doing so, now had an unbreakable barrier that I was afraid to confront.

I couldn’t imagine how he was feeling. Was he scared? Angry? Confused?  I wanted to ask him.

But he was so unapproachable, especially now.

He seemed broken. And I wanted to put the pieces back together, I really, really did. I just didn’t know how.

xXx

The droplets of water that pattered against the foyer’s large window synced beautifully with the gentle chords of the piano, punctuated every once in awhile with a crash of thunder that had me inching towards Jonghyun a little more every moment.

He was playing something I didn’t recognize, but the notes made pleasure run through my veins. He was skilled, that was for darn sure.

He ended the song, to my dismay, pressing lightly on a B flat.

I could hear the soft breath he exhaled and I closed my eyes for a moment.

“Do you play at all?” His voice startled me. It seemed like every word he had spoken had been few and far between, so the statement was surprising.

“No…My mother tried to teach me, but after a bit she gave up. I’m rather uncoordinated.”

"Heh. My father didn't agree to it at first, but I wouldn't allow him to tell me no." He smiled to himself, the keys lovingly. I was about to speak again when a particularly frightening strike of lightning scared me out of my wits. I forgot what I was going to say.

He watched me for a moment until all fear had faded, for now.

"You may not have recognized the first one... but this one you should know."

Silence fell between us as his long fingers played a melody I haven't heard in God knows how long.

So familiar.... I felt... safe.

My brother. That was why. When I was too little to understand that the thunder wouldn't actually hurt me, and that the sun was what I should worry about, at night he would sing this to me. During dark storms like this he would wrap us both in a blanket with the tiny me in his arms. I would bury my face in his chest and he would wait until there was a pause in the thunder's angry song so it would be an audience to his own.

I felt my stomach churn in a way that was both uncomfortable but lethargic.

I hummed quietly along, my voice far from pleasant but low enough so he couldn’t hear the cracking of my tone.

I somehow found myself fitted nicely into his side as he played. The body heat he emanated made me feel contentment.  The feeling of being unsure from earlier had nearly evaporated. I wasn’t sure how long this peacefulness between us would last, but I would enjoy it while it was here.   

Gently he tapped a few chords, ending the song with a barely noticeable decrescendo. I opened my eyes after a long few moments when I felt him stand. I knew the comfortable silence between us had then ended, but I didn’t protest.

I watched him close the hood over the keys, and he began to walk away, before stalling and turning around to offer me his hand. I could feel the blush paint my cheeks as I took it. He helped me up and looped our arms as we walked out of the room.

The soiree décor was beginning to come together; the chandelier candles lit and creating a certain warm presence in the room. Tables were set up with punch, or blood, really, and packets of sustenance lined up beside the bowl, laid out nicely on lacy table cloths. Servants bustled around carrying cleaning supplies and silver dishes, popping in and out of the room frequently.

“It’s crowded here,” I said quietly, and Jonghyun nodded, leading her into the kitchen. Servants and cooks bustled around, carrying silver trays and plates stacked with assorted gourmets, dodging and flailing around each other in their rush to complete whatever task they were assigned by my mother. There was one man, though, who seemed entirely calm and collected…Until he biffed it on a pile of spilled flour and smacked his head on the corner of the metal counter top.

“Onew-hyung!” Jonghyun said, letting go of me in favor of kneeling by the man and helping him up, making me blink.

“Aish,” the man whined, clinging onto Jonghyun’s arm with one hand, the other reaching up to press lightly against his head.

“Are you alright?” Jonghyun asked, and I could see him biting the corner of his lip, attempting to hold in his laughter.

“Yeah, no big deal…Is it bleeding?”

“Nah, you’re alright.” Onew steadied himself, brushing off his apron. I could recognize him now as the Kim’s, clumsy, but professional, chef, who had prepared our meal the first night I had met Jonghyun. Oddly enough, seeing him almost made me lethargic, for when times where simpler between my betrothed and I. Well, as simple as it could get between two vampires in a world deemed the home of the Damned.

“Rinka, come here a moment,” Jonghyun called to me. I walked over to him and Onew, looking up, first at him, then to Onew.

“This is Lee Jinki, though he likes to be called Onew.”

“Hello, Miss Rinka, again.” He grinned at me and I smiled back, though mine paled in comparison.

I looked around. "Your servants are doing very well here, but if you want, I could ask some of mine to assist?"

Jonghyun looked around as well. "Uh, no, Rinka, I think we're doing fine by ours-"

"Actually!" Onew piped up." A few extra hands wouldn't be a bad thought, young master and mistress."

Jonghyun and I watched as the flustered oppa starting blushing as he requested the help of one of my maids.

"...My ninja maid, Ali? Oh don't worry, knowing her she'll pop up at any moment."

"It's true." A small voice said behind me. Jonghyun was once again given a heart-attack, pressing a hand to his chest in surprise, nearly throwing himself a few feet back, whereas Onew and I simply smiled, both of us used to her quirky habits.

I glanced at Onew, who had a cute blush on his cheeks and a small smile turning up his lips, then to Ali, whose face was in a similar state. Oh.

“Come on, Jonghyun-oppa, I’m feeling a bit hot in here,” I said to him, and he nodded.

“Let’s go then.”  I smiled back at Ali but she was too busy looking up at Onew in some mix between attraction and awe.

He nodded, once more giving me his arm and walking us out. I let out a breath, truly thankful to be out of the steaming kitchen.

“I suppose you need to go get ready, yes?” Jonghyun asked me and I nodded.

He looked down at me, and I in turn looked into his eyes. Once more they held that inkling of want but were guarded by something I couldn’t place. It was strange how one moment we were having some sort of enjoyment in the kitchen and the next we were, what felt like, in separate worlds.

“I’ll see you in a bit, Miss Rinka.”

xXx

Mother of god you have no IDEA how much this chapter made me want to SHOOT myself. 

. Please, please tell me what you thought. Some stuff will happen next chapter for the soiree and such. I do hope you enjoyed this...Sorry, sorry excuse for a chapter. I shall go nap now.