Chapter Text
The first day they met, Jinsoul would like to think she was less starstruck and more enamoured.
Enamoured because Jungeun was standing there, stance wide and shoulders perfectly squared, like she was heading off to battle. Yet, Jinsoul could hear her heart; it was screaming to flee, beating so furiously that it might just run out.
Enamoured because she was so small in that even smaller classroom. She looked almost adorable, tiny form defiant when pit against the heavy weight of attention from the class. But presence isn’t determined by size alone; presence is both an echo and a demand: here I am; this is me; focus on me. In honesty, Jinsoul thought it was impossible not to stare a little.
She also thinks it's impossible not to be in awe of Jungeun. Eyes bright and focused, blonde hair that flowed to perfectly frame her face, and lips that danced with each syllable that escaped. Jungeun is pretty, and she wears it like an armour, like it’s a kind of elegance that lingers in the air.
Jinsoul recalls her laugh, loud and unrestrained, that cute little scrunch between her brows and teeth fully visible.
She smiles, then begins to write.
I find beauty in the little things. (You must, really, when they are a nuisance to your senses—at times, even breathing gives me a headache. It's exhausting.) Some beauty has to be found before they can be appreciated. Some, though, speak for themselves. When you first walked into the room, I saw beauty so profound, I hadn't thought it existed.
I think your heartbeat is the prettiest.
You might think of me as gruesome, but this is the truth and I want to be honest. Words in their rawest written form, often hides the least.
The heart reveals more than you’d think—it’s the vessel in which human emotions manifest into a tangible form. Every heart beats differently; and yours sounds like you are fighting every moment in your life.
There it is; a courage I could never wield. (If I did, my heart would race whenever I'm with you.)
*
That day at the party was the start, wasn’t it? I see it as a fork in the road—the beginning of a romance that could withstand the test of time, or a downfall that would leave two people in tatters and never whole again.
She smiles. Jinsoul remembers the party. She didn’t think they would end up in that situation, never dared to hope Jungeun would want to kiss her. But then the bottle was spinning and there she was standing at the other end, her cheeks rosy—from the alcohol surely, Jinsoul was not naïve enough to think it was because of her.
Jinsoul remembers a raised eyebrow once the door closed, a playful unspoken: “what now?” Jungeun’s lips were blood red, a colour Jinsoul knew herself could never pull off.
She scoffs as her pen halts. Ironic; this past week had been blood staining her lips red too often. A good lipstick is a secure armour, but Jinsoul would argue Jungeun would appear fearless regardless.
She still doesn’t know where the courage to kiss the girl came from. It doesn’t matter though, it brought Jungeun into her arms, allowed Jinsoul so push her till her back was on the wall and front flushed against her own.
She pulled, reached for her waist and tucked. And she felt it, the brush of her fingers on something solid, too rough to be skin. It was more instinct than knowledge. A wooden stake. It might not kill her, a born vampire, but it would hurt nonetheless. She hesitated, but then Jungeun hands were on her cheeks, lips now firmly on hers.
The dance had started when Jungeun nodded yes to Jinsoul’s admission of wishing to kiss her again. Once began, it could not stop now.
She let Jungeun pull her in, hoisted herself up the countertop, and gasped out as Jungeun trailed kisses down her neck.
No matter the outcome, I think we are inevitable. At least, I want us to be. A little selfish, I know, and I'm sorry. I should have pulled away the moment I felt the stake tucked in your shorts. Or maybe pretended I did die from the stab.
But to resist your lips on mine seemed like a sin.
She hadn’t meant to bite Jungeun, but sometimes, desire is difficult to control. Jinsoul thinks to subdue desire would be more painful than the stake driven into her heart.
*
You know, I was so happy when you said you’d still stake me even if I didn’t bite you. (I sound crazy. Every moment with you had been crazy, another inevitability I guess.) You looked so cute then, ears red and heart running.
“Would you have staked me if I hadn’t bite you?” Jinsoul had to know, had to hear it from Jungeun herself that it was all an illusion before she could try to extinguish this weird affection she held.
“Yeah, I still would have staked you,” she spat out.
But Jinsoul was more focused on the heart. Humans hide a lot in their hearts because no one could hear, like a sanctuary inaccessible. She picked up on Jungeun’s heartbeat sped up, akin to a little hammer slamming against her ribcage, quick and light. Jinsoul knew she was lying, and couldn't help the tug at the corner of her lips.
“What?” Jungeun demanded; ears almost as red as her lips back at the party.
She wanted to laugh; Jungeun was adorable.
Bloodlust. It’s such a weird thing. It isn't the act of drinking that quenches the thirst. Sometimes, it’s the who, the what, that placates the beast. When we are together, it’s you. When we are apart, it’s still you.
Bloodlust is difficult to control, Jungeun. It burns at times, but mostly it’s like an itch at the back of the throat. It goes away briefly when you kiss me; but it doesn't really count I suppose, since everything disappears when we kiss. It all boils down to desire, I think.
Jungeun, I desire you. So much.
Sometimes, to lose yourself is to lose everything. In her case, losing herself meant giving in. But she’d rather think of it as giving herself up, to her, to belong to her even if she doesn’t get to hold any part of the girl in return. She thinks calling herself Jungeun’s is more than enough to make up for never hearing Jungeun call herself hers.
*
When you sneaked into the backyard and knocked on my room window, even in a dream, I fell in love once again. I just couldn’t believe you’d think I'm enough to risk venturing into a vampire’s home. Even in my dreams, you exist. Am I in yours too, Jungeun?
She had woken up feeling warmth all over. She hadn’t thought it was possible for a vampire. Jungeun made many things possible.
Nowadays, Jinsoul dreams of broken promises, of late-night drives and empty spaces, of tears that come too easily but cannot be wiped away.
I don’t see you in my dreams anymore. I hope you would come back. We don’t have to talk; I just wish to see you up close again.
I miss you.
*
I keep remembering those times we protected each other like lifelines. So many times, I wanted to say, “run with me, Jungeun. Run with me and don’t look back.” I wonder what would’ve happened if I did.
You are still safe with me, Jungeun.
*
And finally, Yerim. It all comes down to this, right? Jungeun, I’m sorry. (I feel like I've been saying that a lot, like I've done nothing but brought you pain.)
I'm sorry to Yerim as well, I hope she knows that. I wasn’t trying to turn her into the monster who killed her mom. I thought I simply turned her into someone like me. Not a monster, just... a vampire. No one wants to think of themselves as a monster, not even a girl who has wanted to be normal since forever.
They say your heart makes you who you are.
Jinsoul thinks a monster like herself, even with a heart—that actually beats, just tremendously slow, almost like its dying—would perhaps never understand the spirit that binds humans together. But Jinsoul can understand the vengeance, hatred and disgust—because she has seen them directed at her, at her family, at her species. She thinks it's justified: bloodsuckers who have killed, who in a moment of haste can end someone’s timeline, whose life depended on blending in with the very people they feed on.
Sometimes, Jinsoul can't help but wonder: if she didn’t bite Jungeun at the party, would she think of her less of a monster?
All I wanted was to help Yerim. I thought humans would choose to live over anything. When your timeline is that short, wouldn’t you cherish it and see it above all else? Maybe I'm wrong, I'm sorry. When you have so many millenniums, you start seeing transience as something to protect.
“You turned her into a monster!” Directed at her was an anger Jinsoul never thought Jungeun was capable of.
She remembered the tears overflowing, seemingly unending. And she understood that she’d lost the right to gently wipe them away. Jinsoul wonders which is worse: hatred or rage from a loved one. She thinks she’d rather be hated than have Jungeun be in pain.
But with the way Jungeun had held up the sliver stake against her heart, trembling—Jungeun doesn’t tremble, not even when she’s scared—Jinsoul thinks she had somehow achieved both. And when Jungeun had pledged, tone low, hatred raw, and heartbeat calm, “I will spend the rest of my life trying to figure out how to kill you, and every legacy like you,” Jinsoul thinks she has done it right then. Killed her.
I thought living as a vampire was better than not living at all, because are not all lives worth something? But maybe you were right, Jungeun. Maybe I did create a monster after all. Maybe all monsters are monsters in the end.
I really thought you would be happy to see Yerim alive. Since you didn’t see me as a monster, I thought maybe... But it doesn’t matter what I think anymore. I hurt you, caused you so much pain, and even brought your family so many problems. Perhaps the worst, I made a decision that wasn’t mine to make. Please tell Yerim that I'm sorry, that I would always be here if she needs help.
She remembered the way Yerim twitched, the gasps that reminded her of when bloodlust hits, and a grip that was desperate yet lacked the strength to convey it. She wonders if she’d be less of a monster if she had left her to die instead. Maybe it was true: she did turn Yerim into the thing that took her mother away, the very thing Yerim swore to kill.
Perhaps the simple answer—or the one that really matters in the end—is this: Jungeun and her may be inevitable, but they were never meant to be more than impermanent.
She picks up her pen.
I love you, Kim Jungeun; u ntil my time ends, but i think time had stopped moving forward for me since that night.
The next time we face each other, I hope you’d have already figure out the way to end a legacy vampire’s life. I love you, and I’ll say it to you for the last time when we meet again.
I’m glad that even as this ends, a love letter would remain.