Skin, Wings, Fangs, Scales

Chapter VIII: Cold-blooded

Yongsun met Moon Byul's drooped eyes as the gumiho stood at her doorstep.

“What do you want, fox?”

Moon Byul's shoulders slumped, her chest rising and falling at a turtle's pace. Without admonition, she threw her weight forward.

“Gansan..” Moon Byul whispered as she leaned her forehead against the vampire's shoulder.

“What..”

The sweet silence drowned out Yongsun's growing protest.

“Can I stay the night..?” Moon Byul's voice remained soft against the storm brewing in Yongsun's gaze.

Yongsun did not move. Her eyes wandered and rambled. Then she settled on the silver streaks invading the black strands of Moon Byul's hair.

“Can't you take yourself home?”

Moon Byul yawned and replied, “I'm tired, Gansan.”

“That is not my fault,” Yongsun stated, her stance stiff.

“Of course it isn't..” Moon Byul moved closer, completely resting her cheek over Yongsun's shoulder. Even when the vampire's skin was void of warmth, it felt like home. The scent of crushed roses.. It reminded Moon Byul of death, a paradise demanding life for the price of a ticket.

“Move,” the vampire commanded with her usual stoicism. It was a wonderful evening, one she had no intention of spoiling for a fox.

“Some humans made trouble again. A bunch of kids vandalized my father's shrine..” Moon Byul's voice dampened and her speech slowed with every word.

“Out of my way,” Yongsun reiterated, this time firmer and more resolute. “If you are staying, then settle inside. Do not move anything and do not touch the bed.”

“Hmm..” Moon Byul wanted to nod her head, but she found herself too exhausted to even lift a muscle.

Hell help her. Yongsun rolled her eyes and led Moon Byul by the tie. She reached the couch and prompted the gumiho to sit down by pushing her.

Moon Byul slumped in the furniture and felt as if she was sinking.

“I have already given you my warnings. Now be a good guest and follow them.”

Yongsun turned her back on the gumiho, a little surprised by her odd behavior. But it was none of her concern, she told herself. It was not her problem to solve. She stepped outside and closed the door without looking back.

The telephone in the corner broke the quiet as it rang. Moon Byul approached like a sloth, picking up the phone to answer it.

“Hello?”

“....”

Moon Byul tilted her head at the silence that hung in the air.

“Byul!?”

Moon Byul's face twisted as Hyejin's screech echoed. She opened her mouth to speak, and drew forth a half-whispered question mixed with a groan.

“What, Hyejin?”

“What do you mean what?”

Hyejin's eyes were wide with astonishment. She could not believe this was happening.

“You're in Yongsun's apartment, right? I mean, of course, it's her telephone, but.. How on earth is this possible-?!”

A grunt ensued from Moon Byul. She placed her arm on the table for support.

“Are you okay, Byul? You sound like you're dying.”

"I-I'm f-fine..." Moon Byul's lips began to quiver, her knees weakening with every passing second. She had to scold herself. Suck it up. You'll be fine.