Immortal Heart |Hyunin

Control and hunger

I.N. sat in the dimly lit room, the pages of a thick, leather-bound book spread open on his lap. The soft glow of a reading lamp cast shadows across his pale face as he tried to absorb the ancient text. The book was one of many Hyunjin had left for him, detailing the history and intricacies of vampiric existence—how to control hunger, how to blend in, how to survive.

But words on a page were far less daunting than the whirlwind of emotions and instincts spiraling inside him. It had only been a few days since his transformation, and every sense felt magnified, every sound sharper, every smell intoxicating. And the hunger—no matter how much he fed, it gnawed at him, an insatiable beast lurking beneath the surface.

Hyunjin, always elusive, seemed to be constantly coming and going. His presence was cold and authoritative, leaving I.N. to fend for himself during long stretches of time. Now, once again, I.N. found himself alone. As he turned another page, the loneliness grew heavier, pressing down on him like a physical weight.

His phone lay beside him on the bed, unused since his transformation. He hadn't dared to check it, afraid of what he might see. But the longing for connection, for familiarity, became too much to bear. Tentatively, I.N. reached for it, unlocking the screen. Messages from his friends, Felix and Han, flooded the notification center, along with posts from others, tributes to his "memory."

His heart clenched as he scrolled through the messages. Felix had written a long post about their friendship, the games they used to play together, the laughter that filled their nights. Han's post was more restrained but equally heartbreaking—just a simple, "I miss you, brother."

Tears welled up in I.N.'s eyes as he read their words. The raw grief they felt was tangible through the screen. They thought he was gone forever. He wanted to reach out, to tell them he was still here—but he wasn't. Not in the way they remembered.

Overwhelmed by the sadness and isolation, I.N. stumbled out of the flat, ignoring the warnings Hyunjin had given him about staying indoors. His body felt heavy with sorrow, his mind clouded by the loss of his old life. The air outside was crisp, and the night was alive with the buzz of the city. But something inside him stirred—a sharp, burning hunger. His heart began to pound, and his breath quickened as he wandered the streets aimlessly.

The scent of blood hit him like a tidal wave as soon as he was surrounded by people—passersby, chatting, laughing, living. I.N.'s vision blurred, his senses going into overdrive. The noise was too much, the scent of their warm, pulsing blood too intoxicating. His chest tightened as his fangs ached, hunger rising like a storm within him.

He was losing control.

His hands trembled, his eyes glowing with that bright, dangerous red as he fought the overwhelming urge to sink his fangs into the nearest person. His body trembled violently, rage and hunger intertwining in a chaotic dance. He couldn't stop himself—he could feel the beast inside him clawing to the surface.

Just as he lunged forward, a powerful force yanked him back. Hyunjin appeared, his expression cold and furious as he dragged I.N. away from the crowd and back to their flat. The door slammed shut behind them, and Hyunjin pushed I.N. into a chair, glaring at him.

"What were you thinking?" Hyunjin shouted, his voice sharp with frustration. "Do you want to get yourself killed? You can't just wander around like that! Your senses are still too unstable. You could've exposed everything."

I.N. broke down, the weight of his new reality crashing down on him all over again. Tears spilled from his eyes as he curled into himself, sobbing. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I just... I couldn't stay inside anymore. I miss them. I miss my friends. They think I'm dead, Hyunjin. And I can't tell them the truth. I'm... I'm so alone."

Hyunjin's expression softened, just for a moment. He crossed the room and knelt beside I.N., pulling him gently into his arms. Despite his usual cold demeanor, there was a rare gentleness in the way he held the younger boy.

"I know it's hard," Hyunjin murmured. "But you can't go out there yet. You're not ready. If you lose control... people will get hurt, I.N. And that's something you won't be able to take back."

He stood up, helping I.N. to his feet, and guided him into his room, laying him down on the bed. "Rest," Hyunjin said softly. "You need to regain your strength. We'll figure this out, I promise."

Exhausted, both physically and emotionally, I.N. closed his eyes, his tears still wet on his cheeks. He drifted off into a restless sleep, the weight of everything hanging over him like a shadow.

As soon as I.N. was asleep, Hyunjin stepped out of the room, his face darkening with anger. He pulled out his phone, dialing a number with quick, agitated fingers.

"I can't come," Hyunjin said sharply as soon as the person on the other line picked up. "I'm busy."

The voice on the other end was loud, clearly angry, but Hyunjin wasn't interested in explanations. "I don't care," Hyunjin snapped. "Find someone else. I have more important things to deal with."

He hung up without waiting for a response, frustration radiating from him. Just as he was about to sit down, there was a knock at the door. Hyunjin sighed, running a hand through his hair, but moved to answer it.

Standing in the hallway was a delivery man, holding a large, nondescript package. Hyunjin signed for it quickly, closing the door behind him before carrying the package to the kitchen. Inside were bags of blood—enough to last I.N. for a while, at least until he could control his hunger enough to hunt on his own.

Just as he set the package down, the doorbell rang again. Hyunjin's brows furrowed in annoyance. He hadn't been expecting anyone else. He walked to the door, his hand hesitating on the handle.

He swung the door open, eyes narrowing as he stared at the figure standing on the other side. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice cold.

The visitor smirked, leaning casually against the doorframe. "I heard you might need a little help with your new project," the man said, his tone laced with amusement.