Highness (Jeongcheol)

Seungcheol

Seungcheol had felt helpless before. He'd lost people he'd cared about. But he'd never felt this pure fury, this all-consuming frustration.

Hendrick had taken Jeonghan.

Jeonghan, who was just learning to open up again. Jeonghan, who made Seungcheol feel safe and comforted for the first time since his childhood. Jeonghan, who had stayed in this town, after over a century of running, just to remain close to him.

Hendrick had taken him.

And Seungcheol hadn't been able to do a single thing about it. Had been taken out of the running in an instant, Hendrick overpowering him without so much as a misplaced hair for his effort. The vampire had snapped Myungho's neck, and before Seungcheol could even process that, his leg had been bent, his face smashed. It was like Mingyu's attack all over again.

Except this time, Jeonghan hadn't been able to swoop in and save him.

Jeonghan had been taken instead.

Seungcheol panted from his prone position on Joshua's porch. Fuck. He needed to get up. He didn't know if walking was possible, with whatever Hendrick had done to his leg. But he could at least sit upright.

He pulled himself up into a seated position, his right leg stretched out as best he could in front of him. It hurt. Everything hurt. But it was nothing compared to the pain he'd felt at seeing Jeonghan walk away. Like having his heart ripped out of his chest. It was exactly what Seungcheol had been fearing these past three weeks. Jeonghan leaving. Jeonghan leaving him.

And Seungcheol realized he might have been able to handle it, under any other circumstances. If Jeonghan had left because he'd realized he'd needed more, realized Hyde Park wasn't enough—realized Seungcheol wasn't enough—Seungcheol could have survived that. Could have watched Jeonghan go back to his globetrotting and club-hopping and lived to see another day.

It would have hurt, yes. It would have broken Seungcheol's heart. But he could have handled it, for Jeonghan. He could handle Jeonghan leaving if it was what Jeonghan needed. But this. Jeonghan going with that piece of shit slimeball, putting himself into that psycho's hands...

Seungcheol hadn't been fooled by any of the bullshit Jeonghan had spouted at Hendrick. Jeonghan's words about Seungcheol being a pet, an easy distraction. Seungcheol knew better. Jeonghan had been protecting him. His vampire had thought he'd had to go with that fucking monster to protect Seungcheol.

Well, fuck that.

Seungcheol hadn't been able to stop his dad from dying. He couldn't prevent his mother's dementia from progressing. He couldn't keep Joshua from turning against his will.

But he could sure as shit do something about this.

So he hadn't been able to protect Jeonghan because he was human—fragile, weak, mortal. Well, then he wouldn't be human anymore.

He couldn't stop life from changing. He clearly couldn't keep bad things from happening. But he could choose what in life he wanted to focus on. He could choose what to strive for rather than against.

Seungcheol wanted love. He wanted belonging. He wanted to be understood.

And Jeonghan—weird, unhinged, fantastical Jeonghan—understood him. He let Seungcheol be the real version of himself, not just the superficial golden boy.

Seungcheol would fight for that.

"Myungho," he called, shocked by how hoarse his voice came out. "Myungho!" No answer. Seungcheol tried to move over to the vampire, to bend his right leg, but gasped when the sharp pain hit him.