daybreak || minsung

Chapter 13

I dreamed of being crushed between a chainlink fence and an overwhelming gloom — unable to move, to speak, to push back. It woke me up at three-thirty in the morning. My heart pounded, tears dripped down my cheeks, onto my pillow.

My hand was lying out from underneath the blanket. When I curled my fingers, my palm felt cold, like I'd been holding hands with a block of ice...

My lips twitched up, and I fell back asleep.

~ * ~

When I woke up, my first thought was Jisung.

I couldn't help but question myself about what happened yesterday. Logic wasn't on my side, and common sense was straight-up waging war against me. Had I imagined the way he looked at me, the feeling of his skin, the way it sounded when he laughed? I just needed to get through the next hour or so without losing my mind.

I unearthed myself from the covers, sat up, and scanned my room. I knew he wouldn't still be here, but I couldn't stop myself from searching. I checked my desk, my closet, the rocking chair in the corner. I crouched down and peered under my bed, just in case.

He wasn't there. But I trusted he had been.

It was grey outside my window, and I'd never been happier to see it. He had no reason to skip school today. I dressed in warm clothes — jeans, a sweater big enough to consume me. I made my way to the bathroom and brushed my teeth thoroughly.

I zoomed down the stairs — my shoelaces almost tripping me twice — and into the kitchen. I sat down on the floor and tied my shoes, then scampered to the cabinet. I dug around for a stale granola bar and downed it in three bites, chasing it with orange juice from the carton (you have to make do with the resources you have). I sucked on a Tic Tac as I readjusted my hair for the millionth time in the toaster's reflection.

I didn't expect Jisung to arrive for a few more minutes. I got down on all fours and crawled to the front window. I lifted myself slowly and peeked out from under the curtain.

The Volvo was there.

I kept up a steady conga line of profanities as I scooped up my backpack and sprinted out the door. I galloped across the lawn, and then abruptly slowed to a cool amble as I realized he was probably watching.

I sank into the passenger seat, setting my backpack by my feet, and looked up as if I wasn't literally dying to see him. He met my eyes, smiling calmly, and I sighed in relief. He wore a white t-shirt, black bomber jacket and ripped jeans. His irises were a lighter gold, I noticed — still tawny and irresistible, as always.

"Good morning," he said — a low, musical purr, and I wanted to give him my life.

"Good morning," I said instead.

He started the engine and pulled out of the driveway, catapulting us down the street. I felt the velocity force me back against my seat. I wondered if being a vampire automatically made you a ridiculously fast driver...

And then I remembered he was an actual, literal vampire, and wondered if I should be more cautious of him now...

Nah.

"Are we going to hold hands again today?" I asked, a stupid grin on my face.

He shrugged, pouting innocently.

"I know you held my hand in the night," I said then.

His eyes ticked to me. "I'm sorry, I went too far."

"No, no. It helped. I was having a nightmare."

He still looked guilty. "I know. I was only in your room for a few minutes, I promise."