daybreak || minsung

Chapter 17

Jisung stepped into the sunlight, and he shone like he was hiding stars under his skin.

He walked forward hesitantly, stopping every few feet to deliberate. His exposed skin — his face and neck, collarbone and forearms — glowed like prisms were ground into his very atoms. Pastel rainbows danced on the meadow floor as he made his way toward me.

I couldn't speak. This was what his soul looked like. All I could do was hold out my arms uselessly as the ground seemed to give out under my feet.

He reached the centre of the clearing, and he stood in front of me, emotions flowing across his face too quickly for me to register.

"Jisung, you're sparkling," I said lamely.

He smiled a little. "Uh-huh."

"A vampire thing?"

"Yes."

I dropped onto the ground, crossing my legs, and gestured for him to sit, too. He floated down and hugged his knees. His expression was vulnerable, his body language defensive, like he was trying to protect some raw part of himself.

"Can I...?" I reached for his arm.

He held it out, eyeing me.

I shuffled closer and examined the back of his hand. His skin played with the light as if his freckles were shards of glass, as if shredded crystals were mixed into his batter. I splayed his fingers apart and looked into the lines on his palm.

"I have two questions and I really want to ask both," I said.

"Pace yourself," he replied.

I took a deep breath. "What is this place? It's unreal."

"Haseong and Chan got married here, around eighty years ago. It's special to all of us."

"Wow," I murmured. "A vampire wedding. What does that look like?"

"Pretty much the same, except our tuxes had little pop collars and capes."

"Are you joking...?"

"I wish I was."

I smiled, picturing it. "Did anyone officiate?"

"I did."

"You what?"

"I'm an ordained minister, don't act so surprised."

"Have you ever gotten people married just for fun?"

"Maybe you would, you punk," he teased. "I take my responsibilities seriously."

I made an L on my forehead. He whacked my shoulder, glaring at me with a poorly hidden smile.

I scooted up close to him — very, very close.

"You mind if I touch your face?" I asked, pretending it wasn't weird.

His chin hopped up and down wordlessly for a second, and then he shook his head.

I touched his bumpy cheeks, his shiny nose, his dark eyebrows, ran my thumbs down the side of his face, along his jaw. I was captivated. He stared at my nose the whole time without blinking.

"Why do you sparkle like this?" I asked.

"It's a warning sign," he told me. "You're supposed to run now."

"What happens if I don't run?"

His eyebrows tilted thoughtfully. "Because it's you, nothing bad."

I smiled. "You won't put me in your cheeks and store me away for winter?"

He smiled back, but there was something heavy in his expression.