Destined {𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾}

Chapter Fifteen

Minho stared at the glass door leading into his workplace, just like he had during every spare moment when he wasn't tending to a customer. He didn't know what he was expecting; or, rather, who he was expecting to walk through those doors like nothing had happened. In a way, he wanted to believe that nothing had happened.

He hadn't seen Felix much, either; a family emergency, he'd said. Despite his initial horror, over the handful of weeks that had passed since his ordeal, he'd started to notice that Jisung hadn't turned up anywhere. He never even saw him, not even on the streets, his name never mentioned in conversation.

He couldn't help the underlying worry that coated his stomach in a constant, dreadful knot, as much as he told himself that he shouldn't care. Jisung was a monster, he'd seen it with his own eyes. But... he did care, despite himself, despite his brain screeching at him to run the other way.

If Jisung walked through those doors, he reasoned, and he was fine, normal again, he'd find a way to get over it. He nodded to himself, though he knew it was a stupid bargain he wouldn't keep; people never kept their promises to themselves. He sighed softly and continued to wipe the counter. It just wasn't possible for him to just get over it.

The coffeehouse was relatively empty – it wasn't really a popular time of day for people to be there, apart from that one woman who always came for hours every day, typing on her laptop with an empty cup of coffee beside her. He shook his head, but despite himself, when the door opened and a blast of fresh air came with it, his head snapped up, hopes rising.

However, it was not Jisung who walked through those doors. He recognized the face with a sudden flash of something, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly. It almost felt like a... warning.

Chan stepped up to the counter, a small smile tilting the edges of his lips; it almost looked victorious, somehow. Minho shrugged away his feelings of foreboding and smiled. "Welcome to Starbucks, how may I take your order?"

"Tall bold, please." Minho nodded and punched it in. Chan eyed him for a moment, before he spoke, his voice dropping low. "I... heard about what happened." His eyes flashed in sympathy, and although he tensed, the brunet furrowed his brows. "You're not the first who's been... attacked, like that." It was nothing more than a whisper, but still Minho heard it loud and clear, even over the sound of blood rushing through his ears.

After a few moments, he gave in to the temptation. "What do you mean?" Maybe this was his chance to at least figure out some things about Jisung, or, well, werewolves, he supposed. It wasn't exactly common knowledge. Maybe they weren't as bad as they looked, he thought wistfully.

Chan looked around them suspiciously and leaned in closer. "It's not really safe to speak of such things here, especially in detail. You never know who's listening." He leaned back again and smiled. "After your shift, why don't we walk around, and I'll tell you about it."

Minho bit down on his lip, contemplating the offer. He doubted he'd see Jisung for a while yet – why else would he have disappeared so suddenly? And... he itched for answers. He wanted to know what was going on. Slowly, he nodded. "Alright." Chan smiled, and, with a wink, took his coffee and went to sit down at the far back of the coffeehouse.

~#~#~#~#~#~

They'd barely made it around the back of the house when the voices started. Jisung knew they were vampires; his nose twitched in disgust, and as the two quietly crept around to the front, his sharp ears caught on to what they were saying.

"Woojin, don't make this any harder for yourself." A raspy, unfamiliar voice said; undoubtedly a vampire. Woojin laughed.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Byungho. Why would I ever harbour a criminal?" The reply was smooth, easy; Jisung himself was almost convinced it wasn't a lie.

"You're a valued member of our court; and you know he's not necessarily a criminal. His Majesty simply wants him delivered, to do the job himself." Byungho huffed, and, finally, when they emerged from the side of the house, he could see him.

Byungho was not an attractive vampire; no, far from it. A deep, ragged scar travelled down more than half his face, ranging from one temple to the opposite corner of his chin. Although he stood tall and confident, as did all vampires, it was almost like he hadn't captured their eternal beauty. His eyes widened; he couldn't possibly be a Blood Child. There hadn't been one of those in centuries, he'd been told.

"Look, if you surrender the boy – don't even say you don't have him, we know of your history –, we'll disregard the fact that you murdered five of your own. I mean, I don't particularly care, but His Majesty might have something to say about you dispatching some of his strongest warriors."

Woojin's eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head apologetically. "But I don't have him. You can check the house yourself."

Now Byunho seemed to get angry. "Damn it all, Woojin!" he yelled and turned towards the handful of vampires sporting the royal seal who stood faithfully behind him. "Take him!"

Woojin barely had the time to react when they were on him in a speed so fast it could've rivalled lightening. Jisung's joints locked up, and it was only with Jeongin's quiet urgings that he continued to move.

"This is your last chance," said Byungho, "If we return you to the palace without information, His Majesty won't be as kind as us when it comes to getting his information, even if it's you. You should know that better than anyone." Woojin's face turned grave.

"I don't know where he is, Byungho. That's the truth." His voice was sombre and sharp, and his eyes flashed red. Jisung startled; how strong was Woojin, to have red eyes, even if only momentarily? Before long, the handful of vampires had disappeared, their speed transporting them to wherever they had to go quicker than his eye could see.

If he was strong enough to adorn red eyes... how could he have let them take him? He turned to face Jeongin, his eyes worried, but he stopped when he noticed the tears gleaming in the boy's eyes. "They're going to kill him. I don't have anybody now," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion, cracking slightly as he desperately attempted to blink back his tears.

Jisung couldn't help the guilt that crept up his throat. It was his fault this had happened, and he knew it. He shook his head. "When... when we get back to my pack, I'll introduce you to some wizards. They're staying with us right now." Though his voice was still raspy, he attempted to smile, to reassure the boy.

Jeongin only shook his head and sniffled. "It won't be the same."

A/N: Editing a first draft is painful.

Q: How comfortable are you speaking in front of large groups of people?

A: Considering I'm a singer in a band... I'm pretty comfortable, but as long as I've practiced enough to be confident. If I'm not confident it's very, very bad

Lots of love,

~Junnie