Destined {𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕊𝕌ℕ𝔾}

Chapter Sixty-Seven

Minho found himself in a forest. A forest with tall, looming trees that swooped down and bathed them in shadows. A forest so familiar, and yet so strange. The air was cold, here, even against his chilled skin. The moon was an unfamiliar shade of silver, too vibrant to be real. It hung in the sky like the tapestry in his bed chambers.

He paused; no, he didn't have a tapestry in his room. He hadn't even been in his room in weeks.

Or had it been months?

His memory blurred and fogged together, everything around him darkening until all he could see was the bright, silver moon. "It was difficult, getting you here alone." He whirled around, away from the moon until it shone at his back, though he could still feel its presence.

Chan stood several feet away from him, crimson eyes on full display; he briefly wondered why the sight surprised him. He'd seen the Vampire King so many times before – no, he hadn't. Only once before in his true form. His eyebrows furrowed, his mind whirling.

What was true, and what was false?

Chan stepped closer, the smile that flitted across his lips vanishing in the blink of an eye. He was shocked; Minho could tell. He couldn't understand why; nothing had changed. Had it? "They..." A baffled laugh escaped the King, his eyes still blown wide. "They chose you?" He shook his head, stepping closer, still.

Minho couldn't understand the fear that shot through him. Why was he afraid? "I didn't think that bastard had the guts." He sighed, his serene, beautiful face drawing nearer. His voice was so... melodic. Minho felt as though he should be remembering something, but he couldn't tell what it was.

He couldn't remember what was so... important. Was it even important?

"No matter. I can fix my plans for this." He reached out, cold, slender fingers gently cupping Minho's cheek. His eyes fluttered, but the need to remember nagged at the back of his mind, more persistent, stronger now. What was it?

"Come back to me, love. We can be happy together again. Don't you want that?" Minho nodded absentmindedly. A smile tugged at Chan's lips. "I can help you deal with this... horrible transition, better than they can. I can take all your pain away." Minho's eyes glazed over, and his head felt so heavy all of a sudden, like he wanted to sleep, to give in to the tug on his consciousness.

"Come to me, Minho. Come." Minho was halfway through a nod when the moon caught his eye again; why was it so silver? As he stared at it, a memory came crashing through, of warm, gentle touches and soft lips, twinkling eyes and a strong face.

He met Chan's eyes with a ferocity he didn't know he possessed. "No."

And then the scenery broke away into shattered little fragments, the moon disappearing as though it had not been there in the first place.

Minho's eyes slowly fluttered open. Sereneness washed over him as he stared up at the ceiling of a room, his memory still foggy. The light stung his eyes and he hissed, wincing away. He shifted and turned, a startled gasp escaping him as he was met with another sleeping face.

He blinked, jaw dropping slightly. His eyebrows furrowed as he took in Jisung's lack of shirt, his strong chest on full display. When did that happen? Jisung shifted slightly in his sleep, head lolling to the side, and the blood froze over in Minho's veins.

There, on the side of his neck, were deep puncture wounds, surrounded by black and purple bruises. He felt as though he died a little when he saw them. He'd done that. He'd done that. Tears welled in his eyes and he bit his lip to prevent a sob, gasping as his fangs pierced his own skin.

His tears were different, now; fueled by frustration and agony. His fists clenched the sheets draped over them, and he made no move to wipe away his tears as they trailed down his cheek. He couldn't take his eyes off of Jisung's sleeping face; so peaceful, and yet in so much pain.

His eyes zeroed in on his neck again; he squeezed his eyes shut, but the sight pierced him even through his closed lids, and he raised a hand to his mouth to prevent any sound from escaping. He wanted to move, to get as far away from the wolf as he could, but he was paralyzed, rooted to the spot.

He'd hurt Jisung again.

Was that all he was capable of now?

His fists clenched tighter, and he didn't even hear the ripping of the sheets until he felt his nails pressing against his palms. He clenched them tighter, allowing himself to feel every little burst of pain that came from his tightly wound fists.

He deserved it; he deserved so much more.

The door closed silently and he looked up, not even trying to hide the fact that he'd cried as Hyunsik padded into the room, face somber, yet comforting. He looked tired, too.

"You'll learn to control it, Minho," he said softly as he approached, kneeling down in front of the new vampire. His eyes were earnest and honest, and yet Minho doubted his words. His eyes slithered back to Jisung.

"I hurt him," he whispered, the words lumping in his throat; it felt worse to say them aloud. Hyunsik's smile was sympathetic as he nodded.

"You did; but you weren't in your right mind. Now, you're over your Fledgling phase. You can train, and get better." Minho shook his head; he didn't want anything to do with being a vampire anymore. It was much, much worse than he'd ever imagined. He stared down at the marks pressed into his palms; how would he ever be able to control this?

Hyunsik's features hardened, a stern gleam coating his eyes. "So, now, you can either learn to control yourself so this," he pointed directly to Jisung's neck without even looking at him, "doesn't happen again, or you can go on crying and hurting people. What's it going to be?"

Minho flinched as he turned his stare down at his hands. He knew what he had to do; he didn't know if he could bear seeing Jisung so... fragile, so wounded again. He couldn't. He nodded, though he didn't meet Hyunsik's eyes.

After several moments of silence, Minho slowly looked up. "Why... why isn't it healing?" he whispered, his hands trembling as he turned to face the werewolf again. Hyunsik sighed, features softening once more as he stood.

"That's one of the side-effects of vampire venom; it slows their healing, slows pretty much all their werewolf functions. For the next couple of hours until the venom dilutes enough and his body kicks it out, he's going to be just human."

Just human.

That sounded nice.

Hyunsik offered a sympathetic smile and ruffled his hair affectionately. "You should get some rest, too. You're going to need all the energy you can get."

A/N: I'm probably not going to be able to write another fic after October ends (I'm hoping this one is done by November 1st because ya girl can't juggle three projects at once during NaNo, helL NO), until maybe the end of December. That's such a long tiME THO- but, in case I decide to screw myself over, what type of story do y'all wanna see? I've really been in the mood to write like a zombie apocalypse fic, but idk if y'all are even into zombies, sooo

Q: Would you dye your hair if you had the chance? If so, which colour would you pick?

A: I mean, I don't really think I would because I really like my hair colour. Not to mention I'm super pale and I have like green eyes, so it's super hard to look good in a lot of colours (except really neutral colours, and I'm dirty blonde-ish so pfFFT), buuuut... If I really, really wanted to I think I'd do some kind of redish/pinkish thing because I just like that hair colour :3

Lots of love,

~Emilie