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Being immortal, Yuta has been given the pleasure of witnessing as time passes by him. The world is in an ongoing shifting and changing, and Yuta knows that he’ll be here for all of it—only he can die at the hands of other vampires, but the world has been growing lonely as of late. All he has anymore are those who live with him, nestled in the woods and far away from any human. The mansion is gorgeous, something that Taeil and Doyoung spent centuries building and perfecting. Yuta finds himself walking around the hallways more days than not, adding onto the paintings that decorate the place. Sometimes, Taeyong will walk beside him and compliment him on each piece. Other times, the servants of the mansion will express their adoration, although Yuta knows they’re only compelled to satisfy him.
On some evenings, Yuta will leave the mansion in search of food to bring back home. There are plenty of humans for them to feast on, even nearby. There is no need to wander far out, and nowadays, most humans are ignorant to their existence, talking of vampires like they’re a myth and have always been. For some reason, Yuta enjoys the look that humans give him once he has them cornered, desperate for blood. He isn’t out hunting for his family that much anymore—Jaehyun and Johnny are far better at it. They’re more efficient, not losing a single drop of blood or bringing too much attention to themselves.
Today is like any other day for Yuta, really, as he sits in the music room, the windows large, allowing warm sunlight to paint the walls and instruments. He lingers in the shadows, watching as Taeyong plays the cello, his eyes screwed shut. It’s a haunting sound, one that Yuta thinks reflects the life that all of them have lived thus far. Their life is destined to be lonely ones, and as they stumble across more and more vampires succumbing to death, Yuta can’t help but wonder when it’ll be their time too. Living for millennia is a long time.
“Doyoung said he wanted to add on to the auditorium,” Taeyong says, his voice heavier than the music he’s playing. Yuta shuffles where he’s sitting, frowning. All they do anymore is add more and more expansions to their home, and Yuta is certain that soon they’ll have to reach a point where there isn’t anything else to add. Everyone congregates in the same general area anyway, leaving the majority of the place untouched. Once there were more of them, there were also countless servants who occupied the space. “I tried convincing him it was pointless, but I think he’s getting tired. I suggested we move to Greece soon, we haven’t been there in a while.”
“Greece,” Yuta huffs, getting up from his spot and stretching. He’s been lounging around here for too long, perhaps he should stop by the garden. It used to look pretty, back when Johnny became fascinated with plants and begged Taeil to design a large garden that he can tend to. The servants are the ones taking care of it now. “I guess it would be different enough.”
Taeyong continues playing, barely acknowledging Yuta as he leaves the music room. A few servants linger in the hallways, sticking close to the walls, keeping in the shadows. Their eyes glow red, and yet it isn’t as intense as the pure vampires. They all stick to one another, talking in low whispers and nonsensical ramblings—Yuta can’t help but wonder what kind of conversations they have with one another, and yet he can only assume that it’s about things he would never be able to relate to. Maybe they’re lamenting on their former life. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), Yuta has only known this life.
Eventually, after wandering countless halls, Yuta finds himself in the garden, where the plants are still alive, although barely. Just enough for it to still look okay. Yuta ambles around, admiring the flowers that rustle with the slight breeze, feeling the sunlight as it burns against his skin. His attention, however, is drawn away from nature as he reaches the middle of the garden. A fountain resides here, water bubbling out of it slowly, not enough for it to look interesting. Lying beside the fountain is one of the servants, a stake through her heart. Blood pools around her, and her eyes are casted to the sky, devoid of any life—although Yuta isn’t quite sure if any of the servants here have life in them anymore. He kneels down beside the vampire, making sure that she is actually dead.
The first time Yuta stumbled across a servant having taken their own life, he cried for weeks on end in grief. He was still young back then, his fangs not fully grown, his taste for blood barely tangible. It’s just another Wednesday now.
It doesn’t take long for the other pure vampires of the house to show up, with Johnny looking the most contemplative—for this was a human that he chose to turn. He picks up her body delicately and heads off to bury her, head hung low. Yuta turns his attention to Taeil, who looks more stressed than anything.
“We haven’t been making up for all of the servants we’re losing,” Taeil hums, glancing at everyone around him. It’s true, everyone is either busy with their own interests or they wind up feasting on any human they come across. “If we’re to add on to the auditorium, we’ll need new hands to help us out. And if we’re to move locations soon, then we’ll definitely need bodies to help us with the move.”
Everyone disperses, and Yuta finds himself left with just Jaehyun, who stares at him with a raised eyebrow. “If we need more servants, you should help out more, Yuta. It’s tiring for Johnny.”
“I don’t want to just turn anyone,” he replies as he sits on the edge of the fountain, admiring the blood that stains the stone path. Jaehyun doesn’t budge from where he’s standing, arms crossed over his chest, and Yuta decides to relent. He’s far from being the strong vampire here, and the last thing he wants is getting into an argument, much less a fight. “I’ll try.”
“Taeyong talked to you about Greece, right?” Jaehyun asks as he tilts his head, and Yuta simply nods. “Maybe things will get their spark back once we move somewhere new.”
“Maybe,” Yuta says, wanting to believe it.
Humans are food, it’s just how things work. Whenever Yuta is in the city, amongst people, he keeps that in mind. Sometimes, humans are servants. Right now, as Yuta sits on the roof of a building, letting the moonlight bathe him, he’s trying to spot anyone to turn (or maybe eat—it’s been a while since he’s had fresh blood). Turning humans is an intimate process, as much as those around him like to pretend it isn’t, so despite Yuta seeing a few people walk by on the streets below, absorbed in their own lives, none of them stick out to him. Yuta sighs as he watches the moon rest in the sky, long and hazy clouds threatening to cover it up. A meal sounds good right about now.
Yuta curls up on the edge of the roof, watching a man as he hurries on by, appearing in a rush. Most humans smell the same—varying degrees of tasty and sweat. Yuta twists so he can keep watching the man as he runs by, feeling pulled towards him. He moves along the buildings, never losing sight of the man, at least, not until he lands on the next building wrongly and winds up slipping off, his attempt at grappling onto the edge of the roof a failure. The ground beneath him is hard, and Yuta groans in pain as he curls in on himself. He’s definitely felt worse pain before, from humans who were determined to wipe out all vampires or from other vampires. Yuta is about to haul himself up and return to the sky, but he lies there when he hears footsteps echoing throughout the alley. That same scent returns, wrapping around him in a delicate manner.
“Are you okay?” the man asks, and Yuta rolls over until he’s on his back, staring at the human’s face. There have been so many faces that Yuta has seen in his lifetime, but he easily sketches out this man’s face—noticeable cheekbones, strong jaw, and yet eyes that hold the most gentle of feelings. Yuta is tempted to drag the man to the ground and turn him right here and right now, but he remains on the ground, uncertain.
“Yeah,” Yuta croaks, sitting up with the help of the man, trying not to stare in too obvious of a manner. His throat is nice. The man looks up into the sky, as if trying to decipher where Yuta even fell from. He rubs his neck in faux embarrassment. “I was on the roof and just, y’know, tumbled.”
“Dude, do I need to get you to a hospital?” The man begins searching around Yuta, as if he’ll be able to pinpoint any injuries, although Yuta feels fine now. His eyes zone in onto the man’s jugular, knowing he could strike right now—his tongue flicks over his fangs, but he stops when the man pulls back to look at him with narrowed eyes.
“I’m fine,” Yuta chuckles behind his hand, glad that the man smiles at him. He gets to his feet slowly, helping the human up with him. “Where were you headed?”
“My friend’s place. There’s just… something going on,” the man hums with a shrug, taking a few steps towards the exit of the alley. “Well, I’m glad you’re alright, stranger.”
“Yuta,” he decides to introduce. The man doesn’t stop smiling.
“Yuta. I’m Mark.” And, really, maybe Yuta learning of this human’s name isn’t the best idea, but what can he do now that he knows it?
The city becomes familiar—far too familiar. Maybe on multiple nights, Yuta finds himself above all of the buildings, counting all of the humans as they pass by. Maybe on more nights than not, Yuta falls into an alley and lures Mark inside, the human all smiles—it’s just a coincidence that they keep running into each other, really. It’s just a coincidence that Yuta finds himself enjoying Mark’s company.
“Sometimes, I just walk around the city at night. To clear my head,” Mark says one night while the two of them are sitting in the park, admiring the distant stars that are barely visible anymore. Yuta, however, is paying more attention to Mark. At first, watching each time he swallowed, taking into consideration how he took his steps, analyzing the way he breathed, was all Yuta looked for. He isn’t so bothered with that anymore. “At night, it’s almost like nobody can judge me.”
“Y’know, it’s dangerous wandering around alone so late,” Yuta hums, but Mark just looks at him pointedly, grinning cheekily.
“You do the same thing, hypocrite,” he jokes, and Yuta gives a small smile as he rolls his eyes. He doesn’t know what’s overcoming him, really. Sometimes at home, Johnny and Taeyong jest far too much about how Yuta has been out and about at night lately, and Yuta used to take it all in good stride. This feels important, even if he barely knows Mark. They’re friends—at the barest level. “The friends I have now wouldn’t do this with me, just sit here. I can get it, I guess. It’s boring.”
“To them, I assume.” Yuta rests his chin in his hand, watching the way Mark pulls at his sweatpants. Knowing someone for a couple of weeks isn’t a long time—especially not to Yuta, but maybe time has wallowed away to something fruitless now. Yuta’s heart beats so slowly, something he has to strain to even feel, but the longer he listens to Mark, the more melodic it becomes. What a foolish thing—a vampire falling for a human, and yet Yuta could sit here forever listening to Mark talk about music, about work, about his friends, about the endless sky and the stretch of civilization. Mark could even be talking about something so nonsensical, and Yuta would still listen like he understands and like it’s anything remotely important. As delicious as Mark’s scent is, Yuta finds himself neglecting that.
Being at home isn’t his favorite thing, especially not now as he sits in the garden, the blood stains still there. The servants are slacking off lately, but nobody seems to have much motivation to tell them to pick up their work. Doyoung is sitting by the fountain, blueprints spread out before him. More expansions that nobody will even use. Yuta is astounded that Doyoung hasn’t driven himself mad with his constant designing. He claims if he does it enough, it’ll spark that fascination he had with architecture that consumed him decades ago. Maybe this is all they do anymore, run in circles trying to believe that something they were once passionate about still resonates inside.
“Every night it seems you head off to the cities. Now, if you were Jaehyun, I wouldn’t be so surprised. Are you feeling more hungry lately?” Doyoung asks absentmindedly, just a way to make conversation in the silence between them. Yuta tsks as he stares at the flowers around them. They’re beginning to die again.
“It gets boring around here,” Yuta sighs, plucking one of the flowers and watching as it withers away in his hold. He wants to see Mark again tonight, ease him of all of his woes. He wants Mark to curl up in his side, his body warm and sparking life into Yuta. Humans are food, Yuta knows this. And yet humans can become so much more. Doyoung just stares at Yuta like he’s said the strangest thing. “I’m turning a new leaf.”
“Right,” Doyoung drawls, turning his attention back to his work. “I guess I understand.”
That night, Yuta winds up at Mark’s apartment, face buried in his arms and unable to concentrate on the movie that he’s meant to be watching.
“What’s this?” Mark asks hesitantly, his hand warm on Yuta’s face. They’re friends, Yuta reassures himself. He knows everything about Mark, and soon, Mark will know everything about him. Perhaps they can be more, but Yuta takes solace in whatever they have right now. Mark is something new, something different from the repetitiveness that he’s lived through for centuries now. Yuta screws his eyes shut as he lets Mark admire his fangs.
After a moment, Mark pulls back. If this goes wrong, Yuta will grieve. He’s put too much thought and hope into whatever future he could maintain with Mark. The other vampires wouldn’t be so delicate with a human they want to turn, but Yuta can’t help but care. “Yeah.”
“I… this doesn’t really seem real,” Mark murmurs, admiring Yuta’s fangs again. Yuta takes Mark’s hand and places it over his chest, where his heartbeat is next to nonexistent. He can pick up on the faint changes within people, and Yuta knows that Mark is fearful before he even pulls back. Yuta bows his head, and yet Mark’s warm hands remain on him.
“You’re dear to me, Mark. I won’t eat you, I could never dream of doing so. I want to turn you, I have to admit, but I know you have a life here. That you have others.” Yuta can’t bring to open his eyes, even when Mark pulls him closer. “A vampire caring for a human, it’s funny in some way.”
“Yeah. Maybe it’s worse for a human to care for a vampire, dude,” Mark murmurs.
His apartment is Yuta’s second home, and so Yuta has grown accustomed to every corner and lick of darkness. Mark’s skin burns as he lies on his bed, dragging Yuta with him. He presses kisses along Mark’s skin, up his neck. The temptation remains, to sink his teeth in and be done, but he keeps moving. Mark is open for him, and Yuta desires nothing else.
They sit on the balcony afterwards, where the night air washes them clean. Yuta leans against the railing, admiring how Mark shuffles in his clothes, trying to keep himself warm. Mark doesn’t want to turn—is certain that he would never want to. What’s the point of a life if one is immortal anyway (and Yuta can’t even disagree). Yuta drowns in Mark’s smile, acknowledging that there will come a day where Mark will die and Yuta will not.
“I love you,” Mark says first, pulling Yuta into a soft kiss. Yuta smiles as he holds Mark close, although the two separate not long after, sitting beside one another as they trace the lights that glimmer throughout the city. Mark stares at Yuta contemplatively, and Yuta loves all of the attention. “It’s still weird, I think. I’m still trying to come to terms with it.”
“I wanted to be honest with you, Mark.” Yuta wraps his arms around himself, and Mark never looks away.
“You know, when I mentioned you to my friends, Donghyuck said he thought you seemed a little weird. Ah, wait, would you wanna meet my friends?”
Yuta spends more time away from home. Nobody ever mentions anything about it, and Yuta is grateful for that. Whenever Mark is busy, Yuta takes to feasting. There are plenty of people who wander around alone, plenty of people who seem to have no home. He cleans himself afterwards, washing away all of the blood before Mark can see—he likes to keep the reality of being a vampire more secretive. Mark already knows, he doesn’t need to see it.
Mark’s friends are also nice—Donghyuck and Jungwoo. Yuta leans against the counter in the bar they’re at tonight, watching as Jungwoo flags down the bartender to bring them more drinks, watching as Donghyuck tries to piece apart everything that Yuta says. Mark always offers an apologetic smile.
“He’s your boyfriend, I have to make sure he’s good for you,” Donghyuck huffs, handing a shot of vodka to Yuta, who takes it graciously. Mark leans over to Donghyuck, and as Yuta tries to decipher what telepathic conversation they’re having, he gives up and downs the shot. With a sigh, Donghyuck looks back at Yuta. “I guess he’s okay.”
“Can we have fun now?” Jungwoo groans, slotting himself in the middle of the group, his arms wrapped around both Donghyuck and Mark’s shoulders. Yuta lets himself get pulled into the sea of humans, all of their scents melding together. It’s distracting at first, at least, until Yuta finds himself dancing in front of Mark, only capable of focusing on him. Jungwoo and Donghyuck vanish in the crowd of people, and Mark wraps himself around Yuta.
“Your friends are cool,” Yuta hums, and Mark shrugs nonchalantly at that.
“I figured you would say that.” The words and warmth of the people around them disappears as Yuta finds himself kissing Mark. Perhaps they do this far too often, but who is he to complain?
The night melts away, and after ensuring that Mark is back in his apartment safely, he returns home. Most of the servants are asleep by now, although a few who have come along in their transformation have grown to become night owls. They linger in the different rooms, always watching from the shadows. Yuta nearly heads straight to his room, but he stops in the kitchen, where Taeil is sitting with the lights on. He’s reading a book, an old one with faded words, and Yuta doesn’t think much of it. Not until Taeil closes his book and sets it down with a thud. “You’re friends with a human, right?”
Yuta peers at Taeil, trying to piece together where the other vampire is coming from, but nothing seems particularly off. This wouldn’t be anything new—Johnny was once friends with a human. Taeyong held affections for one before. Even Taeil himself was once intertwined with the lives of mortals. “I guess you could say that.”
Taeil fiddles with his book, shoulders slumped, but he doesn’t say anything else. Yuta leaves for his room, just thankful that he at least has something to look forward to for the upcoming days—years—unlike other people here.
Maybe he’s sappy, or maybe the longer Yuta spends with Mark, the sappier he becomes. A year isn’t a long time, so Yuta hardly thinks about what comes with new years. However, he remembers their anniversary, and the joy that Mark expresses when Yuta remembers is enough of a reason for Yuta to care. A year is a long time for humans.
A year is enough time for Yuta to become familiar with what Mark’s life truly entails. He’s never taken into consideration that humans themselves could be lonely, and it only tempts Yuta a little bit—yet he still keeps to himself. Mark likes his life, his mind hasn’t changed at all, and the last thing Yuta wants is to put Mark through any unnecessary, unwanted pain.
He lies with him in his bed at night, tracing the shape of his face, memorizing each curve of his body, feeling his rapid heartbeat. The sounds of Mark’s breathing, the sounds of his blood washing throughout his body, the sounds of his blinking—it all comes together in an almost perfect harmony, and Yuta brings himself even closer to Mark, to hear it all even better, to smell him more. This moment is what Yuta breathes in, what he wouldn’t mind being locked into for millenia—eternity. He wants to devour Mark, forever cementing him as a part of Yuta. Yet he can only smile as Mark recounts something embarrassing that happened at work (only embarrassing to Mark, truthfully).
Love is what mortals feel. Yuta doesn’t have a word for the emotion that sings to him, and yet he feels content with not describing it in any way.
“Are we still thinking of moving to Greece?” Yuta asks, crouched over a fresh body. He must admit, when the blood isn’t retrieved by a different vampire, it tastes far better. Taeyong is sitting to the side, the garage empty and stale as Yuta sinks his teeth into the human’s neck. Sometimes, he can’t help but imagine that it’s Mark beneath him, how delicious he would taste, but feasting on him would simply not be enough to satisfy his urges.
“Perhaps. Doyoung has been wasting so much paper lately,” Taeyong sighs, analyzing the different things in the garage, as if he’s never seen a crowbar or a tire before. “It’s demoralizing being at home. Granted, you wouldn’t know. You're off with your human boytoy or whatever. Taeil has been rereading books and going mad, I swear. Doyoung draws until he wears himself out. Johnny has been losing servant after servant lately. Jaehyun doesn’t care to sing anymore. Apparently Kun and the others live in Greece—wouldn’t it be a breath of fresh air to get everyone together again?”
“I suppose.” Yuta pulls back from the human, watching as his withered body thumps against the floor. Taeyong is sitting beside him now, his fangs sharp as they dig into his lower lip. Maybe they’re all going mad.
“Turn that human and bring him along with us. Or do I need to do it for you?” Taeyong tilts his head to the side, and Yuta glowers, not wanting to trust any of the others with Mark—they’d probably forgo any promise and lie that an accident happened. Taeyong has always been perceptive, Yuta supposes, as he turns away from Yuta and sighs. “I’ve been trying to get back into writing, but nothing comes to mind anymore. How long do you think it has been, Yuta? Since we’ve been born?”
“I have no idea.” Yuta kicks the corpse in front of him, and he just wants to leave now. His oldest memories are so hazy that they might as well not even exist. Perhaps eventually, his memories of right now will melt away into nothing.
“I’m glad that you found something to fascinate you,” Taeyong murmurs. "At least for the time being."
Humans are cruel. Not only to other beings, but especially to one another. With the way that Mark talks about some of his coworkers, with how Donghyuck has lamented about his childhood, and the stories that Jungwoo tells about his own family, Yuta is familiar with the hatred that humans can hold for other humans. Yuta can understand on some level, vampires fight one another over territory and food, but there’s never been an anger that has run through Yuta over others. Three years of being with Mark makes Yuta reconsider everything that he has ever known about humans—things that Taeyong already knows, things that Taeil has become well versed in, things that Johnny wishes to never speak about.
It’s a night when the moon is full that Yuta grows to despise mortals. In an alley, he finds Mark and a few others, he hears real pain , the same pain that the humans he feasts on will scream and sob. The humans flee when Yuta appears, uncaring if his fangs are out, uncaring if his eyes are bloodshot.
“Yuta—” Mark gurgles, and he hovers over Mark, staring at all of the blood that spills from his gut, that rushes past his hand and stains the cement. The sight and smell almost drives Yuta crazy, but he bites his hand to stop himself from doing anything, watching as Mark pants and coughs up even more blood. His body sounds different—he sounds so weak, like at any moment his muscles will snap and everything inside of him will fall apart. Gently, Yuta holds Mark close to him, uncaring if the blood stains his body.
“Mark, please,” Yuta begs, moving his hand to where the wound is, feeling as more blood soaks his palm. It feels warm, fresh. “You’re dying.”
“I—” Mark chokes on his own blood, staring through Yuta.
“Let me turn you, Mark. I want to keep you alive—I don’t want to lose you,” Yuta pleads. “I can stop all of this pain.”
“Okay,” Mark manages to say after a moment, sounding distant. Yuta doesn’t waste any time—he can’t. His fangs dig into Mark’s neck, but he doesn’t drink any of the blood. He holds Mark down, fingers digging into the wound along his abdomen, feeling as Mark writhes beneath him, trying to scream but only choking on more blood. He isn’t sure what it feels like to turn, but some of the servants have said they would have rather died instead. Yuta screws his eyes shut, and perhaps selfishly feels glad that he doesn’t need to hear any screams.
Eventually, Mark grows still, and Yuta pulls back, hesitantly licking the blood on his hand while watching as his wounds begin fixing themselves at an inhuman speed. Yuta bows his head and speaks, even if Mark can’t hear him. “I’m sorry.”
With careful hands, Yuta picks up Mark’s limp body and flees the city.
Nobody bothers Yuta when he returns home, dropping Mark off in his room and loitering around, although it could be days before he wakes up. Yuta wants to be here, though. He wants to be the first thing that Mark sees, feels. Sometimes the other vampires check up on him, but Yuta never budges.
He’s there, leaning against his bed when Mark finally stirs, opening his eyes—a dull crimson—and Yuta reaches for him. He gives his softest smile, but it does nothing to ease the panic that Mark endures, trying to flee the room, stumbling over his own feet, before hiding himself in a corner, curled in on himself. Yuta never bothered with welcoming new servants, only Johnny really cared enough to greet them once they woke up, but this is Mark.
“It’s okay,” Yuta says in a hushed voice as he extends his hands. Eventually, Mark takes them, his skin cold. “I still love you.”
It doesn’t take long for Mark to get accustomed to the mansion, meeting all of the other vampires here. Some nights, Yuta finds Mark weeping in the garden, wishing to see his friends again, at least one last time, but Yuta knows that’ll cause more harm than good. Still, with enough pulling, Yuta gives in to every piece of Mark’s desires. He wants to make everything work for him.
They find Donghyuck and Jungwoo sitting in a park. There are missing posters hung on every other streetlight, the text on them faded and the edges torn. Yuta remains at the edge, trying to keep Mark beside him as they peer into the park. A single light is on, shimmering down onto the humans as they sit together, their voices low and indistinguishable. Humans always smell strongly to those who have recently turned. Yuta grabs Mark by the wrist and suggests they head home now, where the other pure vampires will stare at Yuta in judgment—Taeil seems to be the one who cares the least. Johnny watches him as if he already knows what the future entails. Yuta wants to go back home and curl up against Mark in his bed. They can talk about distant nothingness, and things will be okay. It’ll be like it once was.
Instead, Yuta sighs as he stands over Mark, watching as he cries and gags over a pool of blood, his nails scratching at his face until they leave red marks. He never throws up, though, and Yuta picks him up gently. “Let’s get you cleaned.”
There’s nobody left behind now at least.
Taeyong begins writing again, and Doyoung finds inspiration to create a library. It isn’t like Yuta can complain, enjoying this place that they live in now. They can move to Greece later, maybe in another century or so. Yuta spends his time with Mark, divulging in any and every hobby together. Sometimes, Yuta thinks Mark is doing fine, that he’s doing better than the other servants around here and getting accustomed to the newfound (perhaps the lack of) life, but on some nights, he sits in the garden alone. Being alone isn’t good—thoughts can fester.
Whenever there’s food, Yuta has to force Mark to eat. Sometimes, he extracts the blood himself and makes it into jelly. The other vampires whisper in disgust for all of the things that Yuta does, but he wants to spend eternity with Mark. He thinks Mark is strong enough.
“I feel so weird,” Mark murmurs as he sits on the floor of Yuta’s room, staring at himself in the full-body mirror, although he’s curled in on himself. Yuta is busy at his desk, deciding to proofread some of Taeyong’s books. Most of them are agonizing to read, filled with the most raw words that makes Yuta contemplate his own existence. He peers at Mark from over his shoulder, frowning.
“You’re spending too much time with the other turned,” Yuta says simply, watching as Mark pulls at his skin and inspects his fangs, his eyes. Upon recognizing that Yuta has said something, Mark stares up at him forlornly—Taeyong’s words read over his skin. Yuta loves him—in whatever way he is capable. “What do you mean?”
“It’s like I’m trapped,” Mark murmurs. It’s been a few years since that night. Time seems to just keep moving faster and faster. “I always have. I… I can still remember what I was like before this, sort of. This is wrong.”
“Come here,” Yuta sighs, and within an instant, Mark is at his feet. He always listens so well, compelled to bend at each of his demands, and for some reason it turns Yuta off. Still, he caresses the side of Mark’s face and stares through him. Mark’s heart doesn’t beat anymore, and Yuta is left to listen for nothing aside from his eyelids fluttering. “Things will only get better. It takes a while to get used to it.”
“Really?” Mark glances away, and Yuta pulls him into a soft kiss. Mark digs his fingers into Yuta’s arm, as if he needs to ground himself. Yuta isn’t even entirely sure if what he said is true—but Mark is different, he has to be.
“Together, we can see France, we can see Japan, we can see the beaches, the mountains, the jungles, everything. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Yuta asks as he tilts his head, and Mark nods. His eyes still have life to them—they always will, Yuta tells himself. However, Mark begins crying again, and Yuta sinks to the floor so he can hug him.
“I… I miss…” Yuta stares at the paintings on his wall—he hates hearing Mark talk about his friends, he especially hates when Mark beats himself up over them. “I miss myself. Isn’t that… isn’t that…”
“It’s okay,” is all Yuta can say.
Those who are turned never live a fraction as long as pure vampires. It feels as if Yuta has been here since the beginning of time, and he’ll be here even after the end. He’s seen servants grow hot-headed and delusional, has watched plenty of them flee and take whatever is left of their life away. Yuta knows most of the signs by now, even if he’s never paid much attention to the servants around here himself.
Mark picks at his own skin, he turns away food, he spends too long taking showers, burning off his skin. He cries every night and every morning, keeping Yuta in a distressed state at all times. Any time Yuta says something, Mark acts like he’s okay. The servants were once humans, and as much as Yuta tries to cleanse Mark of his past, his humanity never leaves him. His care for others, his care for himself and what he once was. Yuta can’t imagine a life beyond without Mark anymore—maybe he’s the one losing his mind.
He returns to his room after hunting only to find Mark there, blood staining his carpet. A stake is protruding from his chest where the blood bubbles out. Yuta stands over his body, and this time, he’s the one crying. Those turned are meant to just be bodies, temporary vampires meant to give the rest of their pathetic life up. They’re not here to be loved, definitely not here to live forever, free of agony.
Yuta wonders if perhaps vampires truly are the cruelest beings afterall.