i hid a lyric in this chapter. can you find it?

this one is hard so kudos if you get it

(hint: it's from the levanter album.)

enjoy~~

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All night, alone in the quiet darkness, I guarded Minho's room, watching the rain patter on the empty street, listening to animals rustle in the forest. It was heavenly to know that he was safe inside, sound, warm, snoring softly with his face buried in the pillow. My foot tapped against the side of the house, following his heartbeat.

At 3:34 in the morning, he started to toss and turn under the covers, tears welling behind his closed eyes. What'd happened? What had I done?

Oh. He was having a nightmare.

I slipped into the room without a sound. The smell of his blood was so strong. I held my breath and knelt at the side of his bed. My poor love was crying, trembling.

His hand was laying palm up outside the covers. I reached up slowly and held it. He stopped shaking. I smiled, relieved, and kept still so I wouldn't wake him.

He floated around in unconsciousness for a few more moments, and then his eyes opened. I ducked down where he couldn't see me. I didn't want to scare him — a boogeyman clinging to his hand, shrouded in shadow.

He fell back asleep a minute later.

This was weird. It was weird and I knew it, but I didn't feel it. I straightened out and peeked at him. Peaceful. Thank God.

I climbed back out his window and crouched on the sill, head bowed. I didn't move for the rest of the night.

~ * ~

The living room at home was empty, but I could hear my family's thoughts, their breathing, scattered in the garage and kitchen and bedrooms. I spoke loud enough that Hyunjin would hear me, wherever he was.

"Hyunjinnie, code yellow."

He bounded into the room, cracking his knuckles.

I curled up on the floor, and he sat on the couch behind me, clamped onto my shoulders and rubbed. I couldn't do anything except frown and stare out the open window. I listened to a couple of wrens' minds — surprise, surprise, just more chirping.

"Are they still angry with me?" I whispered. "Are you?"

"We were talking after you left. We eventually came to the conclusion that you're brainless and cute" — he pinched my cheek — "and we can't stay mad at you."

"You should hold me accountable."

"You made a mistake. People do that sometimes. I'm not mad at you."

"Thanks, bud."

"Jesus Christ, relax yourself." He gave me a few shakes.

"Ahh, stop. I'm sorry. I was sitting weird all night."

"What were you doing? Sewing messages into his clothes?"

"What? No, I was praying."

"Ooh, what were you atoning for? Envy? Pride? Lust?" He rolled the L next to my ear. "Lust is my favourite."

"I've always been partial to wrath." Seungmin strode into the room and sat in the comfy chair. "It's less of a sin and more of an art."

"Good morning, Seungmin," I said.

"What?"

"I just said good morning."

"I'm not mad at you."

I sighed in relief.

"Are you guys talking about sin?" Haseong was helping Jeongin with his backpack. "I like sloth. It's so broad and archaic that it really cannot be defined. Also, it's an adorable fuzzy animal."

"Right on," Chan said. He and Haseong high-fived. "It's a shame all sloths are damned to hell."

"Imagine how long it'll take them to get down there," Jeongin said. We all giggled like idiots.

In grand fashion, Felix rode into the room on Changbin's shoulders. He bumped his head on the doorframe.

"Ow, shit!"

"Good morning, pups," Chan said, not looking up from his satchel. He was stuffing a set of documents into the side pocket — he had to take out a slinky to make room.

"Morning, captain." Felix patted Chan's head, and then Haseong's. "Your beatitude." He gave the rest of us a wave of his hand. "Brothers. I have a new delivery of premonitions for you. Haseong, you're first."

"Lay it on me."

"You know the racetrack over in Auburn? A horse named Rip-roarin' Razzle-dazzle is set to take a dive and break his leg. They're gonna shoot him."

Hyunjin nearly shrieked.

"Think you can get him outta there in time?" Felix asked.

Haseong rubbed his hands together, scheming. "I could sneak him out of the stable before he races. I'll have to visit Party City again. Does that work?"

"As long as you keep Rip-roarin' moving. Drop him off in Arizona — there are wild horses there." Felix turned to me. "Jisung, I dunno why you have to make everything so goddamn difficult."

"I didn't say anything!"

"Just shh. You're gonna take Minho to the meadow on Saturday and show him your sparkle."

"The meadow?" Chan said. "The one we got married in?"

"Yep." So private. So special. Perfect place for a kiss... or a brutal accident.

"The knot's back," Hyunjin said, pummelling my neck.

"Will it go wrong?" I asked quietly, peeking into his mind. Minho and I sat on the ground, my shining hand cradled in his. The vision blinked in and out a few times — it wasn't set yet.

"The chances are half-half," Felix said. "It'll get clearer as we get closer to the weekend. I'll keep ya updated." He turned to Chan. "Vernon Spiegel swallowed a whole-ass cigar. He'll be there when you get to your office."

"Oh joy." Chan slapped his forehead and adjusted his lab coat. "Just another day in the life."

"This one is for you, babe." Felix cupped Changbin's cheeks in his hands. "I saw that I was gonna fall in love with you all over again when I looked at you just now. It came true."

Changbin giggled the shrillest, happiest sound and wrapped his arms around Felix. They collapsed onto the couch in a heap. Hyunjin and I scooted over to make room for them.

"See you later, kids," Chan said, heading for the door.

"Have a good day," I called.

"I'm not angry with you, Jisungie."

I heaved another breath.

"May I walk you out, sir?" Haseong said, holding his arm out to Chan.

"Why, thank you, sir." Chan took his arm and they disappeared into the forest.

Hyunjin got up and joined our brothers, crowding toward the door.

"Wait," I whined, "I'm not loose yet."

"Don't you wanna see Minho?"

I scrambled off the floor and shoved past them.

We headed down the path and into the garage.

"Oh, right," I murmured as they climbed into the Volvo. "Can you guys take Jeongin's car?"

"Why?"

"I'm driving Minho to school."

They didn't really know what to do with that. They gave each other looks, starting to smile, and filed out of the car. Jeongin petted my head and Seungmin smirked at me.

Finally outta the friend zone, he thought. Proud of you.

"No."

Felix clapped me on the shoulder. Was just a matter of time.

"It doesn't mean anything."

Oh, on the contrary, loverboy — Felix revved the Buick's engine — it means more than you know.

~ * ~

I parked outside of Minho's house. I guess he was having a stressful morning. Inside, I heard him run down the stairs with untied shoelaces, swallow a food-bar in three bites, almost drown in tainted orange juice. I was grimacing the whole time, halfway out of the car, ready to save him from himself.

He peeked out the front window and disappeared just as fast.

He sprinted out the door — muttering swear words I'd never heard before — and stopped mid-bound, took on a flamingo's strut as he made his way to the car. Very cool, my love.

"Good morning," I said.

"Good morning," he replied.

I headed down his street, peeking at him from the corner of my eye. His hair was neat, eyes clear. The sleeves of his navy sweater were too long for him — his fingers poked out like a cat's paw. His lips were pinned up in a little smile, a smile that told me he was happy to be here, to be with me. I felt like screaming. I was so in love with him.

"Are we gonna hold hands again today?" Minho asked.

I shrugged, staring forward.

"I know you held my hand in the night."

Anxiety ripped through my insides like a bullet. Probably an overreaction. He didn't sound disgusted with me, rather teasing, playful.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I went too far."

"No, it helped. I was having a nightmare."

"I know. I was only in your room for a few minutes, I promise."

"Oh. You could have gotten comfortable."

"It felt weird to me."

I think he liked that. He smiled and wiggled his shoulders a bit. I had to bite my tongue. Some kind of romantic declaration was always halfway out of my mouth when we were together.

I wasn't surprised that people were thinking about us as we crossed the parking lot. Not all the students were as oblivious as Jessica Stanley. Most thoughts were supportive, curious, a few with a mocking edge, some even threatening. Then they were gone, lost in a swirl of other voices. I drifted closer to Minho, walked in his bubble, like I could protect him from thoughts he couldn't even hear.

There they are!

Jessica's high voice cut through the rest like a knife. She was on the other side of the lot, staring at Minho and me. We waved.

I can't believe it. Angela was right! This is so juicy. Would Minho tell me anything if I asked? I'll try anyway — in Trig, maybe, and then we can keep talking in Spanish...

Minho turned to me and narrowed his eyes at my smile.

"What?" He gasped and whispered, "Did you read her mind?"

"Maybe. She wants to know about yesterday. She's gonna ask in class."

"What does she wanna know?"

"What happened last night. Whether we're dating."

"What should I say?"

I knew I had zero control over him and his big mouth. I shrugged, trying to look impartial. "Up to you."

"So I could say that we're dating and you would be okay with that?"

"You could say we're dating but that doesn't mean we're actually dating."

Minho glared and I glared back.

He noticed Angela, sitting on a picnic table nearby, and asked me not to listen while he talked to her.

I blocked everything out, distracted myself with an angsty freshman's thoughts, a ladybug crawling up a blade of grass, and smushed my hands over my ears. It was an odd experience. I didn't like it. I wanted to know what he said when I wasn't around, a look into his mysterious, beautiful mind.

Minho finally came back to me and we headed toward his first class.

"Do you mind if I listen in on your talk with Jessica?" I asked.

"Um, why?"

"So I'll hear your answers."

"Wiseass," he coughed. "Okay, but you can't make fun of me."

I feigned offence. "I would never."

He hit my arm. It felt like the slightest breeze.

"See you later?" he said.

"Yes — meet you for lunch. If that's okay?"

"Yup." He hopped up on his toes a bit. "That's okay."

I went to my class, sat down, and stared out the window. The trees and grass and pavement and birds and air reminded me of Minho. I didn't listen to the lecture.

Once I was in English, I concentrated on Jessica's mind. She was sitting in the back of her Trigonometry classroom, watching the door like a predator lying in wait. Minho arrived and walked hesitantly to her side.

"Minho," Jessica whispered, "spill, tell me everything. What happened last night?"

"I was walking around, and I bumped into Jisung, and then we talked to you guys — thanks for instantly taking the hint, by the way — and we went to dinner."

"Sorry," she giggled. "So you guys went on a date?" Her head tilted. Wait, do gay guys even go on dates?

"It was definitely a date," said Minho.

I squeezed the bridge of my nose.

I didn't realize my teacher was calling on me until she kicked the leg of my chair.

"Tolstoy," I answered her question.

She narrowed her eyes and continued with the lecture. I tuned back into Jessica's mind.

"It'll be something," Minho deadpanned.

"So are you dating now?"

He made a face. "There's complications — regarding him being a jerk — but it's not a problem. I'm not done wooing him yet."

The headache was back.

"'Wooing,'" Jessica snickered. Does that mean something different to them? Like, a mating call?

I laughed — it cut off my teacher mid-sentence. I apologized and sank deeper in my chair.

Minho and Jessica's conversation fizzled. I kept listening, just in case she thought of another question. Or maybe I just wanted to see Minho every time she snuck a glance at him.

"Mike was talking to me earlier," Minho said when their class was over.

"Oh, my God, what did he say?!"

I stopped listening.

I waited for Minho outside his class. He walked out and smiled when he saw me. I nearly said "hallelujah" instead of "hi."

We headed for the cafeteria. He was staring down, fidgeting with his backpack strap. I broached the subject as cautiously as I could.

"So you're wooing me."

"You said you wouldn't make fun of me!"

"I'm not, I'm not — it's just a question!"

"For your information, I'm constantly wooing you. I'm never not wooing you."

"So when you tease me and confuse me and hit me, that's you trying to seduce me?"

"I'm not 'seducing' you, Jisung — I'm not a sea witch."

I rolled my eyes, trying to avoid the mental image of Minho as Ursula. "You really don't act like this with anyone else?"

"Only you," he mumbled.

I hated how much I liked that.

We were being watched in the cafeteria. Students turned their heads, thinking and whispering, as we flung imaginary cake at each other. I couldn't have cared less. I was planted solidly in this moment with Minho. I didn't think I could love his eye-smile and bubbly laugh any more than I did, and then a second passed, and I realized I had been wrong.

Minho got up, walked around the table and dropped down next to me. He yanked his chips over and started eating.

I collected myself.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Sitting next to you," he answered.

"You're so forward, how do you do that?" He had told me he didn't act this way around humans. Why was he suddenly bold when he was lunching with a vampire?

He shrugged his perfect shoulders. "I wanted to sit next to you, so I did."

Of course he did. Sitting dangerously close and he moves even closer. Everything I said was hyperbole to him, a buffer to push at.

Was it bad that I wanted him to keep pushing? I wanted him to push closer and closer until there wasn't any space left, and I wanted to be somewhere I could let him. Somewhere we would be alone.

"So about Seattle..."

He pulled his collar up around his face. "Please don't cancel."

"No, no, no, no, I'm not. I was just wondering if you were set on the 'Seattle' part of it."

His eyebrows shot up and down, a gentle intake of breath, he frowned, his mouth fell open, and he shook his head, recovering. It was fun to watch.

"I'm into whatever," he said. "But would you mind if we took my truck?"

My head tilted.

"It's just — Charlie thinks I'm going by myself. Wouldn't want to tip him off, right?"

If something went wrong while we were alone, wouldn't it be better if someone knew where he was? Whom he was with?

I looked down. "It might be good if you told him."

"Um, that would be hell, actually."

We were silent for a second, and then he lifted my chin up with the side of his finger. The tiny touch melted me.

"If not Seattle, where are we going on Saturday?"

"The weather is gonna be nice, so I thought we could do something special away from Forks. I, um, would like to show you something. It has to do with the sun and me."

He smiled. "I'm looking forward to it."

"It would still make me feel better if you told Charlie you were with me."

"Ehh, I don't want to."

I leaned toward him a bit. "For me?"

He made an angry sound but he had a big smile on his face. "I'll think about it."

"Please — it's important."

"Why is it important?"

"Because it might motivate me to bring you back." It was a stylized version of the truth. I expected him to gulp loudly, but he scoffed instead.

"Stop. You really think I couldn't survive you?"

I almost choked.

"You know what I am, Minho. You should be afraid." It was sort of a plea.

He booped my nose. Again.

"Afraid, not afraid, it's all a state of mind."

"That is factually inaccurate and you know it!"

"Accurate and inaccurate is a state of mind, too."

I shut my eyes. "Minho, what if I don't bring you back?"

When I opened my eyes, he'd leaned forward so our faces were inches apart. I breathed in a little and his smell overwhelmed me.

"Then don't bring me back."

He didn't mean it the same way I did. He just wanted me to relax. He could feel that I wasn't letting him into my world, keeping him at arm's-length because of some overarching barrier between us, and he didn't like it.

I considered it. I actually considered it. Leave worries behind, let the cards fall where they may, let him in. Fly to the blue sky where the clouds are swimming. Sit down like this again and stare into each other's eyes.

I pulled back before I could consider it any further.

"You're gonna be the death of us both," I said.

"Might as well live while we can." He puckered his beautiful lips, eyes flitting down to my mouth.

"I'm not going to kiss you," I told us both.

"Just like that wasn't a date yesterday?"

"It wasn't a date and I'm not gonna kiss you."

"Why? Tell me why."

How to put it... "There are other factors at play."

"And you're not going to tell me about them."

"I would be happy to, actually," I huffed. There was no reason to keep it from him. "Just say the word."

"The word."

"Not here."

"Fine. If not an explanation, then what should we do now?" He puckered up again. I pinched his lips, pulled gently, and he slapped my hand away, pouting.

We collected ourselves and made our way to Biology.

Mr. Banner closed the blinds and brought the TV out. I'd already watched the movie — Hyunjin had a thing for rom-coms — so I didn't have much to do other than think about Minho. He was slumped down, chin on his arms, arms folded on the table. I watched the light dance off his skin to pass the time.

A few minutes in, Minho's heartbeat spiked. Its rhythm didn't slow for the rest of class. I listened, hypnotized by the sound of it.

When Mr. Banner turned the lights on, Minho flinched, and his chair made a loud screech on the floor. Eight of our classmates thought about it, two giggled, and five turned to look at him. I looked, too. What was going on inside his head?

"Where were you before?" I asked in the hallway.

"My happy place. Walk me to Gym?"

Intriguing. "Sure."

We parted at the door. As I walked away, I looked back — to see if he was looking back at me to see if I was looking back at him — but all I saw was the door close.

I sat down next to Changbin in Spanish and shook the books out of my backpack.

"How was the drive?" I asked.

Seungmin still has work to do on the convertible. It started smelling like bread after a couple blocks.

"Sorry I kicked you guys out."

It's fine. 'S'great, actually, I got shotgun. How's Minho?

I tapped into Coach Clapp's mind. My poor Minho wasn't good at sports. He whacked himself in the face with his own racket, and my arms shot out, like I could have stopped it.

I took my hands back, played it off like I was swatting a fly. "Um. At the moment, not so good."

What happened?

"He hit himself with a badminton racket. Now Coach Clapp is telling him to stop crying."

Changbin snorted. Swear to Christ, we saw you two walking together this morning, and immediately we were like, of course Jisung picks a weird little Teletubby-looking-ass— Jisung, stop crying.

"I'm not crying, shut up." I wiped my eyes. It killed me to see him cry.

I waited for Minho outside of Gym, slumped against the building. Suddenly the door flung open — it almost squished me but I blocked it with my arm.

Minho was frantic, looking right and left and up and down. I tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around, smiled wide as he saw me. One of his eyes was still red, bothered. I reached up and gently touched his face.

"Is your eye okay, my—?" I caught myself and clenched my teeth together. I was about to call him 'my love' to his face. Stupid, beyond stupid. I prayed he didn't notice, though I'd practically shouted it.

"Is your eye okay?" I said instead.

"Um, yeah. What were you gonna say?"

"Something stupid. You don't wanna know."

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't question further. I was glad. What would happen if he knew he had already become my love? I swallowed, thinking about the implications and the truth and his life.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

"Mmhmm."

We headed toward the parking lot. He swung the car door open and got in without hesitating. I stopped for a moment to think about why that made me happy, why his comfort and trust were so important. More than important — they were all I wanted.

I climbed in and headed for Minho's house.

"Do you want to do this again tomorrow?" he asked.

I wished the answer was no, I wished I had the strength to tell him no. It didn't have to mean anything — our day together. It could have been a one-time thing.

But — Lord help me — I wanted to live out the rest of my life with today on repeat.

"All right."

He got out of the car. I stayed until he was inside, safe, and then I sped home, parked and wandered aimlessly into the house.

"There's our favourite Lothario!" Chan yelled. "C'mon over, it's your turn to pick the movie."

I suppose Minho wouldn't go to bed for a few hours. "Uh, sure. Just put on the Food Network."

I flopped down on the couch. Immediately Seungmin had his arm around me, and Felix's head was on my shoulder. We were each other's habits, century-old patterns. The TV was bright, chefs shoving and punching each other on the little rounded screen. We had bought it in the sixties and gotten attached to it.

"How'd it go with Rip-roarin'?" I asked Haseong.

"He's free. I decided to bust his friends out, too. Jisung, do you know what it feels like to run with horses as if you were one?"

"Er, no."

"It was invigorating."

"And how'd it go with Vernon Spiegel?" I asked Chan.

"He's okay, but I'm left with countless questions that will never be answered."

"That's probably for the best," Jeongin murmured.

"What about your day?" Chan asked. "What'd Minho say to the meadow?"

"I didn't pitch it very well, but he said yes anyway."

"You going to his place again tonight?"

"Yeah."

"I don't understand what you do over there," Hyunjin said. "You just — watch him? I watch Changbin when he's awake and it's boring."

"You what?" Changbin said.

"There's so much to do," I said. "His heart is incredible. His breath, too. He's a restless sleeper — his hair on the pillow is just..." My head fell back. "Perfection."

"Minho could scratch his ass and you'd think it was remarkable," Felix said. I flicked his ear. "Ow!"

"You sound pretty confident," Chan said. "Think you're getting desensitized to him?"

"It doesn't hurt as much as it did before."

"Do you still wanna kill him?"

"Sometimes." I crinkled my nose stubbornly. "But it's getting better. You did it, and I can do it, too."

"It took literally three centuries, Jisung, and I'm still not completely immune."

"Whatever. Fake it till you make it and all that. I'm thinking positive."

The room went quiet, seven pairs of eyes narrowed in my direction.

"I can think positive!" I shrieked. "I am completely capable of positive thinking."

"And we all believe in you," Chan said.

"Jury's out," Felix said. I pinched his earlobe and pulled. "Arg, Seongie, he's hurting me!"

"Jisung."

I let go of his ear.

When I checked the moon, it was nine o'clock. I clambered off the couch and ran to Minho's house. His lights were off — I leapt up to his window and slipped inside. I settled down crosslegged at the foot of his bed, head bowed again, and practiced breathing.

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when I woke up this morning I looked at the clock and LOW AND BEHOLD I was supposed to have posted ALREADY. it's been quite a morning ;-;

i feel like a bad mom because i was laughing when i retconned in that minho cried after he hit himself in the eye 😭 i'm sorry baby, i love you so much

what's YOUR favourite sin? lust is usually my choice but i'm snacky rn so i'll have to say gluttony

bye