Eighteen

Jae

I think it’s selfish to hide things about yourself. Especially if you’re in a relationship. Essentially, you’re taking control and deciding that your desires and well-being supersede your partner’s. Seems a bit unfair.

“So what will happen if I stop?” It’s Saturday, and I’m having a consultation with the last patient on my schedule.

“Well…” I consider. “You’ll experience a noticeable difference in your energy levels and senses. Your nature is primarily human, but on the higher end of the low-level vampire spectrum. To stop drinking blood altogether will be much like going through drug withdrawal. It is something that has enhanced your body and senses for years. Ten, right?”

My patient rubs his hands into his hair, utterly stressed. He hunches, placing his elbows against his thighs. “Yeah… I started when I was twenty-one. It helped me get through my doctorate. Now that I’m with Ami… Shit. I don’t want her to know about this. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Ami is my patient’s fiancée. He intentionally hides his “other” nature from her. She’s human and he thinks it will freak her out, so he wants to stop drinking blood altogether. But that’ll be hard since he’s been doing it for so long. As a low-leveler, once you submit to that part of your nature, it’s quite difficult to turn off.

“Sometimes… I want to bite her when we’re sleeping together. I told you my teeth can actually sharpen into little points?”

“Yes, you mentioned it before. But this is nothing to be alarmed about. It’s fairly common among people in your similar circumstance.” His incisors won’t fully elongate like a ranked vampire’s, because his biology doesn’t require as much blood. My understanding is that the higher the physiological need for blood, the longer, sharper and more intense the fangs.

“Doctor Davies, I can’t. I don’t want to do that with her. She’ll freak if she knows.”

“It’s distressing, I do understand. And it is a very serious choice you’re making. You could at least try opening up to her about it? If you would like, you can even bring her to your next appointment, and the three of us can talk about it together so that I can explain your nature in detail?”

He whips his head up at me, his eyes hopeful. “Really? You would do that?”

“Of course. I’m here to support you. Having a medical professional explain that you’re not a threat, nor would you ever hurt her because of your nature, could be helpful?” I also want to say that if she does “freak out” about his true nature, perhaps he’s better off? Maybe he should find someone who truly accepts him for who and what he is?

But I don’t say any of that. It’s not my place.

“Okay…” he breathes. “Let me think about it. Thanks so much, Doctor Davies.”

“My pleasure. So does this mean you don’t want a bag this week?”

He’s still now and blinking at me. I stifle the urge to laugh. He lifts one corner of his mouth in a grin. “Ah… no, I’ll still take one. Might as well not suffer until I have to?”

“Right. Stop by Sora’s desk on your way out. She’ll schedule our next appointment and set you up with the appropriate bags.”

“Thanks, Doctor.”

When my patient is gone, I relax back in my chair and pull my mobile from my lab coat pocket. I type out a quick text and hit send.

[Shall I meet you at your shop? Or at the restaurant?]

Junichi told me that depending on how his day went, he might be running late. There’s some fancy vampire wedding event this coming week, and he’s had some last-minute alteration requests.

[Come to the shop please. I’ll be ready by the time you’re here. We can go together.]

I nod and type out my response.

[Okay. Leaving the hospital now. Going to stop home first. xx]

[ Safe travels. xx]

My gut is all twisty just thinking about him. We intended to meet up for dinner through the week, but we were both too busy.

We. Like I’m in a proper relationship. I just want that to settle for a moment and swoon.

We were going to wait until today to meet. That is, until he surprised me on Friday night. He stopped by my flat on his way to some aristocracy event, brought me a new bouquet of bird-of-paradise, then kissed me until I couldn’t breathe. When he left me standing in the foyer, I was insanely wound up.

Ironically, Lucy called me shortly after, asking if she could stay the night. My body desperately needed an outlet, but I told her I was busy to save myself from treating her like a keyhole.

I go home and change clothes before hopping on a train to Kurashiki. I have my leather rucksack with my toothbrush and a change of clothes because I’m off tomorrow and I’ve been invited to stay the night. I’m wearing another mannequin ensemble I purchased, but basic. Just a smart gray jumper and new jeans. The trainers paired with the mannequin were somewhat flashy (bright red, canvas), so I went with the same pair but in white. The shop assistant said it looked good?

Junichi’s shop is in the historical quarter of downtown Kurashiki. I love walking through this area. It’s so quaint and picturesque. When I tug the door open, a delicate little wind chime rings out. The inside of his shop is modern and clean. The walls are a blueish gray with white furniture and a modern art–looking light fixture hanging from the ceiling. It looks like a bird’s nest puffed out into a sphere.

“Jae?”

“Yep.” I hear him call my name from somewhere in the back, so I walk forward and down a narrow hallway toward him. There are stylishly framed photos of him with famous people on the walls. Some I recognize, some I don’t. There’s a framed glossy magazine cover with him on it as well. Three covers… five.

“Hello, sunshine.”

Jun is standing near a white table and organizing bits and bobs, smiling. His golden-brown skin is warm and radiant. “Hiya.” He’s less flashy today, in a simple forest-green jumper and light jeans that are all ripped up like an angry cat got at him. I guess this is fashionable? He’s still sporting delicious facial hair.

I walk over to him, and he stops what he’s doing and faces me. He grips my chin in his fingers, lifts my head and leans down into me. Reflexively, I open my mouth to him. It’s ridiculous, but he tastes incredible every time. Something about him… It’s deeply comforting to me. Familiar in a way that’s illogical—like I know him, or some aspect of him, deeply. He sighs in the kiss, as if I taste just as good to him. I hope I do.

When he lifts up, he’s still holding my chin and blinking down at me with his darker than black eyes. “Who dressed you?”

I snort in a laugh. “Me.”

“Your clothing has changed since the first few weeks we interacted. Are you making an effort for me?”

I pull my face from his grip. “Don’t point it out. It’s embarrassing.” It really is. He grabs my wrist and drags me back into him. When I’m close again, he wraps his arms around my waist.

“I love it,” he says. “It’s adorable.”

“I’m not a bloody bunny rabbit,” I say, snaking my fingers underneath his jumper at his waist. He has this short, silky-curly hair around his tight belly button, and suddenly I’m very determined to caress my fingertips against it. I’m distracted from my task when he slides his hands down to my arse and grips me against him.

“Are you sure?” He breathes a laugh, leaning into my ear and kissing me there. God… I might be a rabbit, because I could fuck him where we stand. I could fuck him on every surface in this room if he let me. No dinner. Just sex all over his studio, please, ta.

He shifts his face into me and does that thing with our noses that I love. It’s getting hot and heavy with his hands gripping and squeezing me against him, and he’s about to kiss me again, but the little wind chime at the front door rings out. He freezes and stretches his neck up like a giraffe that senses danger. “Dammit,” he breathes, then releases me and moves toward what looks like a very large walk-in wardrobe.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Takayama Junichi?”

A young person’s voice calls out from the front. Very proper. When the owner of the voice walks through the doorframe, they’re not quite what I was expecting. It’s a vampire, and his hair (I think he’s a “he”? They?) is like platinum, slicked back in a long thick ponytail. The vampire’s pale face is narrow and sharp, like a caricature of a half-moon, and their clothes look expensive but gaudy. Too many patterns.

The young vampire stares at me with blood-red eyes. Without warning, the creature opens their mouth and hisses at me, crouching slightly at the knees and bringing their hands up like claws. I take a step back because it feels like they’re about to morph into some sort of feline. I don’t think vampires can do that, but there are many things in this world that I don’t understand.