"What would you like?"

Vowels turned up at the ends, smile friendly. A small round glass meets a maple countertop with a clink, and Jeongguk waits, hand on one hip, notepad in the other. He knows he looks good, a faint shine on his lips from overdone chapstick. Just a light touch. Accentuation.

"I'll, uh," the man pauses, shifts the slim paper menu in-between his hands. Occasionally his gaze meets Jeongguk's, and he looks, interested. To say the least.

Jeongguk almost wishes he had let his lips be dry, shrivel up on his face and form cracks that look almost like wrinkles. Not like Jeongguk would have wrinkles. He's a 23 year old waiter. There are more stressful occupations. However, maybe if he did, he wouldn't be receiving the stare he's currently writhing under. Stares. Plural.

"I'll take the rueben, and whatever beer you recommend."

Jeongguk can smell it from here. The beer he'd had before. He reeks, and it makes Jeongguk's nose turn up. The chapstick glistens at the new angle.

The thing about alcohol, is it's great for business. Usually people who drink give Jeongguk twice the tips, partially due to his special abilities in the art of persuasion, and because alcohol makes people dumb and horny.

Meanwhile, the thing about Jeongguk is, he doesn't care what's great for business. Yeah, he likes money. He likes the extra cash he gets from a middle aged man who stumbles over his words and feet alike, as he tries to exit the bar without blowing all of his money and gaining an assault charge.

But his problem with alcohol. Is he can hear them.

He can hear them all the time.

Alcohol just makes it worse.

That sounds vague. But it's honestly exactly what it sounds like. He can hear everyone, all the time. Even when they're not talking, which is a blessing on very rare occasions, but is more often than not the worst curse Jeongguk's ever been graced with.

Especially now.

He forces on another one of those smiles, and tries not to listen too hard. If he does, he doesn't think he'll enjoy what he'd hear. Judging by looks. "We have a range of IPA's. It depends on your preference."

His tone is sickly sweet, and he slowly writes down the sandwich name on his notepad. The man's yellowed teeth poke out from between his lips in a slight smirk, and Jeongguk thinks he's going to be sick. Minus the sweet.

"Well, sugar, what do you prefer-"

Jeongguk feels a flash of anger. He knows the customer is supposed to always be right, and Namjoon would seriously murder him if he caught him talking to anyone this way, but, "I'd prefer for you to get the fuck out of this restaurant and never call me that again-"

"Woah, you're a feisty one," the smirk grows even further, and Jeongguk can see he's missing one of his front teeth. There are things he hates about the south, and the older men just so happen to be number one on the list, "I think I'd like to buy you a drink."

Jeongguk drops the notepad to his side, and the smile.

Who's he kidding. The smile has been gone for awhile now. It's just in this very moment that Jeongguk decides he doesn't give a fuck about what this man wanted to order.

"I don't want your drink."

His tone is a lot less nice. He usually paints it on like you would makeup, like you would chapstick. Talking slowly and with a big smile, voice pitched upwards and friendly. Inviting. Right now he sounds like somebody just spit into his bloody mary. His scrambled eggs. On his shoes or something. It's not pleasant.

And neither are the eyes he looks into. It's when a darker black melds into the brown and they narrow slightly, that the man decides to start talking.

Not that bullshit thing he's doing with his mouth. The truth. His inner words.

And Jeongguk fucking hears them.

This little fuckers lying. Just look at him. I can tell. He fucking wants it. Those eyes. They're so round and-

"Excuse me," Jeongguk mutters, winded. The air is suddenly knocked from his chest, forced from the spot.

He walks away.

Just. Like that. He was done with it, so he walked away. Held his notepad to his chest and tore the ticket off, approached the bar. Handed it to Hoseok. Promptly propped his elbows up on the dark surface, buried his face in his hands.

Because he'll never get used to it. The feeling. Of hearing what someone thinks. It's inevitable, and every time leaves him more shocked than the last. He can still hear them right now, buzzing, low voices. Some he can kind of make out.

Man. A fucking mess. I wonder what-

This bar has shitty food. I don't know why I take her here every time-

All these people are fucking hicks I wonder why I ever decided to travel South this shit is-

At the bar. Fuck, I'm not gay, but his waist. Makes me wanna leave my wife in the-

"Jeongguk?"

This voice is different. Louder, realer. It pulls his head out of his hands to face the reality of his surroundings again, fluorescents making his eyes narrow. At Namjoon. Namjoon who's standing behind the bar, looking at him with a mixture of concern and confusion.

Jeongguk still hears them, he just pushes them to the back of his mind for right now. Like background music, except it's people talking. About honest things. Non-pleasant things.

"Hey, uh," he clears his throat when his voice comes out scratchy, strained. Immediately shifts his positioning so he's no longer braced on the counter, just stands in front of it. Hands go back on hips. "What's up?"

Namjoon tilts his head. Blinks a little, like he's confused, but he doesn't want to ask. Jeongguk sure as hell doesn't want to answer. His hands carry a rag and a beer glass, and he's wiping out the insides with careful fingers. Jeongguk thinks he'd rather work behind the bar. More stares, maybe, but less voices.

"You okay? Table seven needs a-"

Jeongguk's eyes widen. Table seven is where the man sat. The man with the least of all pleasant thoughts. The one with the drink. The yellow teeth.

"Um thanks, but I actually was going to ask about that. Could someone else cover it?" His voice comes out slightly more nervous than he means it to, but he plays it off by smoothing his hands over his apron. His apron that ties around his waist, makes it look even smaller. The waist that he can hear someone thinking about right now.

He tries not to let it show on his face. The disgust, how overwhelming it is. To hear the depraved things your mind conjures up, things meant for you only- except it's like they're saying it to him.

A curse.

Namjoon blinks again. Sets the cup down on the counter. Tries not to say anything when Jeongguk's eyebrows twist up in a grimace and his hands fidget a bit more. Look more nervous. Says, "Okay, that's fine. But are you sure you're-"

"I'm sure."

He's not sure. That's why his voice sounds the way it does when he says it. Usually it's easy to pretend like everything's great, but his brain is elsewhere right now. Currently trying to decode the jumbled mess of words pouring into his ears, but also desperately trying to keep it the way it is. Jumbled. So he won't have to hear them all.

One outshine's the rest.

He's clearly not good, I wish he would take care of himself. He's looking at me with that face and his blonde hair looks so good, I wonder what it would be like to run my hands-

"Excuse me."

Again. Because that's the easiest way to get out of a situation. To get out of listening to your boss, who's like an older brother to you, fantasize about touching the newly colored hair atop your head. He just backs away from the counter, metaphorically plugs his ears, and walks out.

He hears more on his way to the door. A mixture of, where's he going, and, doesn't he work here? and, what I wouldn't give to touch his-

The doors open. He steps out of the restaurant, and immediately a weight is lifted. His chest empties, ribs sinking in relief the moment the cool air brushes his cheekbones. The moment the moon lights his chapstick up even more.

The moment he hears the silence.

He sighs. Gravel crunches under his shoes, while he walks across the yard outside of Nam's Family Diner. It's hardly a family restaurant, but if you put family in the title of anything that automatically makes it more marketable. More appealing.

Out here, he hears nothing. Just the wind, the grass. Beautiful things. Very different from the thoughts of dirty old men and the women they're with for the night. Sometimes kids come in too, but their thoughts are more annoying than they are disturbing.

He feels annoyed. Slightly disturbed. Overall just overwhelmed.

Hence the swift exit. Also hence the cigarette he fishes out of his pocket, bright cancer stick between his fingers. He lights it carefully, watches as the flame engulfs the tip. Chemicals cut into the air. The crinkling sound it makes, soothing in his brain.

It burns while it touches the insides of his lungs. Makes them fill up with something other than what's intended, rips at the edges. He winces slightly at the pain, but it all goes away when he exhales, wisps floating in front of his face, up towards the stars. The trees that line the edge of the clearing. Living in rural Louisiana has it's perks. The scenery, for one.

His quiet gets interrupted. The sound of gravel crunching from somewhere behind him, probably someone going into the restaurant. Still huffing the cigarette, he internally decides to distance himself. If he's far enough away from a person, he doesn't hear it. The buzzing.

Cutting across the grass, he pulls his car key out of his pocket with a free hand. Unlocks it before standing with his back against the sleek metal, just in case he needs to make another swift exit.

It's when his eyes leave his shoes, staring at the platforms as they shape and mold leaves under his feet, green and orange from the effects of autumn, that he sees. The source of the crunching noise, standing about ten feet away from him. Not a safe enough distance. Not heading into the restaurant either.

A boy. Man? Jeongguk's never been good at classifying people by age. This person in front of him though looks a solid 27. Maybe 28. So definitely a man. Maybe he just has boyish looks, dark hair that falls over his eyes. A nice silhouette.

But he's just standing there. He has his hands by his sides, entire face lit up like a christmas tree. The moonlight nearly reflects off of his nose, makes Jeongguk squint. His eyebrows are dark too, entire face sculpted. Expression blank. Just looking at Jeongguk. Like he wants to ask something.

"Hey there," Jeongguk starts, instincts telling him to say something. Begging. As much as he enjoys staring at this person, it was starting to get weird. Borderline creepy. Strange, to say the least.

"Um," his voice cracks a bit, and he clears his throat like he'd done before. Tonight's not the best night for him. The man tilts his head a bit at the noise, hair rustling. His pink mouth opens slightly. Lips parted. No chapstick necessary. "Is there anything you need?"

His head tilts more. That blank look he seems to have trademarked melts into sheer curiosity. His eyes sparkle, pupils fluctuating. Jeongguk wonders why his brain subtly picks up on all of these things without him having to try. Also wonders why the man takes a step closer, and the moonlight spreads out even further across his skin. He's tanned, and his complexion looks perfect. Inhumanely so.

"What are you?"

Deep. All Jeongguk can think, is deep. The voice. The question itself registers a bit afterwards, how little sense it makes, but Jeongguk's still recovering from the goosebumps sticking to his arms. He didn't even notice, but the cigarette hangs limp by his side, giving off slight amounts of smoke. Smoke he's not inhaling. A waste, but one that's for the better.

When Jeongguk takes a moment to answer, the man takes a step closer. Makes Jeongguk feel a twinge of fear in his chest. Not quite fear, but more of nerves- he's nervous. He doesn't know this person. This attractive person. Maybe Jeongguk's into mystery, maybe he's just into the dark hair dark eyes combo.

Whoever this is, they have both.

And a really confusing question. They have that too.

"Excuse me?" For the third time.

Another step. He still stares at Jeongguk, looks him up and down. Head to toe. Eyes linger on the curve of his shoulder, the dip of his collarbone that touches the night air. Jeongguk's face heats up, half embarrassment, half warmth. It's involuntary.

"You," he starts, trails off. His feet move of their own accord, one after another, getting closer. Until Jeongguk can really see his eyes, and he's not sure how he could've ever seen this person and thought the word, boy. He's not a boy. His eyes swirl, dark brown turning jet black and lighter simultaneously. Like it just keeps changing.

And then. In the blink of an eye. Of Jeongguk's eye. Actually. He blinks, lashes catching the skin of his brow bone, and then when he's back to looking again, he's right there, the sound of wind ringing in his ears.

Right there. So close, Jeongguk can feel the air he breathes. It blows against his forehead, parting sun colored locks. Height difference apparent, he tilts his chin upwards, air leaving his body altogether. All at once. He drops the cigarette on the ground.

"You're not a vampire," the man whispers, almost as if to himself. Jeongguk's eyes are wide, looking at the face that's so close to his. This person's a stranger, and a part of Jeongguk feels alarm rise in his chest, the same part of Jeongguk that curls a hand around the handle of his car door.

But the other part of him. The one that feels the utter lack of body heat this person gives off, a cold aura that smoothes into Jeongguk bones, makes him look more closely at how plump this man's lips are, how when he furrows his eyebrows in a question like he's currently doing he looks dangerously attractive. That part makes his knees nearly give out from under him. Force the tall, handsome stranger to catch him as he falls, maybe take him home. Like a fantasy. Straight from dreamland.

He doesn't fall over. Doesn't make the stranger catch him, crumple into his built arms. His arms that Jeongguk can't help but notice are built. He just leans his head back as far as possible, escaping the proximity.

"Of course I'm not a vampire," why this person would even assume that, he has no clue. Jeongguk's heard stories about them, but he's never seen a vampire in Louisiana. It's fucking Louisiana. He has no clue why anybody would willing come here either, especially someone who's interesting. Like a vampire, per say.

"I'm a waiter," Jeongguk finishes, and he watches as the man's eyes narrow slightly at the words. He exhales strongly, and the air fans out across Jeongguk's face. It smells like mint and tropical fruit. A weird combination, that somehow urges Jeongguk to add, "and my name's Jeongguk."

The man smiles. It's half assed, tilting up one side of his face and leaving white teeth behind. Teeth that Jeongguk stares at longer than he should, especially when the face they're connected too leans down a bit, close to his neck.

He inhales. Deep, through his nose. Whispers, "well Jeongguk. You smell," he breathes in again, backing up a bit afterwards this time so Jeongguk sees his eyes roll back into their sockets, content, "amazing."

Jeongguk blanches. His face drains of color, his chest drops. He tries backing away even further into the car, but the metal digs into his back, keeps him still. The man who just fucking sniffed him smiles with both sides of his mouth this time, and licks over his lips before leaning in towards his neck again.

"Like wheat, honey, and dreams-"

"Are you fucking smelling me?"

Jeongguk gathers up any courage he can, and pushes his hands between their chests. He comes into contact with the man's shoulders as he forces him backwards, and ignores the way his fingers touch hardened muscle. Jeongguk's touch deprived, sue him. Maybe that's why he wasn't automatically screaming and looking for a police officer when this man approached him. Because, put quite simply, the man is hot.

A mistake.

The man stumbles backwards, and then looks at Jeongguk with that same confused look in his eyes. The one that makes them look like they change colors. It's silent for a moment, and Jeongguk's heart pounds against his rib cage.

A soft clicking noise touches his ears. He watches the man's face flinch in time with the sound, and then he let's out an alarmed yell, because the man's in front of him again, in the blink of an eye, again, but this time Jeongguk doesn't blink. He watches. As the man supernaturally disappears and reappears, places one hand on Jeongguk's shoulder and pulls his chin in the opposite direction, and then makes like he's going to fucking bite Jeongguk in the neck.

Bile rises up Jeongguk's throat. He thrashes in the man's hold, yells when he feels cold breath hit the crook of his shoulder. The cold. That should've been a sign. Jeongguk's read articles, and every single one warns that they're cold.

Truth is, nothing could've prepared him for the real thing.

But, then it ends. The air on his skin. The heart pounding, the blinding fear. Jeongguk's yelling.

The man does that blink-of-an-eye thing again, and Jeongguk really feels stupid for not noticing before. Who this person is. What they are.

He's back to a safe distance, about ten feet away from Jeongguk. The air falls silent. Jeongguk gapes at him, him who's now hunched over, a hand over his mouth like he's disgusted with himself. His eyes close shut, and then open again, and he looks just as shocked as Jeongguk is. Just as confused.

The soft clicking noise comes again. The hand leaves, the man stands up straight. Jeongguk realizes those were probably his fangs. The same part of him that wanted to give in before thinks about how he never got to see them. A flash of disappointment.

"Please forgive me," he speaks, voice timid. A lot different from before. He no longer stares at Jeongguk like he's in some sort of trance, a drug fueled haze, just stares at him like he's a stranger. A weight lifts off of Jeongguk's chest, followed by a pang of misplaced sympathy.

"I apologize, I don't know what came over me, I-"

"It's okay," Jeongguk says quickly. He's not sure why he does, but it must have something to do with the emotion in this person's voice, how torn up he sounds. Like he genuinely means it.

Jeongguk doesn't get that a lot.

The man's eyes widen, and he looks at Jeongguk as if he were an angel. Not a cheap twenty something who just walked out of a dinky bar, smoking a cigarette. Getting surprised by weird strangers.

"It's not okay. I mean, I almost-"

"Bit me?" Jeongguk pipes up when the man trails off, clearly not wanting to reveal anything, but the problem with that is, Jeongguk already knows. He knows what he is, why he said what he said, acted the way he acted, "you're a vampire, aren't you?"

Eyes widen. His lips part in surprise, a sharp inhale. Like the one right next to Jeongguk's neck a minute ago. The one that apparently smelled good enough for him to compare it to dreams. He looks like he might deny it, but then he just stares down and solemnly nods. Like he's ashamed.

"Yeah. I just got here recently though. So I would appreciate it if you wouldn't tell anyone."

Jeongguk nods. He almost asks why, but he knows. People don't take kindly to the living dead in a place like this. Populated by hicks, old southern nobodies. Ever since vampires became something known, yet unbelievable, they also became something to fear. In the eyes of some.

Jeongguk's afraid, but he thinks a little fear never hurt anybody. That everyone needs to man up a bit sometimes. All he knows is, despite the initial impression, the rounded eyes and pleading voice of the person in front of him makes the fear fall away. Just a little bit.

Especially because it's still silent. His head. Either this man is incredible at hiding his thoughts, or he just doesn't have any. Or maybe it's a vampire thing. An I used to be dead, but now I'm not thing that keeps him from hearing them. Their truths.

"How come I can't hear your thoughts?"

He says it before he thinks. Isn't surprised when an eyebrow raises, says, "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

Jeongguk feels embarrassed. He fiddles with the car key in his hand, steps off one foot and then back onto the other. Tries to hide the slight adrenaline pumping through his veins from talking to a vampire. Someone his mother would hate. He likes honoring his mother, but when it comes to things like this, he doesn't give a fuck. Just wonders why this person seems to be demonstrating two opposite sides of a personality spectrum.

"I mean, I usually," he grapples, not sure what he's trying to explain. Honestly, everything about Jeongguk is hard to explain. He shouldn't be feeling self conscious about how unnatural he is when he's talking to a vampire. That seems ridiculous.

This vampire seems to know more than he does anyways.

"You're not human, are you?"

Eyes widen. For the millionth time. Jeongguk's mouth drops open, lips bitten red from the cold. "Well excuse me," again, he's being excused, "but I've been born and raised right here in Louisiana to two perfectly human parents-"

"Woah, I'm sorry. My intention was not to offend you," his voice is like silk, wrapping around Jeongguk's ill thoughts and smoothing them down, a warm barrier despite his cold body, and Jeongguk wonders why his tone is so proper, why he carries himself the way he does, if he was born in middle aged Europe and was turned into what he is by an equally as beautiful princess, or if he was a prince himself, "I just meant it would make sense."

Jeongguk snaps himself out of it. He needs to calm down. He needs to go inside, probably. To stop talking to whoever this is. To stop willingly seeing himself in harms way, and not try to take himself away from it.

But, he also doesn't care. He's also frustrated, and tired. Unfocused. Right now all he feels is focused, the beautiful silence that surrounds him as they talk. No extra jumbles of words in the way. To make him feel overwhelmed.

"What would?"

The man smiles a bit. Lighthearted. Despite still looking at Jeongguk like he's something he could eat, and not in the way you may think. In a blood hungry way, and maybe Jeongguk's blood really does smell like dreams to him. Appears that way.

"You being unhuman."

Jeongguk repositions himself, kicks one leg in front of the other. Starts to engage fully, attention finally only in one place. For once, he doesn't feel torn in half by all the voices. All the yelling.

"In what way?"

The man shakes his head, the dark hair moving a bit. Again. So a strand falls over his forehead, makes him look a little bit more attractive. Only makes Jeongguk look a little bit harder. Still feel that fear in his chest, it's just a little bit further away now. Mixed with something else. Maybe honey.

"Well for starters," he takes a step closer, stares at Jeongguk's face, looking less like he's in a trance, less dangerous, maybe just a little hungry, "humans usually smell like what they eat. From here, I can smell most of the people inside. Lots of grease, some ground beef here and there. A lot of that disgusting thing you guys love to drink, I think it's called-"

"Beer?"

He smiles again, teeth blinding. Jeongguk wonders what they look like when the front two canines are elongated, when they dig into someones skin and make them bleed. Maybe Jeongguk's a little depraved too.

But he doesn't feel it much. When he nods, Jeongguk lets out a small laugh, more of a giggle at the mans words. It was funny. He can't help himself. Even if he can hear his mother from beyond the grave telling him to be more careful, to go inside and get away from that filthy bloodsucker. It may be wrong, but he tells his mother to shut up for a bit.

"And second of all, you're way too beautiful to be a normal human. I've been alive for awhile Jeongguk," his heart stops when he says his name, that same silk like a bed-sheet draping over his metaphorically naked form, "and nothing's ever drawn me in quite like that. I wasn't myself."

He tries to ignore the wind swooping through his gut, licking the insides of his belly and knocking at the beat of his heart. His cheeks turn pinker, tip of his nose a pretty red color while his eyes sparkle a bit. Look at the vampire even closer.

"As flattering as that is," he bats his eyelashes a bit, does that thing he does with his chin that get's people to look at him. That gets people to think of things nobody should think of, some thoughts he welcomes and the others he tries to push out of his head. He's not sure what he's thinking right now, but he's almost totally sure that whatever it is it's something he'd welcome. "I think I'm just human. Plain old human."

The vampire smiles, sways on his feet a bit. Still looks weirdly boyish. Weirdly non-vampirish. "A shame," he whispers, soft. Jeongguk's breath does that thing again, the one where it empties, leaves him standing there struggling like an idiot.

He gets an idea. It's probably a bad one, one he should think through. This man was about to eat him not too long ago. Literally. Sink his teeth into his shoulder, drain him of his dreams in a blinding blood fueled haze. Jeongguk thinks if he did, all he'd be able to focus on would be the hands holding him as he was sucked dry. Thinks, he probably wouldn't even be mad about it.

Yeah, he should really think this through.

"Would you wanna maybe," he bites his lip, ignores the way the man's eyes linger on his mouth, "I don't know, go inside and get a drink? I work here, so I could get you a discount."

The roles have changed. Now Jeongguk's asking other people for drinks, just in a decidedly less creepy way. His lips glimmer, completely different from the yellowing beer breath of a sad old man.

The vampire sucks in a sharp breath, sounds like he regrets inhaling the air at all. A completely different person from the one before. The one that made Jeongguk scream.

"That sounds lovely. But sadly, I don't think it's the best idea."

Jeongguk frowns. Tries not to pout. He's 23, not 17.

"Why not?"

Another head shake. The eyes get more serious. Swirl a bit more like paints mixing together. Complimentary colors. "You know why."

He does. So he doesn't play dumb. Just looks down at his shoes again, at the cigarette as it still smokes slightly. Luckily doesn't catch the grass on fire, burn down Namjoon's restaurant.

"Could I at least get your name?"

A laugh escapes his mouth. The sound is nice, like a bell, and Jeongguk has a newfound appreciation for nice laughs. For nice laughs that come from deep vocal chords, that come from attractive faces with unconventional personalities. Seriously. About as unconventional as one can get.

"Taehyung," it's said through a smile, and Jeongguk returns it.

"It was nice meeting you Taehyung. You remind me, I should probably get back to work."

Taehyung's smile grows a bit, his eyebrows rise on his forehead. The moonlight still touches him everywhere. Makes Jeongguk want to touch him too.

"Probably. And again, I'm sorry about-"

"Don't worry about it."

He shouldn't say that. Especially because of what exactly happened. Taehyung could've killed him. They'd spoken but five words to each other, yet he leaned in close, and tried stealing his life force, satiating his needs until he's left with nothing but dreams, wheat and honey, and a limp Jeongguk in his arms.

But, he said he was sorry. Said he wasn't himself. And he meant it. Jeongguk knows what people sound like when they say words they mean.

Taehyung sounded that way.

So he does say it. He forgives him, plain and simple, because he thinks he deserves to be forgiven. Because Jeongguk has a sharp tongue and a sharp mind, but it's not hard to flatter him. Calling him inhumanely beautiful is just about number one on the list of things that'll make him dissolve without fail.

Especially when it's coming from a face like that.

And the face smiles. It looks weirdly innocent, and his nose scrunches a bit when he murmurs a quiet, "thank you."

Jeongguk holds onto it. The quiet. Even as he whispers back a, "good night," before he brushes past Taehyung, and walks back into the crowded bar. The voices come back, never-ending.

But he hears one above the rest of them, and it's not Namjoon's this time. Not his boss who has a crush on him.

Just a weirdo vampire, who happens to think he smells really good. Also happens to not be human, but other than that, Jeongguk can't think of a reason not to ask him for his number if he ever sees him again.

So he just grabs his notepad. Goes back to taking orders from way less attractive strangers than the one he met outside.

Jeongguk doesn't take any more breaks that night.

-
new book what u think