Darker Blood

Chapter thirty-eight

Taehyung pov~

I eyed her carefully as she walked out, slow moving and stiff, her eyes slightly swollen. She glanced at me, sitting opposite me on the sofa.

"Do you want something?" I spoke softly, afraid if I said something too harsh she'd burst into tears again.

She shook her head after a long pause, staring at nothing in particular.

Everyone was quite unsure where to go from here. We know what she is, and now she knows too. We know that the Guardians want her so we're keeping her safe as best as we can so they don't kill her. I sighed to myself, locking my fingers together, letting my head drop. I'm going to kill Jungkook if I get killed as a result of this.

"It's true, isn't it?" Her voice was so soft I barely heard her speak at all.

"It's not your fault."

She sobbed, her head falling forward as more tears ran from her tired eyes. I bit my lip, glancing around nervously, wondering in an almost panicked way where Jungkook was.

"I can heal, can't I?"

I stared at her blankly, starting to fear where she was going with this. And, surely enough, as soon as I gave an approving nod she stopped sobbing and combed her hair to the side with her pale fingers. "Inori, I-"

"Let me see it."

I stood angrily. "Why do you always have to push everyone so far?"

"I just want to understand what I am." Her words came out, choked in fear and helplessness.

I sighed, now sitting next to her as she fidgeted nervously. "What can you honestly expect me to do? I'm not going to beat you."

She shook her head, staring straight ahead. "No, not that." Her hand lifted up, coming to my lips. She parted them silently and I let her slide her finger over my fangs. I swallowed hard, feeling my skin become even paler and my eyes darker.

"Please." She uttered the plea, looking calmly into my hungry eyes.

I pondered on her request for a moment, knowing that Jungkook would be furious if I fed without her permission. But, here she was, practically begging me to hurt her. I licked my lips quickly, looking up and down her slim pretty figure, hunger rising in my gut. It's been nearly a day since I've fed on blood and the urge was getting harder and harder to deny.

It wasn't hard to let the beast hiding inside my soul take control. I moved close and held onto her shoulders tightly, pushing her down onto the couch, baring my fangs warningly. It wasn't too late for her to grow some common sense and back out, after all.

She didn't back down, though. She shivered and closed her eyes, just as I leant closer to bite hard into her neck. Her hands tangled in my bright hair as I bit her deeper, trembling with the usual excitement I felt when feeding, pulling harsh cries from her mouth with each determined and almost desperate suck. After a few moments she grew limp and I pulled off, breathing heavily, watching a single drop of her blood fall from my lips to splatter her pale face. She winced, bringing a cold hand up to the deep wound I'd just made, letting out a helpless sob soon after when the skin flushed over, healing itself.

I wiped my mouth, getting off her quickly. She sobbed, clinging onto my shirt for me to stay but I shoved her hands away. She isn't mine to comfort.

"Just take it away, I don't want to be like this."

"I can't." I mumbled, trying to pull away from her. It was the truth, I couldn't do anything to help her.

She gave up, sobbing hard to herself, letting go of me. I stood up quickly, wiping my mouth clean as she stayed lying on the couch. I couldn't help but look at her with pity before guilt burned into my gut and I bolted from the room without looking back.

Inori pov~

I looked down in disgust at my arms. They're tainted, every piece of me is tainted by something I can never shake off and I hate it so much.

I sobbed to myself at the memory of the encounter I forced Taehyung into this morning. He hasn't spoken to me since, and I can tell he's scared to. And as much as Jungkook is trying to help, there's nothing he can really do or say that will make a difference.

I didn't even think about it. I pulled the scissors from the desk drawer, staring long and hard at the sharp blades.

I sucked in a long breath, rolling up the sleeve of my left forearm and cut a long stripe along my extended forearm, biting down on my lip hard, blocking out the pain. As soon as the blade dragged through the skin, fresh skin washed over it. I cursed out loud, repeating the action, my own hot blood sliding down my arm. It didn't matter how many times I cut that same spot or how deep I cut, it washed over. Then it hit me.

That stupid birthmark on my stomach.

I ripped up my shirt with trembling pale hands, holding the scissor blade over the dot of light blue skin, bracing myself for what I was about to do. I let out a soft gasp, before plunging the blade into myself, directly over that birthmark. All I could do was scream endlessly, blinded by pain. I pulled the scissor blade out, expecting it to wash over with fresh skin like the wounds always seem to. But it wasn't.

I cupped my stomach, sobbing in pain, watching more and more blood spill from the wound I'd made. The warm prickles I felt when an injury started to heal were nowhere to be seen. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply, silently accepting what would happen to me. I pulled the blade out, digging it into the same skin on my forearm I'd tried so hard to mutilate before. Louder, more desperate and pained screams left my mouth as it dug in, exposing things that shouldn't be seen as more blood spurt out. I sobbed, pulling it out of my arm, flopping down onto the floor, clutching my arm to my stomach, shivering in pain.

Maybe it was better this way..