4 boys starting college just like any others their age. However things get complicated when they get involved with Minho, Felix's older brother and his friends...
Ships: Minsung, Chanlix, Seungbin & Hyunin
Updates weekly
Includes:
Gore, language, b...
The playground was empty of life except for the gentle breeze that would come by occasionally. A boy is sitting alone underneath the structure, hiding away his face with his legs curling into a ball, hiding away from the world. The gentle wind of the frosty winter air passed by the boy, and his fingers tightened against himself. Sickeningly pale fingers were shaking.
"Hey!" A cheery voice echoed through the playground.
The blond boy under the structure turned his head toward the sound of rustling leaves. There stood another boy with dark chocolatey brown hair. The way sunlight shined on his hair made it seem like a halo was resting on his head. This brown-haired boy walked closer to the shivering blond boy curled into a ball. Reaching his arm forward, the brown-haired boy opened his mouth to say something.
"I've never seen anyone with such light hair before," said the boy before his deep brown eyes started to expand, and his eyes shined brighter than before, so he continued, "Ahh! That's right. I'm Minho. How 'bout you, stranger?" Through it, the brown-haired boy, now known as Minho, kept his cheerful smile and bright eyes.
Chris's POV
My eyes wandered, scanning the figure known as Minho. Nothing about him screamed danger or anything along the line of that. Hesitantly my hand rose off its grip on my arm, ever so carefully flowing towards Minho. An intense burst of wind shot around us when his hand was grasped. Everything felt icy and cold, resulting in both of us chittering our teeth together, tightening our grasp on the hand of the other.
Within a blink of an eye, all the wind vanished, almost like it was never there. Almost. Only now did I realize the position we'd been in during the strange wind. Fingers, my fingers clasped tightly around the offering hand that was Minho's. My left hand, unknowingly to me, somehow grasped the fabric of Minho's shirt. The material underneath the grip was no doubt wrinkled. A burning feeling shot through my hand that was holding onto Minho's. Glancing towards my hand, I saw a symbol branded into the skin.
The branding mark:
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12 years ago
The breeze brushed hastily against my face. The burning in my lungs began to form, slowly rising with each step. Finally reaching the familiar sight of the playground, my feet began to come to a stop. Breathing heavily, I continued to stumble to get under the structure that was almost like a second home.
Sitting up properly into a crisscrossed position, I raised my palm, putting all concentration on my breathing. Focus, inhale, exhale, slow the breath down, shoving all of my strength into the palm of my hand. Slowly but surely, small streaks of wind began in my hand. Those small movements eventually became a tiny tornado spinning at a slow speed.
"Chris!" A voice shouted from somewhere behind with the sound of hurried footsteps approaching.
"Minho," I said calmly as the tornado faded into the air. "What trouble did you get into this time around, huh?" I asked, watching him slide beside me under the old playground structure.
"Not trouble, but something bad did happen," Minho said, looking down into his lap and fiddling with his jacket's zipper. "The halmeoni at the orphanage said I'm getting adopted soon, but the couple lives in another city," he continued.
Silence followed the air felt tense. If I didn't know better, I would've thought someone was trying to crush us with the pressure.
Minho's leaving?
What am I supposed to do without him?
Am I going to be all alone again?
These thoughts rushed through my head. All the voices disappeared when Minho told me we could be friends at this very spot four years ago. The first time anyone had willingly talked to me without running away in disgust. The first time anyone wanted to be my friend.
Almost as if he had read my mind, I felt Minho's hand slowly wrap around mine. He was an anchor to keep me grounded from falling into the abyss of loneliness.
"I don't wanna leave," I heard Minho mumble under his breath as he laid his head on my shoulder.
Minho's POV
Six years ago
"Take care of yourself, will you, Minho?" said my father of 6 years. Nodding my head in agreement, I reached for the door handle and exited the vehicle.
Stepping carefully up the stairs, I reached the school's main gate. Swarms of students were all gathered as if someone had poured honey all over the front yard and waited for the bees to come.
The sound of laughter reached me. A deep honey-like Australian voice echoed through the courtyard. Glancing through my peripheral vision, Felix, my younger brother, was laughing over something from the screen of one of his friend's phones.
Shifting my attention back to the view in front of me, I continued my walk to the front door of the building where the first years would have their classes.
Chattering filled the halls, everyone speaking about what had happened over the weekend or last-minute assignments. Continuing my walk down the right hallway to my locker came the sound of a familiar voice.
"I told you not to call me Chris," said the person whose back was turned towards me but speaking angrily towards their shorter friend.
It can't be him. Stop being so hopeful, Minho. Chris didn't have dark hair, nor did he even live in the same city anymore.
Turning away, tightening the grip on my bag, I walked towards the back exit of the school, leaving and not returning until Father came to pick us up when the last bell rang.
Chan's POV
My eyelids felt like lead. They felt so heavy that after a few attempts to open my eyes, I submitted to the exhaustion that wore on my body.
Clattering sounds came from the surrounding areas. Under my fingertips was the soothing touch of covers. Warm, velvety liquid flooded my mouth, the feeling of energy rushing back into my body. The overwhelming scent of iron and fresh coffee was all that could be smelled. Smooth, plump skin against my lips, fangs digging deeper into the skin.
My arms reached for the limb grasping onto the wrist for dear life, tilting my head slightly to get a better angle for my fangs to puncture the smooth skin. Before the fangs reached anywhere near the target, the owner of the wrist pulled away, only to be stopped by my firm grip. My lids peeled back, finally feeling free from the exhaustion from earlier. The sight before my eyes was Minho sitting on the side of the bed, looking down at me, clutching his bleeding wrist.
"Welcome back, sleepyhead," he said, smiling and tugging his wrist from my still iron grip.
"What was that? What did I just see?" I asked, still gripping tightly onto his wrist.
"Probably nothing but a memory," he paused, letting out a heavy sigh before continuing,
"I can't feel Hyunjin's energy anymore,"
————————————————————- New chapters every week on Wednesday. Until then enjoy the new chapter☺️
