Aftertaste | J.JK

Her Gift

My world burns black.

The colors fade away one by one until it only leaves the blistering heat of the fire, the dark crimson of blood. When I try to scream for the millionth time, nothing comes out of my dry throat.

It's like poison.

It's like he'd put poison that's turning the blood inside of me into ashes, my skin into dust. If anyone told me this is hell itself, then I would fully believe them without doubt.

The pain comes in fiery waves, before I can brace for them. I'm changing— everything that'd once defined me shifting into something more powerful, something more unnatural.

And then the pain simply dissipates like the snap of a finger.

I am vampire.

__________________________

My entire body feels refreshed as I open my eyes, although I should be absolutely exhausted from the long, terrible battle I'd just fought.

My eyes meet Jungkook.

Even though I'd been the one to have gone through more than I'd ever gone through in my entire life, Jungkook looks so drained that I would've thought that he was every step there along with me.

"Thank God," He whispers as he presses a gentle hand against my cheek. "Thank God, Elle."

"You're beautiful."

I let out a soft laugh, surprise rocking through me when I raise myself from the bed. My body feels so light— like I could easily weigh the weight of a feather.

Maybe I'd lost weight during the coma?

"Are you relieved because I'm pretty?" I say, making his face flush with red. He instantly rebukes my question as he helps me up to my feet.

"I'm relieved you made it through alive." He murmurs, embracing me to his chest. "And you somehow still smell like gardenia— which is really not helping."

I smile.

Then I tighten my grip around his figure, feeling more safer than I'd ever felt as I bury myself in his warmth. He suddenly lets out a groan, and I quickly look up in surprise.

"Jungkook?"

"Sorry," He says, looking at me with something like pride in his eyes. "It's just that— you've gotten so strong now."

"You're not really my delicate little gardenia anymore."

"I feel like you." I admit, brushing my fingertips together. "You've always had that grace, you know? Like an aura of constant elegance. Even if you tripped over your own feet, you'd still find a way to make it look beautiful."

He frowns. "I don't ever recall tripping over my own feet."

"It's because you never do."

Then the door slams open, revealing an excited vampire that I'd last seen pouring blood from a wound carved into his chest. His stunning regenerative abilities had already taken care of the slash, leaving skin as good as new behind.