Blood Sucker (WooSan)

Three

Sorry for updating this later in the day. I was painting my Woojin (formerly of Stray kids) photo cards. If you know why, you probs understand. If you don't, give Twitter a visit. But anyway I didn't like knowing I owned them, and I didn't wanna damage the environment with trash, so I painted over them so they're all pretty ✨✨. Anyway, here's the chapter.

San had a talent for avoiding people.

That's one of the many things Wooyoung noticed about him as the week drawled on. He'd also noticed that San bit his lip often, and didn't like holding eye contact.

He also noticed that San made his heart do cartwheels whenever he smiled.

This was the most frustrating experience of Wooyoung's life.

"Choi San!" Wooyoung heard from around the corner. It was Yeosang, that much was obvious. But they were supposed to be in class. And Wooyoung was going to get printing for the teacher, so he had an excuse to be here. But why were they? "I can't take your shit any longer."

"Yeosang you know just as well as I do what happened last time." San growled, voice like daggers. "I won't let myself drag him down again!"

"San, you're an idiot." Yeosang was clearly unfazed by the venom in San's voice. "He's upset."

"What?" All the anger in his voice melted away in an instant.

"He's confused, San. Wooyoung keeps looking over to you with this 'kicked puppy' sort of look. And I know it hurts you too. So stop it." Yeosang sounded exasperated at this point. Yet Wooyoung was now interested in this conversation, making the risky decision to eavesdrop.

"I never wanted to hurt him..."

"Then stop pushing him away. Face the problem San, I'm serious. Honestly at this point not even for your sake. Do it for him." Yeosang trailed off. "He was my friend too San. Don't you think it also hurts me? But I'm not going to avoid him like the plague, because I know that won't solve anything."

"But he deserves better." San sighed.

"Exactly, he does. So stop being a dick." The sound of footsteps clacking against the wooden floors of the school drifted off as Yeosang left. San followed soon after, leaving Wooyoung alone.

His voice is beautiful.

That's the first thing Wooyoung's mind bought to attention. Not that shady as heck conversation, but the fact that San's voice is warm and sweet like fresh brownies or tea.

What is wrong with me!?

Wooyoung huffed and stormed off to get the printing.

It was in break, when they were all eating lunch, that Wooyoung decided he was fed up with everything and everyone. He didn't even collect his belongings, simply standing up and storming off. He wasn't particularly phased with finding San, but he had some ideas in terms of what to look for. No one tried to stop him as he stomped into the library, going to the lady at the front desk.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have any books on elder vampires, or the Choi family?" The lady glanced up from her computer. But then her tanned complexion paled as though she'd seen a ghost. Her shaky hands began pressing the keys of the laptop, before she wrote the locations of the books and gave them to Wooyoung.

"Wooyoung?" The lady asked, shocking him. How did she know him? "This too." She gave him an old hardcover book. It had no visible title, just golden patterns indented to leather. He thanked her awkwardly, going to look for the books she'd given him. There was thankfully were only two, so he was able to borrow the books in no time. Class was about to begin at this point, so Wooyoung decided to leave Yunho responsible for his belongings and head to the roof. The breeze was calming, and not frigid like he'd feared it would be.

He opened the first book, the hardcover with the pretty indents.

It was all handwritten, in what appeared to be a diary. The script was more elegant than any handwriting Wooyoung had ever seen, and he found himself tracing the swirls with his fingertip.

My parents decided I was going to get married soon. They want our bloodline to stay pure and all, so they're gathering a collection of high-class vampire families to present their daughters to me. I wonder who they will be? I hope one of them is what my parents desire and will make them proud. I disappoint them enough with the amount of women I've already declined. Living as a member of such a prestigious family is not as easy as most would expect. I will write next when I've made my choice.

Who's book was this? Wooyoung could guess it was a vampire noble, but why was this important? The front page, where the owner's name would be, was a scribbled mess. Someone didn't want to have the book traced back to them. He flicked over to the next entry.

As if things could not get worse, I made another mistake. My family will kill me one of these days. Those women my parents arranged for me to meet? I rejected every one of them. They did not catch my eye, and all were more obsessed with my bloodline than they were about me. But someone did catch my eye. He had black hair and rather tanned skin. Apparently he's a servant of the household. He was cleaning the shelves of the room. The boy was clearly human, because one of the women tried to feast from him like an animal when he dropped a vase and cut his hand when he attempted to clean the mess. Clearly she was at the bottom of my interest list. But I stopped her. How dare she try hurt one of the servants of the household. Then he made eye contact with me and I think I felt my heart beat. I didn't know how to react, so I took him away from the savage vampires my parents expected me to show a romantic interest in and healed his hand. After I was sure he was alright I may have panicked and run away. I will attempt to speak with him tomorrow.

Well whoever this vampire was, he was a mess. Wooyoung skimmed over the next pages with amusement at the awkward writer of the diary. Then he found more that was significantly more interesting than the panic.

The boy saw me today. I made a complete fool of myself, and he helped me collect myself. He'd fallen from the rafters. The servant had been cleaning, and the vampire had been watching and fell from the rafters. He did not disclose his name, so I ended up calling him "Angel"

That was the one nickname Wooyoung refused to allow anyone to use on him, because it felt special. Like it belonged to only one person.

Wooyoung didn't want the knowledge anymore.

He slammed the book shut, breathing heavy. A headache pounded against his temples, and he wasn't functioning properly.

But that ebbing, gnawing curiosity forced him to open that book again.

Wooyoung read the whole diary, seated atop that roof.

He had to talk to San.