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renaiswriting · 3 months

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Shadows of Desire (part 13)

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan/Reader

Summary:

You always thought the only romance you would experiment with in your life was the one between pages under the flames at midnight. That was until you found him, because the feel of his fangs digging into your neck was more than addictive.

Word count: (+) 1.7k words

Warnings: Kind of a claustrophobic moment, but I think that's it.

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Your head was pounding so badly that you thought a hammer was hitting you from the inside.

A painful cry erupted from your soul, and, from the darkness of wherever you were at the moment, a fake cooed could be heard.

You open your eyes wide open, getting even more dizziness from it. You quickly regretted the sudden movement of your neck as a sharp, burning sensation invaded you.

Your hand instinctively rose to touch the place that hurt so badly, but a hand that was not yours held it before you got the chance. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

You were in a room that was almost completely peach-black if it weren't for the vague flame next to you. The flame moved so slowly that it made scary figures in the room.

You were in bed, and your head was resting on a thin pillow, which did nothing to help the soreness on your neck.

A soft laugh echoed in the darkness: "You are truly the sleepy beauty; have anyone told you that before?"

"How long have I been sleeping?" You cleaned your throat. Mark chuckled again, walking closer to the bed with a glass full of water just for you.

"You slept for two days; if I'm honest, I'm surprised your stomach is not complaining for food by now."

"Two days?" You asked shocked, attempting to sit but failing miserably as the dizziness from your head did not seem to dissipate. "Jeonghan—"

"Who?" Mark asked when you stopped yourself. His hand touched your sweaty forehead, clicking his tongue. "You had an awful fever."

"Your hand is freezing." You complained, pushing it away from your skin.

"No, you're just burning hot."

"Where's Luke?" You asked, not putting any resistance when Mark's hands pushed your shoulders back into the bed.

"He's resting. He had been watching you almost all day; he was on the verge of passing out because of exhaustion. One of my friends is taking care of him; don't worry about it, darling."

You hummed. Your head was feeling way too dizzy for you to nod. "I still think I should go; at least I need to make sure my friends know I am fine. They're probably too worried about me."

"What friends are you talking about?" Mark asked, confused. The sides of his legs were slightly touching yours, and now that he was sitting on the bed, the coldness you felt from his hand was now embracing you from his whole body.

"I was with my friend."

"(Y/n), you were alone in the forest. near the lake. I don't know what got into you, but you almost threw yourself there. Thank God I was walking in the right place at the right time. I don't want to know what could have possibly happened to you if I hadn't."

You looked at him, confused. "No, no. I was—I remember I was feeding some cows and—"

"Cows?" Mark started laughing, taking some pieces of your hair that were starting to pickle your check and twisting them around his finger. He touched your nose with his index finger. "Aren't you the cutest when you're all confused?"

You stared at him in a mix of confusion and embarrassment.

Have you truly imagined all that?

"I'm sorry, I think I need some time alone."

"Of course." Mark smiled at you, slowly standing up from the bed and letting go of your hair.

"Where am I?" You asked before you missed the chance. No matter how much you looked around, you couldn't find any comfort in recognizing something.

"My house—my parents house. It's closer to the lake, so I thought it would be safer to take you here."

"I'll let you rest for now; I'll bring you some food." He continued after your silence, and before he could get out of the room, he turned to you, making more eye contact. "And stop overworking that mind of yours. I mean it."

You let out a not-so-quiet sigh, your fingers gently massaging the sting of your eyelids.

Your head ached every time you moved it, but you felt your body needed to stretch.

You slowly moved your legs out of the bed, stretching your back. A groan emerged from the back of your throat; you felt like absolutely shit.

Your hand held tight to the wall once you took two steps forward, feeling a dizziness wave increasing abruptly.

If you sharpened your hearing, you could hear a faint murmur beneath the floor.

There was no space to see out into the room you were in, but apparently you were on at least a second floor.

Curiousity won over you, and, losing no time, you carefully brought the candle closer to the walls, inspecting everything that caught your attention.

You spent a good five minutes trying to reach a box in a closet that was way out of your reach before your head started aching powerfully again.

Your eyes fell on your barefoot feet; you hadn't noticed until that exact moment that your shoes were nowhere to be found. It wasn't that surprising, considering that Mark had informed you that you'd been sleeping for two days, but...

You got sick of waiting for Mark, and the need to go to the toilet was growing bigger and bigger. You attempted to open the door.

but it was locked.

Stupid Mark had probably locked it by accident when he closed it. Your ears had been ringing when Mark slammed the door a little harder than it had taken to get it to close.

You leaned your ear against the door; you couldn't hear footsteps rumbling down the stairs or any mumbling from Mark that would indicate he was returning.

So you saw yourself with no choice but to start banging on the door, lazily.

"Alright, let me out." You mockingly chanted, "Ya, let me the hell out."

Nothing.

Mark was known to have a good ear. When you sneak out of the house to hang out and play as kids behind your parents' backs, Mark could always catch his mother's footsteps minutes before the woman showed up to scold him for disobeying her.

So you didn't understand what could be going on down there for Mark not to be listening.

"Mark!" you shouted, rapping harder on the door with your knuckles. The wooden door was shaking with the force you were using. You could feel your skin starting to redden, hurting you. "It's not funny!"

"Shit." You muttered, giving the door one last angry knock and bringing the candle flame to your battered knuckles, where one of them was starting to bleed.

Your heart was beginning to pound hard against your chest.

And no matter how much you were breathing, the air didn't seem to be enough to fill your oxygen-starved lungs.

Your legs began to shake, and falling to the floor, you crawled against the wall, letting it crash against your back.

Calm down.

You ordered yourself.

Calm down.

Breathe.

Control yourself.

But the words echoed in your mind; you were too panicked to comprehend them.

The door handle began to shake, making your eyes travel from the floor to the door. This one was shaking hard.

"What are you doing here?" You heard an annoyed voice say, "You're not allowed to be here now. Go away."

The door was still shaking, but underneath, you could see two shadows moving.

"What? Aren't you listening to me? I'm telling you you're not allowed to be here." The annoyed voice repeated itself.

"Are you going to stop me from eating? You're starving me."

"It's just for some time."

"You can't do this forever. You know it." The voice growled, annoyed. "My food is just behind this door, so close. It can stop the aching in the back of my throat; why are you stopping me from it?" The voice spoke, even though it sounded breathless.

You have heard the owner of that voice stamp on the wall next to the door.

When the door finally opened, the fight that had begun to occur outside the room you were locked in had long since ended.

As much as you had been needing to call out to them for help, you were afraid of those angry voices.

Mark entered the room with his hair slightly tousled and his eyes slightly darker. "Why is everything lying all over the floor?"

Mark wasn't looking at you; his eyes were closed tightly as his fingers worked rapidly at his temple, trying to calm some discomfort.

You looked around; your throat was dry again, and it hurt to breathe.

"Why was the door locked?" you asked, trying to gather saliva inside your mouth to soothe the discomfort in your throat.

"What are you talking about?" Mark replied with a sigh. "The door was unlocked."

"No." You shook your head. "It was locked. I tried to open it and couldn't."

"(Y/n)," Mark raised his head, the expression on his face making it more than clear that he was somewhat tired and annoyed at your insistence. "I just opened the door myself; I'm telling you it was unlocked."

"Why didn't you hear me? I called out to you." You lifted the bowl of soup Mark had prepared for you to your mouth. The hot broth only intensified the burning in your throat a little, but your stomach had begun to demand food, and the broth had been more than welcome.

"I had to go outside to bring some carrots for your soup." He replied, sighing. "Drink it all."

You finished drinking the soup in seconds, setting the bowl down.

Your eyes felt heavy, and your breathing was starting to calm down, becoming so calm that it was hard to hear it.

"I'm feeling a little sleepy." You mumbled because your voice couldn't find the strength to speak louder than a whisper.

"I know." Mark commented, standing up. "Sleep. It's easier to put you to sleep than to try to fight it."

You tried to answer him, but Mark's silhouette blurred, darkening until your vision was pitch black.

"(Y/N)," you heard a voice echoing in your mind." (Y/N) I need you to be aware of what is going to happen. You need to be aware of what the shadows can hide."

You looked around, trying to find where that voice was coming from, but everything was black.

"I'll come back to you." You heard. "I promise I will come back to get you out of there, but in the meantime, please be safe."

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