(Y/N) POV:

I don't realise that at some point between being curled up with my mates I'd dropped off to asleep, only realising when I woke with a hoarse voice screaming, screaming for my parents, for them to be alive, for the weight of my mum as she'd pinned me down and shielded me in her dying moments. That phantom weight which seemed to carry on through to my conscious, suffocating, and heavy- the dream still vivid and bright in my mind, still shrouding me.

I didn't know who was on me, who's weight was comfortably sprawled on mine but I wanted...no needed it off.

"Off, off. Please off." I sob, trying to push at the arms, the limbs of whoever has curled up with me, whose splayed themselves across me.

And though my eyes are wide open I can't see anything save for the darkness that had covered my eyes when my mum's bleeding body had covered me, blocked out the sight of Chul from my eyes. Protecting me even in her last moments, her last act not only as a mother but as someone dying was to give me that final blanket of security; where she became that blanket for me.

The weight suddenly vanishes allowing my lungs to shudder and rattle as they gulp down large mouthfuls of air, trying to force my rapidly thudding heart to a state of calm. My hand rubs at my chest, trying to ease that pressure, that knot, fingers expecting to splay over a racing heart. Suddenly shocked into bolting upright when they scrabble and fail to find the soaked, warmth of my body and my sodden nightdress, finding only a blankness. A coolness.

Right. It had been a nightmare; my mind reminds me. Whispers that reassurance.

And when finally that darkness recedes, I come face to face with my own ray of constant light.

Hobi oppa's face peers worriedly at me, the soft glow of the room casting a halo around his dark hair as his reddening eyes look at me, lips twisted in a concerned frown.

"I'm fine." I say, trying to slide my eyes away from his penetrative, knowing ones.

"I never said anything." He murmurs, dark eyes still scanning me before he moves away from his protective hover over my body to lie next to me, shoulder brushing against mine.

It's silence as the two of us look aimlessly at the ceiling until he sighs and shifts, turning to face me from the side.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks gently.

I sigh, looking up.

"I don't know. It feels stupid to keep thinking about the past. Feels silly it still bothers me." I confess.

He leans forward, a quick peck against my cheek.

"Not silly or stupid." He murmurs.

I smile slightly.

"Maybe you're right." I acquiesce.

Another peck on my cheek.

"I am right." He corrects.

"I dreamt of that night again." I whisper.

He sighs.

"Talking about it must've made those memories surface again. But it is normal my love, it's not something to beat yourself over." He says softly.

Still my eyes remained on the ceiling, knowing if I face him, if I see the silent strength in them, it'll make me want to lose myself in that feeling. It'll make me silent.

And I want to tell him, tell someone.

"I dreamt of the final moments, when Chul said I'd taste delicious. When he was about to attack me but my mum was the one who got hurt instead." I speak into the silence again.

I can feel the anger and rage stir through the bond like a thundercloud of feelings, feel him shift closer.

"She covered my body with hers. Pinned me into the mattress as she bled out. And told me she loved me." I whisper, strength leaving me. verbalising the dream was draining, exhausting. It made me feel torn apart as tears trickled down and to the sides of my face. It made the ceiling blur.

There's no words, just the feeling of him trying to press himself as close as he can without touching me, but that's what I need now. I need to be held and told it wasn't my fault. That my mother didn't die in vain. That I wasn't selfish for living.

"Seokie can you hug me please?" I ask, voice thick with tears, voice pleading as my hand that's on his side, blindly reaches for him- gripping his shirt.

There's not a moment of hesitance as he sits up, drawing me up to tug into his arms, pulling me onto his lap. His hands cradle my head as it settles into the crook of his neck, another at the base of my back.

"I've got you nae sarang." He murmurs, words a promise. I continue to clutch at his shirt, feeling reassured by the physical presence of him, by the way he wraps me up close, pressing me close to him, enveloping me in that cradle his body makes for me.

"That's why you wanted my arm off. It must've reminded you." he says softly in understanding.

I nod.

"We'll help you get through this together. Your trauma, your pain, your hurt- I'll be there to help you through it all." He promises.

We sit, wrapped around each other, my legs locking around his waist for a long time. Until the dream loses its grip on me, until I slowly feel content rather than panicked. When the reassurance of my mate with me overwhelms the pain of what I'd recalled.

And then, when I lean back to shoot him a thankful smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek- I don't expect to lean back and to see his eyes flicker between red and brown. For his soft gentle smile to turn chiding and disapproving.

"Now how about we talk about the fact you left nothing but a note to say you'd left?" he asks, voice calm and controlled. But there's no hiding the tirade of feeling it rouses up and sends searing through the bond.

I stiffen, feeling the stirring of anxious panic- recalling the look he'd sported when I entered the nest.

"About that..." I begin weakly.

There's no way I'm winning this argument.

"Yes darling?" he prompts, eyes glittering and face schooled into a look of normalcy.

As if he doesn't know what he's doing, acting as if my act hadn't stirred up his instincts.

I fiddle with the shirt I was still gripping, looking down ashamedly.

"I'm sorry Hobi oppa. I thought it was better than waking any of you and worrying you. I thought I'd be back before you woke." I mumble.

He sighs, hand drawing my jaw up so I can look at him. Gone is the slight hint of those turbulent emotions and raging instincts.

"We would always be happier if you'd told any one of us. Do you know I was already looking for you in the nest, I was about to head out when you came back." He says.

Explaining the sharp alertness that had been in his eyes, the slightly dishevelled panicked state. The tight grip he'd had on the note I'd left.

I feel guilty.

And for some reason all I can think of is doing what I've seen the others do. When Tae or Minnie or Kookie or even Joonie oppa at times does when they've made a mistake- be it big or small.

The way they arch their neck towards the one telling them off, exposing the vulnerable curve of it. I don't know whether it's the right thing to do in this situation, whether I'm even meant to. But for some reason there's a niggling in my mind that urges me to, an instinctual push to just do it.

So I do.

Tilt my head back and arch my neck to Hobi oppa, feel the way the hand that had been previously cupping my nape, drop to my waist and squeeze. Maybe in warning, but I feel a sense of possessiveness emanating from the bond, a flare of surprise. And then a deep, shaky breath, the exhale brushing like a tender caress against my neck, making me shiver.

I feel his head bend, feel him nose my throat gently, pressing a chaste kiss there.

"Where did our baby mate learn this?" he murmurs, voice deep and smooth.

I shudder when he gently scrapes his teeth against the skin of my throat, a teasing trail of heat left behind.

"Saw the others do it. When they make mistakes." I breathe.

"Sweet clever mate." He mumbles.

And then his lips slowly begin to kiss at a spot on my neck, teeth scraping at it teasingly before tugging the skin between them- nibbling. There's no rush or haste, no burning scorching fire, merely a warmth- embers gaining heat and sending sparks outwards from that point where his mouth meets my throat. And gentle yet firm pressure as he suckles, taking time in leaving a fresh mark, a mark that'll be darker and vibrant and fresh compared to the others. And he lays a row of kisses on it, he raises his head- the worry and panic that had been visible earlier, now having bled out completely. He looks perfectly content and settled now, in the same way that I feel relaxed and loose in his arms, content to let him draw me closer, tucking me in. 

"A few minutes like this." He breathes.

"And then?" I ask, content to rest my head against his neck pressing a kiss to his collarbone.

"Breakfast." He says.

I smile.

"Okay." I agree.

But when we do head down for breakfast, I don't expect eyes to immediately zero in onto the darkening mark on my neck, at the end of my throat. Or for the sight to cause a mixture of reactions. Ranging from relaxed, settled and soothed to gleaming with pride and flickering red eyes that promise silently that they'll leave marks of their own.

But I'm perfectly happy to be tugged into Hobi oppa's arms at breakfast, for him to be unwilling to part as he keeps me seated on his lap. Allowing him to feed me, especially noting the slight urgent need in his eyes, and feeding him in return.

But whatever semblance of calm and normal we'd managed to settle dissipates when almost hesitantly and apprehensively Joonie oppa sets down an unmarked manila envelope onto my lap once we're in the living room.

"JB dropped it off before you came down. He wouldn't say what it is though." He says eyeing with a look of trepidation.

I grip it tightly in my hands.

Once this opens it'll be so real, painful too and there'll be no turning back either.

But it's not like I had a choice.

Not since Chul re-entered my life.

He left me with no choice but to confront my past, my pains, and my trauma.

Whether or not I was ready was a different story entirely.

One we didn't have the leisure of reading.

----

My fingers slowly go to open the envelope but before I can open it, a hand stills mine.

"Are you sure you want to? You don't have to." Kookie says softly, eyes filled with understanding- as if he knows what lies inside.

"What's the worst that can happen?" I say lightly, trying to ease the stiff thick tension.

His hand stays there, eyes searching mine.

I nod.

"It's okay Koo." I whisper.

His hand lifts and my hand goes to open the envelope to slide the papers out, eyes catching onto the sight of my parents at the front- a normal photo, one where they're smiling and laughing. A photo that reminds me that they once lived, laughed, and loved.

"Your mother's beautiful." Jinnie oppa says, voice warm- fingers brushing against mine as he leans in to look at the photo.

Is beautiful. As if she still exists. As if she's been immortalised- the photo capturing her in her bright beautiful youth and kept her like that.

"She loved to play dress-up. Never minded if I ruined her lipsticks or tore the hem of her dresses accidentally at times." I say, feeling my lips twist up in fond remembrance even as my heart burns and weeps tears of blood in agony. In recalling she wasn't here.

"Your dad looks like the luckiest man alive. He is to have had her and you both." Minnie says, peering over my shoulder from where he'd tugged me onto his lap, softly speaking but his words wrap around my heart with a thick comfort of warmth and love.

I blink past the sting in my eyes.

I don't want to cry. Not anymore.

But seeing them like this makes those feelings of longing and yearning rise up again. The plaintive wish that they could've seen me grow up.

I wonder whether how they'd have been today. How they would react to my news of having seven mates? How they would feel to see their daughter was now a vampire?

It makes me yearn to go visit them again. And I decide to. Later today.

I sniffle. Fingers brushing reverently across the photo, grazing across their faces- and for one awful wistful moment I feel as if I can feel the warmth of their faces under my touch, can feel the feelings of love and joy when the photo was taken. Feel as if I'm there too. Standing between them when I wasn't even in that picture. When I was nothing but a faraway dream.

I turn the page, turn to open the case file. 

And when I turn the pages I feel my heart clench, feel my soul shrivel and wither and feel the waves of grief crash down over me, making my shoulders curve inwards but I can't take my eyes off the pages either.

Take in each detail, each minute detail and pour over the description- the detached, professional account of their injuries, of how much blood they'd lost, of where they'd found them. Details briefly mentioning the neighbours who'd reported it.

I remember the white pallor of the next-door neighbour, as she'd rushed in the ajar door and upstairs into the bedroom. Remember her panicked, haunted scream and her call to her husband, to call for help, to call for someone. Remember how she'd sobbed with a mixture of relief and disbelief when the police and ambulance had arrived, and my mother's still lifeless body had been lifted away to reveal me. Drenched in blood, close to suffocation and yet still holding on. Crying for parents that would never respond anymore, would never scoop me up and call me baby bear as they tried to cheer my tears away.

How despite how sodden my clothes were, how I'd shivered and cowered away- tears mingling with the red, she'd been there; not letting my screams and tears scare her away, turn her away.

But she'd stayed to help. Had been the one to gently help me clean myself of the blood, hands gentle, light and somewhat familiar to the loving touch of my mum. How she'd stayed until it had been cleared I needed to be moved to stay somewhere until the case was closed.

Recall how she'd fought to stay with me until it was all sorted, until I was in their living room and safely tucked next to her.

The days she would sit with me when I'd push away my food, or when she'd hear me screaming at night.

Remember how she and her husband became the ones to raise me up and make me again, make me begin.

My fingers brush over their names.

Names familiar to me. That have never left me.

Sung Deok-mi and Ryan Gold.

The ones who pulled me out of the intricate web of nightmares and horrors and griefs. 

Who despite only having been my once friendly, bright neighbours had become my life, had become my solace and support.

I hear soft murmurs and sounds of understandings.

"Ryan and Deok-mi raised you." Yoongi oppa says, voice low and soft.

Filled with a mixture of emotions I can't decipher.

"They did." I reply.

And before I can turn the pages to the next part of the case file- I find the file gently tugged out of my grip.

"That's enough for today." Joonie oppa says, holding the file carefully in his hands, looking at me understandingly.

I let the file go.

Knowing that whatever comes next in it requires infinite strength and resolve and courage.

"Actually can we go somewhere?" I ask.

Opening old wounds opened old hurts.

And made the always present longing make my heart ache even more.

I want to visit my parents.

And this time go with my mates.

(THERE YOU GO! NOW WE HAVE THEM OPENING THE CASE FILE, WE GOT THE TALK WITH HOBI! WHICH I HOPE WAS SATISFACTORY FOR ALL OF YOU!! AND BITS AND PIECES OF THAT NIGHT BEING REVEALED! WHICH I HOPE IS JUST MAKING YOU ALL EXCITED. WE NEED THE FULL PICTURE BEFORE WE GO TO HUNT CHUL. AND NOW WE KNOW WHAT BOND (Y/N) SHARES WITH DEOK-MI AND RYAN!! THEY WERE THE ONES WHO WERE FIRST THERE, WHO HELPED HER THROUGH IT. WHERE DO THE IMS COME IN I WONDER?? MORE OF THAT COMING IN THE NEXT CHAPTER! LET ME KNOW ALL YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS ABOUT THE CHAPTER!! STAY SAFE AND TAKE CARE LOVES!!)

Nae sarang = my love in Korean

Beauty is defined not by the clothes you wear, nor the products you use, beauty isn't the physical features a person has- their height, their build, the structure of the face. True beauty is defined by your character, who you are as a person and what lies inside. Physical beauty fades with time, internal beauty shines brighter with time. Never let anyone try to define your beauty.

Borahae! 💜💜💜

PurpleQueenie <3