♬ ✧ YOU HAVEN’T AGED A DAY
jaeyong feels like the luckiest man alive. it’s so stereotypical; the line in all of the movies and dating shows on tv, trademark of true love that it is. he feels it, though.
well, okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration. he’s sure there’s some luckier man out there. some man that married someone he was incredibly in love with but who also happened to be incredibly rich, for example. some man that inherited something other than blood and death, some man without a homeless werewolf brother, that isn’t in need of an exorbitant amount of therapy.
maybe that makes loving huangjun better, though. even among all the dark of his life, and all of the curses he deserves, there is this one incomparable, irrevocable blessing.
so no, maybe he's not the luckiest man alive, but the happiest, maybe. the most grateful.
he has more to be thankful for that huangjun, too. there's also this: standing on stage, strumming his guitar, long hair messy and clinging to his neck with sweat, tell tale sign of a show with the band he poured his heart into. he didn't even think he would love playing so much. joining the band started as a mere channel to gain attention. once he opened himself up, however-- gave himself room to breathe and become a person beyond hunting --it became an actual hobby.
he hangs around after the show like usual, mingling, drink in hand, and he glows more than ever.
he spots a familiar face in the crowd, and it takes him a mere moment to place her. he doesn't remember her name, memory too clouded by pain medication and drifted in and out of consciousness. maybe he never caught it. either way, he knows her face; she was with him when he was in the hospital, following the hunt daeyong supposedly died on; the one jaeyong almost did die on.
jaeyong, as social as he is, moseys on up to her with a smile on his face. "hey!" he greets her over the club's music. "do you remember me? song jaeyong." in case she doesn't, he pushes his hair to the side, revealing the bite mark on the left side of his neck. "you might not, because last time you saw me i'm pretty sure the nurses were barely letting me talk, and i am but a shell of myself without my wit and charm."
he doesn't give the woman a chance to speak at all, happy to blabber on. "hey, um, i know i never thanked you. i was kind of a brat back then, but a lot has changed, and-- yeah, thank you for taking care of me then. i know it was your job, but still. can i buy you a drink? i'm not trying to flirt with you, i swear," and he puts his hands up in a show of innocence. "i'm engaged." it feels so good to be able to say it, even as casual justification of his actions. "just as a thank you. or like, i can buy you fried chicken or something, if you aren't the drinking type."
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