Hehehe hmmm. Soooo Tae is an old vampire who’s out on a night walk because he tends to do that because he’s just bored with life, and in one of those walks he sees a boy asleep on a park bench in the cold. And for some reason he’s curious about him (and tells himself it’s curiosity and not growing obsession), and when he sees him while he’s out in his night walks and realizes he doesn’t have have a home, he sometimes finds himself lingering in the park in the dark until the sun rises to make sure he’s okay (and so he can look at him and be like hmm. odd. why do I care about a human) hehe. Since Tae is old he has an older way of talking and the fic is in his pov so the writing is also a little more formal and it’s been fun to write but I hope it isn’t boring to read 😖 It’ll become looser and more casual later on though once Jungkook brings meaning and excitement to his life again. Here’s a little preview!!

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More lucid than he’d like to claim, Taehyung pulls one of his books out of his bag, and his wallet out of his pocket. He’s never adapted to the way of banks (or most modern things, which Jimin teases him for). He doesn’t trust an institution with the fortune he’s accumulated across centuries, and cash has never been a hassle to pay with. So he takes the rest of his large sum of cash from his wallet and tucks it between the pages of a book like a bookmark. Carefully and slowly, he sets the book on the bench where it won’t be missed by the boy when he wakes, and hopefully won’t be taken by anybody who passes him. 

Then he thinks that maybe… maybe he should linger, just to be sure. Just until daybreak. It is his first time doing something strange like this, and he doesn’t want the effort to be fruitless. 

Just in case the boy wakes, Taehyung doesn’t sit right in front of him like he would like to. Instead he crosses the path to a tree no more than twenty feet away, and he sits with his back to the trunk, hidden in the shadows. 

He pulls a book from his bag, because the lack of light doesn’t hinder his ability to see, which is why he can spot the boy’s beauty mark even from here. 

He opens the cover of his book, but he doesn’t make it past the dedication. It sits forgotten in his lap as he watches the boy sleep. He’s studying his hands, the way his knuckles are slightly wider than the rest of his fingers, and how his grip on his backpack has loosened in his sleep, so he’s once again unprepared for his scent to be carried with the breeze, right to him. 

He breathes him in, allowing the scent of his blood to invade his nose. He feels the points of his teeth poke into his lips. It’s been a couple of days since he last fed, and he shouldn’t have ventured out amongst humans with his thirst not fully sated. He’s been alive for many years and is nowhere close to the rapid blood craze those younger than him have, but sometimes he cannot fight his nature, and this boy… his blood… He didn’t hallucinate it like he told himself he did. There’s more to it than what he smells in everybody else. Not a sweetness exactly, but a depth perhaps. A richness. It wraps around him in a way a scent never has, and it catches him off guard so much that he feels the points of his teeth round out to their smooth, natural curve before he was turned. It’s as if a blanket were draped over his cold form. He doesn’t understand.