WHITE

The moment I slip the last of my fingers from his hand, his eyes flutter. I practically sprint to the chair, my feet almost sliding on the floor as I skid into the seat.

Safe.

"Hi." I say with an awkward smile as he scrambles up into sitting position, the blankets still covering the lower half of his body. "Nice sleep?"

Dammit, I think, mentally slapping my forehead. Not what I meant to say.

"What are you—" His hair is messily tangled, dark locks tumbling down his forehead. "Oh. Is it morning?"

"It's night." A smile splits my lips when he goes still, his eyes flashing to the windows. There's panic in his features, and I laugh.

"Don't worry about it." Relaxing convincingly into the chair, I stretch and arch my body out like a cat. "You look so much better now."

It was true— there was a healthy blush in his cheeks, and he didn't look exhausted at all anymore.

When he looks down at his palms and glances up at me with his eyes narrowed, I decide to look really interested in the small bookshelf in the side of the room.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, and I glance back as he stands from the bed. The white shirt and his ruffled hair gives him a boyish look, and I almost don't believe he's the same person.

My lips move by themselves.

"How old are you?"

When he tilts his head, I flush from the bottom of my feet in embarrassment. "I mean— I mean I'm fine."

"Twenty." He says, a rare smile flashing in his lips. It makes him look even more youthful, more mischievous. "Would that change anything?"

"No." But my answer is too fast, and he smiles wider. He's almost like Jungkook for a second, a devilish grin on crooked lips.

"Why don't you smile more? You look less— uh, colder."

"If you want me to, all you have to do is ask."

That makes my mouth practically drop open in shock. He watches my face, and smiles again when he sees my stunned reaction.

"What's wrong with you?"

The smile fades.

"I don't know." He mutters quietly, and he stares at the ground, repeating his words. "I don't know."

"No, no— I didn't mean it like that." Pushing myself up from the chair, I approach him as he sits back down on the edge of the bed.

Plopping down next to him, I swallow and look at his side view with my heart practically leaping from my chest.

It was impossible for anyone to look like this.

"If I ask," I begin quietly, and his alluring green eyes flicker towards me. "Then you're going to do it?"

He considers, looking back to his crossed fingers. "Just one thing."

Just one.

But I already know what I want— it's something that I want to try, anyway.

Well, I'm going to die soon, so might as well push with whatever I want.

Trying to keep my face from flushing, I cross my legs and turn so I'm looking straight at him.

"Close your eyes."

He does what I tell him to.

Taking a silent, deep breath, I reach out with my hand. And then I drop my palm on top of his head, and push back a laugh when his brows scrunch.

"What are you doing, demoiselle?"

"Shh." I hush, and try to focus on my Blessing. I'd thought about this for a while— if I could heal physically, there was nothing that said I couldn't do this mentally as well.

It could help with Jimin.

For the next minute, I focus as hard as I can. Once or twice, I feel his features moving in curiosity when nothing happens.

Dammit, maybe this was a bad idea.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Finally, V snaps first. He brushes my hand away from the top of his head, giving me a narrowed glance.

"What." He says, clearly confused at my purpose as he looks at me huffing for breath. My Blessing feels almost emptied.

"In the world was that supposed to be?"

"I—"

My face heats up at his stare.

"I was just trying to make you feel better, okay?" Voice rising, I grind my teeth together as I slap both hands over my cheeks to try and cool them down. "You know, it—"

Then he laughs.

When I look at him with shocked rabbit eyes, he reaches down to touch my face. My breath pauses in my throat when his fingers run down the line of my jaw.

There's no pain.

Which means—

He doesn't say anything, even when I start blinking fifteen times per second. And when I shift my body to the side, he sees that as invitation.

V's eyes are captivating.

And so sad.

Knowing that there's no pain, I wrap my arm tight around his neck. He shifts me up easily onto his lap, like I weigh less than air.

My heart pounds in my chest.

I'm going to die anyway.

Twisting my body halfway, I wrap my other arm together around his neck and press my lips against his. In the one second that I'm kissing him, it feels like the world is under my feet.

Any longer and it would hurt him.

Forcing the bitterness back down in my throat, I try to pull away when I realize I can't. His hand is pressed right against the middle of my back, keeping me in place.

My eyes soften as I pull back forcefully.

"You know that I can't." I say, trying to keep control as I tug on the fabric of his shirt. "She might get even more angrier if she finds Marks—"

"Not you."

I look up, confused. He swallows, like he hadn't meant to say what he'd just said.

"What?"

Then the uncertainty turns firmer, and he looks straight into my eyes. "I don't know why, but you're not like her."

Her....?

Then I realize. I remember the last time I'd kissed him out of anger, and there had been no Marks made at all. I'd always thought that was weird, because when the Empress barely touched him, there were burns left behind.

But I don't affect him.

I don't affect him.

A squeal bursts from my lips as I jump back into his chest, my hands wrapping around his soft cheeks. When I kiss him this time, I don't know what to feel.

I just feel happy.

"Wait...." He almost stutters, and I nearly roll laughing on the ground when I see his green eyes wide with shock. His hand hovers uncertainly next to my cheek, and I just die.

I think I love him.

"You're not going to." He suddenly whispers, his arm tight against my waist. "You're not going to die."

"That." My laugh is sad, but I try to force back a smile for him. It isn't that hard, because I feel like I've eaten a gallon of drugs. "That's impossible."

"Trust me, please."

"I do." Then he breathes sharply when I kiss the corner of his lips, my leg wrapping around his. "Why so serious?"

"I am serious." He retorts back, and for a second he looks like a stubborn Pomeranian. "You will?"

"If you say it like that." I laugh, and he scrunches his features together as if this hadn't been the answer he'd wanted. I can't believe he has a side like this— like a puppy.

There was this feeling I felt when I looked at him, ever since he'd called my name in that forest.

And now I think I know what it might be.