Serene.

Perhaps it was the bright pink hues of the sky, or the large fluffy clouds which decorated the degrading canvas, or perhaps it was the rays of the sky's flame, as they shone directly into his room, enlightening the room with powerful yellows that turned the blues of his room green; providing him with a comfort which his room previously lacked.

Opposite Jungkook stood a canvas, blank as his mind, and he couldn't think of a way to fill it, it seemed like every creative thought that once filled his mind was now gone, replaced with mere thoughts of her, and if her sweetness were to ever come back, his mind seemed to be linked with hers; and despite the fact that he understood that, he refused to admit it to anyone; including himself.

He's been independent, liberated, isolated, for all his life, why would he suddenly depend on someone else as a source of inspiration? It wasn't like him, at all. He had never been one to stay awake till six o'clock in the morning, simply staring at the blank white canvas which waited to be filled; finding inspiration was as automatic for him as it was for his cousin to make a new medley; it was instant, thoughtless, independent.

But here he was, standing, probably with bags under his eyes, watching the clean board facing him, sitting on a stool in a fatal position for his poor arched back, his eyes squinted, as he watched, observed, and admired as the few first rays of the morning sky seemed to shower the room in their greatness; his room, which was, barely a moment ago, the true peroration of a dark knight's castle, was now every Tumblr girl's dream come true; pastel, early skies, rays of lies.

Truly a Tumblr girl's dream come true.

Rubbing his eyes, he let out a loud grunt before yawning, standing off of his stool as he stretched, unsure of what to do, because he knew, hell, he was sure, that if he were to actually lay his head on the exquisitely looking fluffy pillow, the thoughts that he hadn't managed to draw or paint anything would haunt him till his death; if he were to die, of course.

Running a hand through his mass of fluffy hair, he decided on fetching himself a drink, perhaps a drink of strawberry juice would ease his worries, worries he knew concerned their bride, but of course, he was not one to admit to affection; he was worse than a certain hyung of his. With the thought in mind, he exited his room, the feeling of the rough carpet meeting his foot as he stepped into the large hallway.

Making his way towards the kitchen, he wasted no time in pulling out the juice, serving himself a cup and taking a water bottle before he sat down at the marble bar, taking a few sips of his juice, watching with unnoticeable amazement as the sky turned from pink, to purple, to blue, only to become green as the sun peaked more and more. The admiration in his eyes hidden by the facade of pure boredom which filled his features; disallowing anyone to know his true feelings.

He was suddenly caught off guard at the sound of a cough, a human cough, and he turned, only to find a certain woman, who was not I, stood by the door, staring at him with great wonder and endless appreciation. If Jungkook were to phrase it, he would say she was staring at him as if she was horny; and he'd not be lying.

"Hey," He spoke, quickly dismissing the woman who had changed so much in the shortness that was a night. He paid greater interest to his juice, than the woman who was clad in a french nuisette which was far too open to the eyes, for his liking, that is.

The woman in consideration, seemed not happy by his mistreatment of her, how dare he? Ignore her for a cup of juice and a plastic bottle?! Who did he think he was?! With that certain thought in mind, she used all her weight to push him against the counter, back into the harsh bar, and to say he was caught off guard would be a misunderstanding. The bitch dared to put him, Jeon motherfucking Jungkook, in a situation he was not expecting; this bitch needed major handling.

With a quick flex of his arms, he managed to flip them both, pushing her against the counter, his vampire hearing abilities allowing him to hear as her bones met the harsh surface of the counter, not quite cracking them, but pushing hard enough to incite a large amount of pain. He eyed her, a look of disgust across his face as he watched the woman's figure; who could she be?

Jungkook fully realized that it couldn't have been me, after all, the woman in front of him had launched herself at him in such a wanton manner could in no way be myself, and as he looked at her, he only realized that further. Lost in his thoughts, he let go, his grip gone on her forearms, and she smirked before once more launching herself at him, pushing her lips into his own in a rather forceful way. The girl's lips didn't even feel the same; almost consciously, the young vampire pulled back, disgusted, violated, and again, disgusted.

"What the fuck is your problem?!" His voice loud, clear, obnoxiously so.

"What's yours?!" The young woman retorted back, her voice poisonous with disbelief; rejected?! No no no no no!

In a state of genuine anger, due to both this... thing's behavior and his previous lack of inspiration, his hand tightened around her wrist, probably drawing a bruise that he knew would be obvious to anyone, and fuckedy fucking fuck did he give a fuck. Because at the moment, the last of his concerns was leaving bruises.

"Look, you fucking bitch, I know I was somehow dumb enough to fall for all your shits and traps, Troian, but it's not occurring again, not today, not tomorrow, not ever," He declared, venom lacing his words, even so, his sophisticated tone and voice never faltered, his voice staying cool and low, despite his raging irises which were starting to turn into a frightening red; Slitted, red, lifeless, monstrous.

Lifting the corner of her lips, she offered him a smirk, victorious, but somewhat insecure, being an artist, someone who paid great attention to detail, he failed not to see the obvious insecurity and pain in her eyes, insecurity because no matter how much she pushed it aside, she knew, she knew greatly that she had lost him, his brother, all of them, with one mistake, it seemed she burst the door to the vault open; allowing them to escape.

Pain; she had probably forgotten the feeling of it, she hadn't been human in a while, but now she was, locked in a mortal's body, a body which wasn't her own, and as far as he was concerned, he would remind her of that till the day she would decide to get out of this body she stole, or till the day they kicked her out, whichever came first.

"Oh but Jungkook," She started, her voice low as well, and Jungkook's ears almost bled by the sickening sound of her venomous tone, a venomous tone that was matched with a voice he loved so much, a voice which was far too lavish to be used by the scum of earth, at least that's what Jungkook believed the woman in front of him to be; nothing but dirt under his feet, even that was too royal for Troian.

"You seem to forget that you loved me once, don't you remember? Don't you recall the endless nights we spent together? Tangled into each other? You were never this hostile whenever you moaned my name," Poison, pure, dripping, burning, liquid and languid venom that seeped out of her words the more she spoke, and Jungkook had enough.

With quick, sharp movements, he slapped her, before throwing her across the room, breaking a stool. In a microsecond, he was by her again, hand tightening around her stupid little neck before he pulled her off the ground, pushing her back into the wall as harshly as he could, laughing as the satisfying sound of her skull hitting the cold granite of the met his ears. Veins popped through his cheeks, blemishing his face with purple and green lines, the red in his eyes becoming deeper, a treacherous color filled with hatred and pure disgust. If there was one thing Jungkook wanted to erase from his memory, that would be it, the way he had let her have a taste of him, because he loved her, but she simply wanted fun and games, perhaps a laugh too, well; who was laughing now?

His grin was sickening as he watched her struggle for a breath of air, watching with great pride as she flailed her arms like a helpless bird whose wings were cut off. Even so, it seemed his violent gestures were not enough to shut her talking trap up.

"Y-You can deny it a-all y-you want, I was your-" She coughed, attempting to regain breath, halfway through her speech.

"I-I was y-your first-" She declared, only to have Jungkook wrap his hand around her perky little neck tighter, the thought that it was my body had completely left his mind, only images of her sickeningly beautiful face filled his mind.

"A-And I-I...I will be your last."

The assurance of her voice had only drove Jungkook madder, and as his impressive set of canines came out, the only thought that plagued his mind were ones of murder, he could not stand to see her smirk, to hear her voice reason in his head, she deserved torturous death, and he was willing to do it, that is until a certain hyung of his entered the room, and despite his miserable state, he managed to quickly pull them apart, holding Jungkook away as he pushed the bride out. Jungkook's vision was blurry as he tried to make out who it was, and from the bright blonde head; he knew it was Taehyung. Biting harshly on his lip, he groaned, trying to reach for the 'trembling' woman once more, only to be met with Taehyung's bright lilac eyes and large fangs, threatening him with a loud hiss, which made the woman run away.

Taehyung sighed, despite the misery he was in, he managed to hear the commotion and had went downstairs quick enough. Sensing that his cousin was calm enough, he calmed down himself before he breathed out a sigh.

"I would do that too, but I don't want to ruin (Y/N)-ah's body." He stated, his voice wavering at the mention of my name, and suddenly, a rush of guilt washed through Jungkook, which Taehyung noticed, immediately.

Even so, Jungkook's breath simply quickened, the blurriness of the situation, of his mind, did not disallow him to remember the confession his cousin, and who he thought to be his best friend, had made him a couple of days ago; how he had so explicitly described the foul throw of passion he and their bride had shared; Jungkook was disgusted with Taehyung, to say the least.

With a loud groan, he violently launched himself at the vampire opposite him.

"You already did," He spoke, breathlessly, and Taehyung's confidence wavered, his eyes quickly moving away from the vampire's, whose grip seemed to tighten as he topped, his eyes settled firmly on his senior, a treacherous glare expressive of hatred and disgust filling those deep brown eyes; a sheer curtain of pure sadness hidden under there.

Someone once said; "Un misérable reconnait son frère," it couldn't have been more accurate for the two vampires.

One of them was sensitive, his humanity shone brightly in his eyes and he held it up like a torch of victory, he had lived through so much pain, but his hope for something better, something happier, something livelier, had always helped him through everything; thick and thin, perhaps sticks and stones broke his bones, but that never took away his healing abilities, he always stood up, after every hit, every break, he stood up, walked, and continued his journey through life, pushing those emotions through his love for acting.

The other was blinded by anger at the whole world; instead of viewing some hope in the world, he blamed everything and everyone for his pain and agony, he believed his ache wouldn't be acknowledged by anybody, so he channeled it out into anger; he spitted fury with every word he spoke, his exasperation sickeningly evident through his actions, his steps leaked of antagonism which was far too strong for his angelic features, and unlike his cousin, he didn't channel his bad emotions through his art, through swirls of paint that were like family to him, he chose to hide his love and pain through those thick lines and sorry eyes; his paintings were an escape; escape for his pain, his endless agony, and his deep devotion.

They were both beautiful, in their own way.

Taehyung knew his cousin, and as he stared at him, with fury evident in his currently purple orbs, Taehyung managed to fight through his tightening grips, and opposite to Jungkook's beliefs, he didn't attack him like a predator, showing his true side, he opted for something much softer, affectionate, human.

With something as simple as a slip of his arms; Taehyung wrapped his arms around the young vampire, the gesture soft, brotherly, and shocking to Jungkook, so much so, his eyes returned to their natural comforting brown, blue green veins that decorated his skin leaving, as his breaths heaved, and Taehyung's grip around his younger cousin only tightened, providing him with the comfort he needed. Taehyung knew this would never be enough, this small, minuscule, pitiful hug would never be enough to quench his lack of affection; but he deemed it to be enough, for now.

Jungkook was shocked; why would his cousin, whom he knew was devastated at the bride's sudden change, care for him? Shouldn't it be the other way around? He didn't have enough time to question it though, as he was being pulled into a hug, a much needed hug that had him relax in his cousin's arms, casually, finally, letting go of the built up anger and letting himself fall into the inviting feeling of comfort. A sob left his dry lips as he shoved his head further into Taehyung's neck, trying his best to keep quiet. Despite accepting the hug, he didn't want to cry in front of him, but Taehyung's next words were just so... sickening.

Tragedy laced his low yet soothing voice as his fingers barely came in contact with Jungkook's hair.

"It's okay to cry, you know, you haven't..." He stopped, abruptly, unsure if he should follow through with his speech, especially considering the fact that Jungkook's sobs seemed to quicken, heighten and add up with every word being spoken. Tightening his arms around him, he tried his best to reassure him with simple hushes and 'It's okay's, after all, Jungkook was still so young, and compared to all of them, he was so tame, and yet, he had lived through most bullshit, well, they all had, but Jungkook didn't deserve everything he'd been through; he deserved a peaceful life, a calm, stress free, serene life.

As they lay there, tangled into each other in an embrace, an innocent embrace of pure exchanged comforting and solace, Jungkook's heart felt a bit at peace, in his hyung's arms, he felt safe, and Taehyung would be lying if he said he didn't feel a bit better. Despite the comforting, Jungkook's eyes still leaked precious, uncountable teardrops, and whenever Taehyung heard a gasp, he simply tightened his hug, hoping to make him feel better. He couldn't watch him like this.

They laid there, in the middle of a kitchen, a scenario of violence preceded their emotional encounter, even so, their immense attachment to one another shone brightly; illuminating the both of them with a tiny bit of hope for both their miserable and hopeless souls.

Hopeless, miserable, but beautiful.

"Cry, Jungkook-ah, cry. You haven't done it in a while."

◦ ❖ ◦ ◦ ❖ ◦ ◦ ❖ ◦

Breath.

Maybe life was ruthless, or maybe he had bargained for too much, thinking that he would get better, that the sickening bitch who haunted his nightmares wouldn't come to haunt his life, but here she was, having taken over his loved one's body. How could she? Did she ever have a heart? Probably not. After all, that promiscuous bitch was dead, as far as he was concerned the heart that made her live through continuous beats was not hers; not in a fucking lifetime would it be hers, it was his bride's.

Yoongi sighed, watching the ivory and ebony keys; ever since the bitch had taken over, it seemed all inspiration left his usually filled mind, and right now, he had wasted two hours of his life simply staring at the keys, thinking about all the numerous ways he could murder a bitch; push a couple of thin searing hot metal secures through her veins, or perhaps, push one large metal rod through her mouth, at least that would be reminiscent of all the foul things she must've put in there.

"Ew..." The vampire let out, shaking his head at the grotesque thought that traveled his brain. It had been two weeks, two weeks with I no longer there, and he was inwardly dying, because as much as Yoongi tried to deny it, he was one to quickly grow attached, after all, to his eyes, the bride that had been with them for a little over five months was the world's sweetest cherry; a true sweetheart, even with her sassy outbursts and quite snarly comebacks. To him, I was complete. Each side of me completed another. Perfect.

Yoongi sighed, ruffling his hair before he stood up, deciding to head to the library to check on his cousin, Namjoon, he genuinely hoped to find me again, sure, but of course, he didn't want his cousin to kill himself trying. Softly, his hand grazed the copper knob before he twisted it, allowing the door to open before he exited, swiftly shutting the large purple heart door before wandering off into the halls.

Hands in pockets, shirt tucked neatly into his pants, Yoongi looked rather nice for someone who was dying on the inside. Despite his quite dapper looking body, his face was a whole other story. His lips were chapped and swollen, dry and crusty due to the cold that had hit him, his nose was red and runny, his eyes were a dark red from exhaustion -No, he had not been cry goddamnit!- and yes, Min Yoongi had actual bags under his eyes; bags from lack of sleep.

Unbelievable.

That bitch deserved pure tor-

"Hyung?"

Jimin's small yet undeniable voice reasoned throughout the large halls, and only then did Yoongi realize that he had gotten into the west wing; turning around, his eyes settled on his younger cousin, and his eyes widened. Sure, he looked miserable, but it was nothing compared to Jimin's state. His hair seemed shaggier, and dark loops surrounded his usually bright eyes, which were now dull, lifeless almost. The blonde hair dye seemed to fade away, now turning into a pale grey; a color which painfully described the state he was in; detached, undecided, compromised, trying to fade from a shiny, lively white towards a lurid, emotionless black.

"Hyung... Can you come in a second?" He requested, voice small, faltering, broken almost. Yoongi, obviously, could not refuse his cousin such request, and nodded his head, quickly reaching for the door, watching with curiosity as his cousin rushed into the mess of his room before taking a seat on the large bed, sprites of early sunshine hitting his body, enlightening his shadowed figure.

Closing the door behind him, Yoongi watched with pure curiosity, and a tinge of pity, as his cousin sat on his bed, hugging his knees close to his chest, seemingly, he wanted to dodge any type of conversation with anyone, then why would he call out for Yoongi, then? Following a clearing of his throat, Yoongi chose to initiate the conversation, after all, Jimin seemed far too...Pained, to do so.

"So...What'd you need?" He questioned, his eyes holding a great deal of concern and care, masked by the lack of expression present on his delicate features.

"..."