Yesteryear

How and Why

Wooyoung had no control over his own body. His desire to leave his house and return to the institute to find out what happened with San conflicted with the hollowness of his heart that kept him pinned to the bed.

He had cried all of his tears, had submerged his flat in rivers of sorrow. Whenever Seungyoun dropped by to check on Wooyoung, he nearly suffocated on the agony that filled Wooyoung's stuffy home.

Wooyoung felt hollow. He was alone and lost, void of any purpose. His love had died so unexpectedly and many years before the current year. From the moment Wooyoung had first met him, San had been dead. Every one of their plans, every hope they had for the future, all the promises Wooyoung had made to him. They were void and echoed in the emptiness of Wooyoung's heart.

No words Seungyoun had for Wooyoung could soothe him. He suggested going back to Victorian times and spending as much time with San as possible before the inevitable happened. Wooyoung couldn't. He couldn't look San in the face, knowing that his lovely and immortal darling would die after thousands of years of looking forward to loving each other as equals.

It hurt so bad. Like stabs of knives, Wooyoung's heart lurched in his chest every few seconds. He was exhausted and fatigued from crying, so hopeless, even when there was always an option to see San again in the past.

Wooyoung found it unjust. How San had waited so long but still didn't get to be with Wooyoung the way he wanted to be.

Wooyoung sniffled into his snot-spotted pillow. It was disgusting, but he hadn't showered in four days, so he was none the better. Showering and taking care of himself was just too trivial and didn't matter compared to what San had to go through.

Why had he not heeded Wooyoung's warning? Why had he died in the war?

Wooyoung curled up tighter around himself and wrapped his arms around his knees. He was heartbroken, and there was no way to make it better.

He also knew he would check on what happened with San that day. The cycle of misery would repeat because Wooyoung would never get to meet him in his time and he would always know when San would find his untimely end.

Wooyoung laid in his bed trying to sleep off his headache from crying when Seungyoun came in. He didn't bother announcing himself anymore, knowing Wooyoung wouldn't react. The beeping of the door code alerted Wooyoung as the man made his way in.

Seungyoun took off his shoes, but he didn't bother putting his coat down. As he came into Wooyoung's gloomy room that was shrouded in blackness at all times of the day using the blinds, he blinked to let his eyes adjust. As soon as he spotted the heap of suffering under the blanket, he came over to sit by Wooyoung's side. The bed dipped under his weight but Wooyoung made no move to make some space.

"How are you?" Seungyoun asked as he refilled the glass of water at Wooyoung's bedside table. He barely drank from it. Lifting his arm was too much effort.

Wooyoung didn't reply, too exhausted.

"Yongguk suggested I ask you again about finding out what happened with San. I can go, too. I don't mind it, Woo," Seungyoun sighed after a beat of silence. He ended in a relieved breath when Wooyoung rustled in the sheets to pick up his heavy head. Dull and throbbing, his headache came along as he strained to keep it up.

"Don't. He's my business." His nasal voice was raw from all the crying he had done over the past few days.

Seungyoun helplessly patted his shoulder.

"I won't steal him from you. We just don't want to see you sad once more."

His kind words woke stubbornness in Wooyoung's chest. When he sat up, Seungyoun's hand fell off him to land on his lap.