Take care. San furiously scribbles on his paper, almost ripping it in half. Originally, he had planned on writing a new song. He really wanted to – because all the great musicians and composers he knows have written about great emotions. And isn't it best to write about anger or fury or heartbreak while you're feeling it yourself? Doesn't that make the song better, more authentic and believable?
But somehow, it just doesn't seem to work today. Nothing works today. San is about to bang his head against his desk from frustration, just when his phone dings with a new message.
Wooyoung? Heart thumping in his chest and a thousand thoughts swirling through his head, San immediately throws his pen aside and unlocks the phone – only to find out that he didn't get a text message but an email. From uni. Who the fuck writes uni mails on a frickin' Sunday? Irritated, San swipes the mail from his message board. Mails on a Sunday, that's uni at its finest. So now the teachers don't even want to leave him the little bit of free time he's got during the weekends?
Probably they just don't care.
San snorts.
But the email can't even be that important, since it didn't have one of those urgent-markers. And it's not like he wouldn't worry enough about uni on the weekdays already.
Sighing, San puts his phone aside, with the display down. Then he goes back to studying Wooyoung's note: Take care. That stupid line that Wooyoung wrote on this stupid yellow note when he left yesterday morning.
What is Take care supposed to mean? Take care of what exactly? Of not being left like a cheap one-night stand by one of the people he trusted the most? San laughs bitterly. "You're one to talk, Wooyoung." He casts an involuntarily glance at his bed. Where he and Wooyoung had slept together. And where Wooyoung had left him one and a half days ago.
Although San still hopes for a message, anything from Wooyoung – that's the only thing he's done in the past twenty-four hours: waiting and hoping.
He didn't try to contact Wooyoung – hell, he didn't even have the heart to tell his friends anything. He'd spent most of yesterday trying to wrap his head around what happened; and then he tried to distract himself from those very thoughts and memories with a pathetic mixture of Netflix, workouts, and homework.
Wooyoung probably has a reason for leaving – and it's surely not too far-fetched to guess that San himself is somehow part of that reason. Which means that Wooyoung would very likely just ignore whatever text San would send him, or however often he could try to call. And the idea of being ignored by Wooyoung hurts San's heart and pride too much.
Also, Wooyoung will be back by tomorrow anyway. They can talk then, because Wooyoung can't avoid him forever – they're sharing a flat after all.
San gulps. He doesn't really know how to feel about the prospect of facing Wooyoung again after Friday night's and Saturday morning's events. There's this stupid part of him that still cares, still adores Wooyoung – Wooyoung who's loyal to his friends, and who is so fiercely dedicated to dance... who's got a mole under his left eye... and a high-pitched, unique laugh.
And so many more things.
There's a big part of San though that regrets it all, that wishes that he never even kissed Wooyoung. Because Wooyoung had made him feel so special – but judging from the way Wooyoung left him, their Friday night wasn't nearly as special to him as it was, as it is, to San.
San is glad they didn't take it any further than that blowjob. Although, looking back on it, that blowjob itself might have been too far already... But he reckons that he'd feel even more used now, just worse in general, if they would've had sex for real; not only oral but also anal.
Or is that the answer? Would Wooyoung still be here if they would've had real sex? Would that have been enough to make him stay? Maybe San should've suggested doing it.
Sure – right now everything in him coils at the thought of letting Wooyoung anywhere near him again. But it's been fine on that Friday night... more than just fine, actually. Maybe sex wouldn't have been too bad. After all, he didn't know that Wooyoung would leave him a mere six hours later, and he'd felt special and wanted with Wooyoung during the whole night... Maybe Wooyoung would've made breakfast in bed instead of leaving, and maybe they would've gone for a round two afterwards...
No, no, no. San buries his face in his hands. Just because sex might've made Wooyoung stay doesn't automatically make it right. He doesn't know how being intimate with Wooyoung had had so much appeal for him just two nights ago – but right now, he's feels like he doesn't want any of it anymore.
Maybe.
Or does he?
San has no clue. It's all so messed-up and confusing, and somehow he has also trouble believing that sleeping together – not as in cuddling but rather as in screwing each other's brains out – would've made Wooyoung stay. It doesn't seem like something Wooyoung would do.
Or... well. Technically, it could be something that Wooyoung does to his hookups.
Does that mean that San was just a convenient hookup to Wooyoung?
San swallows his tears down for the nth time since yesterday morning and takes a deep breath. This is so ridiculous – just everything about it. Wooyoung was the first person he ever really liked, trusted, wanted. And Wooyoung himself was the reason why San had started to find interest in things like kissing and sex outside of his imagination at all.
Now, when he gets reminded of the things he'd done because of Wooyoung, he feels hopelessly stupid.
There's still a half-full pack of peppermint drops sitting on his desk, for example, that San didn't even manage to put to good use; not in the way he wanted to. He'd been sucking on those damn drops for three days straight, but when he and Wooyoung had finally kissed, it was, of course, without them... Apparently the soju and wine gums have been good enough though, since Wooyoung didn't complain and tell San that he had bad breath or... Whatever.
There's also been that absurdly high number of porn clips he's been browsing through in the last few days though – which just feels plainly dumb now. It's not like he'll put that knowledge to good use in the near future.
Watching porn hadn't really turned him on or anything; but San remembers how he'd started imagining him and Wooyoung instead of the actors, copying some of the tamer scenes. That had become kinda hot. Although he'd still prefer a bed to the kitchen counter or the dining table.
But now that doesn't matter anymore anyways. Wooyoung is gone, and San isn't sure whether he ever wants to do something intimate with Wooyoung again. It probably depends on what Wooyoung will tell him tomorrow about the reason why he left... or if he'll say anything at all.
San needs Wooyoung to say something though, he needs Wooyoung to say something – because if he won't; crush or not...
Take care. San sighs once again as he traces Wooyoung's messy handwriting with his fingertips. Wooyoung wouldn't have told him to take care for nothing... right? But what does it mean? Does it mean that in some weird, confusing way he still cares for San?
San hates that there's a warm feeling blossoming in his chest at the idea that, maybe, he still means something to Wooyoung. Because he wants to mean something to Wooyoung, no matter how Wooyoung left him yesterday morning. Probably no one in their right mind would still like someone who left them just like that, without another word. But San knows he still does. He still cares, which is why he still, desperately, wants to believe that there is more to the story.
Take care. Wooyoung wouldn't have written something like that for nothing. All the other sentences on that note are nothing but informational – so Take care has to have a meaning too.
Take care. No matter how often San repeats these words in his head or speaks them out loud, he doesn't get what Wooyoung wants to say with them. He can't even start to wonder what Wooyoung is thinking, for all it's worth. But once Wooyoung is back, he has to make up his mind. They both have to. And Wooyoung should better start by explaining everything to him, from the Take care to the reason why he left, or the other way around, the order really doesn't matter; San doesn't care.
A/N: I hope this chapter was easier to read than it was to write😅 I don't really know why this (plot: San is sitting at his desk and is deep in thoughts?) was so hard for me to put into coherent words... But I think I'm happy with it now (: I always love to get some feedback though, and I love to get to know what you think of paragraphs or chapters or the story as a whole... - so whenever you feel like leaving a comment: the comment section is all yours🙊
Also, on another note: remember Yeosang calling Wooyoung at the end of the previous chapter? Since San hasn't told anyone about him and Wooyoung, Yeosang apparently didn't call Wooyoung because of San👀
Annnd keep the email in mind that San got in this chapter and that he so easily dismissed.
I hope you liked the chapter^^ Thank you so much for reading, voting, and commenting🧡 Ly