There are mentions of a toxic relationship, previous domestic violence, slight mentions of emotional cheating, descriptions of a failed marriage/divorce and mental health (anxiety/depression) written within this chapter. Please do not read any further if these topics are sensitive to you.
⊰ ♔ • • • • • • • .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ . • • • • • • • ♔ ⊱
╰┈➤ 𝐒𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ੈ✩‧₊˚
The morning comes quicker than San would like it to. An array of text messages lay unread within the depth of his device, but he can't bother himself with looking at it. His bed was lonely, warm, and indescribably comfortable. His room was on the opposite side of the apartment from Wooyoung's, windows nearly covering the entirety of his exterior walls with a vast view of the city ahead of him. The sky was painted in warm arrays of oranges and yellows, clouds lingering in wispy waves that caress the hues coloring the sky just above downtown.
Admittedly, San wanted to avoid everything about today. He told Sun-hee that he'd call her soon, needing time and space to completely understand the changes he had brought onto himself. His emotions had never been so confusing before, but now, he has never felt himself be pulled in two different directions before.
A sense of familiarity stems from his relationship with Sun-hee. Though it is awfully toxic and rigid, a sense of comfort pours from within, and San can't convince himself to leave. He knows that Sun-hee tries her hardest everyday to be better, but sometimes it felt like it wasn't enough. He loved her, he knew he did. Or, well. . . he thought he did. But the more they argued, and the more she pushed him away, the more San wanted to cut all of his ties to pursue something that had laid dormantly in the back of his mind.
Even still, being his first true relationship, Sun-hee had shown him what to expect out of loving someone. He would shower her with affection, always texting or calling her, making sure she felt so incredibly loved to the point of his feelings never being openly questioned. But, that was before the arrangement and its complicated details, and now San finds himself faced with another problem. A different problem.
San had always struggled with being open. That wasn't to the fault of anyone else, or his parents, but he had found it hard to be honest about anything having to do with himself. Worrying anyone with the details of his own strifes felt painful to him, nearly choking him as he struggled for air, wondering why he could never fully allow himself to rely on someone else.
With Sun-hee, San had built up a certain level of patience. She knew everything about him, of course, but to a certain extent. She would never know him completely; not the dark, unrelenting parts of himself that he knew no one would love. A fear, plaguing his mind, consistently dragging him through hell as it sat on his shoulders, orchestrated his life and made him live within its own constraints. It was an irrational fear, stemming from nothing in particular, but the thought of it alone terrified San to his core, making it all that much more impactful.
The fear of abandonment rattles San back to his childhood, sitting in the corner of his bedroom with his knees drawn to his chest, crying absently, wondering why he had no friends and why he insisted on filling the voids in his heart with plushies and video games. He had no one, not that he really wanted anyone in his life to begin with, but with a fear of abandonment, settled the fear of loneliness, and as of late, San has been feeling loads of that.
From a young age, San knew of Wooyoung. He hadn't met him, nor really spoken to him, but his parents talked an awful deal about his parents. From the sounds of everything, the companies were heated rivals, destined to hate one another for years and years to come, that is, until one day a contract was signed and their sons were promised to one another. San has never openly hated anyone in his life, simply because he's had no one in particular to hate. But his parents had made Wooyoung out to be this narcissistic, cold, stubborn asshole who had selfish intentions and an ego nearly as big as his parent's company building. His father couldn't have been more wrong.
Wooyoung was empathetic and kind, sarcastic and kind of a smart ass, but completely loveable. San has never met someone so willing before, so easy to compromise and incredibly doting, and as time would have it, San began to feel things he knew he shouldn't.
With a relationship stringing along simply because of the security of it, San knew he had a decision to make. Sun-hee was controlling and toxic, not to mention manipulative and obsessive. San did love her, but not enough to force himself to remain in a relationship that was beginning to feel one-sided. He began to feel hopeless, wondering what he did to deserve an outcome like this, splitting away from the one person he thought truly loved him. But Wooyoung had been right, she didn't love him, not in the way she should, at least. Love wasn't supposed to be filled with arguments and pain, riddled with resentment and disdain. But it was all San grew to know, it was everything he had filled his senses with recognizing, wondering if loving someone was supposed to be this difficult.
The future looked bleak with Sun-hee, clouded and darkening with every passing storm, wondering if the unrelenting rain would ever cease to stop. But, when he came to an impasse with Wooyoung and their bonds grew, a sudden light tore through his cloudy haze, and San couldn't free himself of the will he had to stray towards the beaming light.
He'd be the first to admit that what he was doing was wrong. He knew it, but even still, the way his heart felt was beyond confusing. He's tied, nearly about to break in half as he stands in the middle, feeling the pressure pull from either side. He wants to give in and just break in half, giving equal parts of himself so he can no longer have to deal with the pain of leaving and the guilt of feeling something new. So, in a rational string of thoughts, San reaches for his abandoned phone, scrolling past Sun-hee's relentless texts, pulling up a familiar group chat.
I know it's early, but can we go for coffee?
The offer was minimal, but all San could think about was talking to the two people who knew him best.
Mingi
Yeah, of course. I can be ready in a few minutes.
Joong?
Hongjoong
Sure, Sannie. I'll be at our spot in a bit.
With a sigh of relief, San finally tears himself away from his comfortable prison, tossing the comforter aside as new found energy fills his veins. He carries himself into his en-suite, eyes roaming across his large mirror as he walks past, catching the faintest sign of exhaustion plaguing his expression. San had spent the night ignoring his phone, but Sun-hee couldn't grasp the idea of space. She clearly didn't care about anything Wooyoung had said, even if she did agree to leave their apartment temporarily. San knew he'd have to face the music eventually, but ignoring her to properly grasp a hold of his emotions felt like the only natural thing to do.
He turns to lean against his bathroom counter, hand reaching up to gently touch the skin beneath his eyes. He hated how sleep deprived he had looked, knowing all too well whose fault it truly was, even if he really didn't want to admit it.
He could sit here and take the repetitive blame, cursing at himself beneath his breath that if only he tried harder, if only he made her happier, if only he hadn't talked back, if only this, if only that; it was beyond fucking exhausting. In the end, it wasn't his fault, and he was slowly coming to terms with realizing that. Not everything was his wrong doing, and Sun-hee hadn't always been right as she so claimed she had been. Things weren't so black and white, moreso gray and neutral, a blend between the two, making it hard to see his rights and wrongs. But beyond the array of colorless hues, burn a flame of red, brighter than any ruby, a stark reminder of what was truly wrong in all of this hazy mess. Sun-hee.
Wooyoung had been right, annoyingly so, staking claim that his partner's girlfriend had been a walking and talking red flag. San was blind, not wanting to admit to how true it had been, holding out hope that Sun-hee would just fucking change. But argument after argument had proved otherwise, straining their relationship further, causing San to drift even farther away.
At this point, San wasn't sure what love was anymore. He thought he had loved her, but according to Wooyoung, she had been gaslighting him recently. San recognizes her behavior as gross and horrid, but how long had he been blind to her antics? How long has he simply sat and let her just walk all over him like a dirtied rug? How long has she bared her teeth and claws just for him to submit to her every waking will?
San doesn't know if what he feels for Sun-hee longer classifies as love. It was slightly warm, a fondness maybe, but it was no longer the infatuated desire he used to have. It had been replaced so easily by unkempt feelings that likely derived from resentment and anger. They had been dating for a long time, but not even that was enough to convince San to fight for the relationship that seemed to be breaking apart with every passing second. Blame it on the arrangement, blame it on Wooyoung, blame it on his own blindness; San didn't care. What they had was ever fading like rainwater seeping into a gutter, trickling into the Earth until it dissipates completely and no one bothers to wonder as to where it went.
But even still, guilt wanders into his veins, slowly sinking into his core as he realizes the complexity of his actions. He knows what this all means; losing someone who he had once loved and who he had thought truly loved him, all for the sake of longing for someone, or something, else.
He continues to stare at himself in the mirror, studying his complexion and imperfections, watching his once dejected gaze that he grew to recognize too well stare right back at him, numb and completely lost.
He's stuck, complacent in a world of familiarity that he longs to keep. Change had always been difficult, derived from his phobias and nightmares, ones that he wishes he could simply forget and move past. Neglectful parenting and socially outcast, San only knew how to rely on himself. Now, finally being able to rely on someone who could understand his anger and frustration with their shared situation, San finds his mind somewhat at ease. A sense of peace soothes over his skin, steadying his aching heart, willing himself to pull towards the beaming light that seemed to shine over his tumultuous darkness. But, he can't.
He's tied down, stuck in a shell of fear that he finds inescapable. Leaving his toxic lover would result in a catastrophic loss of their arrangement, and he can't bear the misery of losing that too amongst several other life changes. If this would've all crumbled beneath him weeks ago when he and Wooyoung hadn't been on spectacular terms, life would've been easier. There'd be no worry about who he was leaving behind, or what he was leaving behind, for that matter. He's curious, constantly thinking about the possibility of letting himself enjoy sinful desires that lay dormant in the back of his mind, spurred on by an urge to kiss his fake fiance, one that he tempted with fate by masking the urge with the cover of calling it an accident.
It wasn't an accident, at all. San wanted to kiss Wooyoung, and he had wanted to ever since their grocery store incident. Guilt floods back over him, as it had been the last few days, spurring a train of hateful thoughts that make him wish that he could simply disappear. His feelings were confusing, more than they ever have been, wanting nothing more than to express how he had felt, even if he wasn't completely sure what his feelings meant.
Losing Sun-hee wouldn't crush him like he thought it would, but at the risk of losing everything he had with Wooyoung; that's what scared him the most. Wooyoung had so much to lose in all of this, and knowing partially how Wooyoung's parents would react or treat him afterwards made the fear that much worse. Wooyoung didn't deserve that. So, San elected to remain in a relationship, trying to convince himself that it was all worth it. All of the pretend, all of the forced love, settling for someone who hardly even had control of his heart anymore. She didn't love him, at least, she acted like she didn't. San had to remind himself of that several times a day when Sun-hee would act normally, like the girl he had fallen in love with, the one who had been so kind and curious, but also the one that taught San how to truly love someone else.
This wasn't love anymore. This was spite and obsession, fueled by a jealousy that San wanted no part of. Yet, he finds himself stuck. No matter how many times he rides this mental carousel of worries, he finds himself back at the start, spiraling in circles until he feels dizzy and on the verge of throwing up. It made him sick, truly sick, thinking about how quickly he had fallen out of love and grew to be fond of someone he had long despised. Fate, San supposes, has a way of tying two broken souls together and helping them fix one another. He just hoped that Wooyoung wanted to fix his broken ailments just as much as San wanted to fix his.
Hongjoong
I can be there in ten minutes.
Shit. San sighs. He had spent the last five minutes staring at himself with an anxious verbiage of thoughts that stemmed from the lack of sleep he had been receiving.
With another breath, San hurries through his routine. Washing his face, brushing his teeth, messing with his hair; meticulous things he liked to rather spend time on but found himself short on time in this instance. So, in a motion to not be absurdly late to the gathering he insisted on making, he grabs a black cap, changes his clothes into something comfortable, and strides out of his bedroom.
At first glance, Wooyoung wasn't awake. It was nearly nine in the morning, and typically, Wooyoung had slept until nearly eleven sometimes. San elects to send the younger male a text, just so that he didn't think the elder had suddenly ran away due to their sudden kiss and Sun-hee's outburst.
Going out for coffee with Mingi and Joong. I'll be back later.
San sighs at the text as he stands at the front door, keys in hand. It felt too impersonal; cold, somehow. So, as an addition to that message, he opts for a smiley emoticon to add afterwards, hopefully to avoid any misinterpretations that he'd have to fumble to explain later.
Quickly, he heads out of the apartment, locking the door behind him, striding towards the all-too-familiar elevator as he awaits for it to rise to his floor. The soft ping of the metal box shoots San's mind even further awake, legs moving subconsciously with two feet planted firmly on the floor, pushing the button to lead him to the ground floor. San, in the back of his mind, knew he had to be cautious about his outing, mainly due to the buzzing popularity his name had cultivated in the last twenty-four hours, but he didn't care too much. He needed his friends more than he ever had, hoping to find sturdy ground in his shaky thoughts.
The coffee shop wasn't too far from his apartment, so he elected to walk there rather than ride in his rather noticeable private, blacked-out SUV with a personal driver, trying his best to keep his head down and remain as noticeable as he could. His walk is brisk, steps led with a tinge of uncertainty as the thoughts continue to unravel before his subconscious, thinking into every single detail a little too deeply.
He's never found himself so at war with his own mind, normally choosing the easier path to stray away from certain anxieties and sadness, choosing his own self-preservation over anything else. Sure, it was a bit selfish, but it was the only way to protect his fragile heart. He may have a tough exterior behind his rigid muscles and stern gaze, but beyond everything, lay a boy who had been too afraid to admit to how much he truly longed to be around others. He had always gotten by alone, simply because he had to, especially when he really had no other choice.
Forcibly home-schooled from a young age, San rarely ever met with other kids his age. His mother, strict and overbearing, completely rid his life of any joy a normal child should enjoy. There were no parties, vacations or days spent at school to meet with other kids; it was purely studious activities, learning how to perform well in mathematics and etiquette from a young age, provided with the help of scholarly tutors and nannies. Being raised in a household that barely saw his own two parents shifted a lot of perspectives in his life. He was raised by unfamiliar women, those of which still cared for him greatly, but they still were not his mother. Family dinners were rare and often quiet, mostly composed of his father scolding his mother for things she hadn't done or wished she would do. The company, from his perspective in his early years, started very abruptly and slowly. San's father, Eun, had acquired such a large mound of fortune from his late father who had passed from cancer when San was barely three. From then, Eun began building his empire, investing into anything he could afford, making his money back nearly tenfold.
San watched his father grow happier, more successful, but also slowly beginning to drift further and further away. His sole focus was his company and his employees, doing everything he could to exploit his assets, making more and more money with the more essentials he acquired. His mother was always a wave of support to his father, even if it felt like they were on the brink of divorce his entire childhood.
At the age of nine, San watched as his parents grew closer suddenly, and almost just as fast did he realize that they were growing even further apart again. Eun was gone longer, his mother home and downing bottles of wine alone, leaving San to watch whatever remnants of his family dissipate before his eyes.
His loneliness, the one that he tried to avoid for his entire upbringing, slowly shifted into something unavoidable, and the fear quickly rooted itself within his soul. His mother was home more often, drunk off her ass, watching reruns of Korean dramas to pass the time, seemingly oblivious to Eun's antics back at the company.
This continued for years, and to San's surprise, his parents had yet to bother divorcing. Despite all of the distance and all of the lack of communication, they both still came home to one another and slept in the same bed, likely coming to terms with the fact that they loved the life they built together, just not one another anymore. Somehow, they had been okay with that.
It had imprinted on San then, that love was a painful experience. Was love supposed to be difficult? Was love supposed to be so misunderstood? Was love supposed to leave one in tears, and the other resentful? He didn't know. He watched his parent's happy marriage suffer into something that was barely able to keep aflame anymore, listening as his mother sobbed on the couch most nights while his father ignored her cries.
And here he was, nearly in the same situation, glued to a woman who had barely cared about his mental health and seemed to only prioritize his friendship with Wooyoung over anything else. Sure, she was allowed to be jealous, but her behavior and her obsessive, toxic tendencies were unnecessary. He didn't want a love like his parent's. He wanted the ones he's read about and watched in the theater, succumbing to a desire of lust and longing, feeling a sense of complete and utter joy at the faintest touch of someone that had felt like home. Sun-hee didn't feel like that. She started to feel like a distant memory, the remnants of something he had long adored and no longer needed.
Another ping from his phone distracts his attention back to his walk, nearly thirty seconds away from the shop itself.
Hongjoong
I'm here. Are you guys close?
Nearby. See you in a second.
Mingi
Same!
San turns the corner, carefully opening the coffee shop's modern, glass door, eyes peering around until he spotted his brunette friend.
"Joong'ah," San says with a sigh of relief. "Thank you for showing up."
"It's no biggie." Hongjoong smiles, gently adjusting the gold and black framed glasses sitting on his nose. His hair was just barely peeking out of the black beanie he had been wearing, matched with a black hoodie and ripped jeans. San knew Seonghwa must've had some sort of influence on his style, considering that Hongjoong rarely ever wore beanies or ripped jeans as it was.
"Hey boys," Mingi smiles as he joins in, pointing to a table nearby. "Let's sit, yeah?"
"Yeah, let me order something for us, though. Americanos all the way around?" Hongjoong asks, and San immediately nods.
"Please."
"Be right back," Hongjoong smiles at the pair before trudging off, leaving San and Mingi to head towards an empty table with four chairs tucked beneath the wooden surface.
"Alright, spill. What's up?" Mingi asks nearly deadpan, and San raises a brow unenthusiastically.
"Really? Already? Can't I enjoy my coffee first?"
"No." Mingi shakes his head. "You're never begging for us to go out this damn early, San. What happened?"
"Can you just wait until Joong gets back? Please?" San tilts his head, pleading with his tired gaze that Mingi folds under.
"Yeah, sure. Fine." Mingi waves him off, trying to avoid looking into San's pouting lips that he nearly smiles at.
After two minutes of silence, Hongjoong returns with their drinks carefully, passing straws to both males before settling down next to San, leaving Mingi sat across from them both.
"Okay. What's up, then?" Hongjoong pries, carefully pressing his straw into his coffee's lid.
"What?" San turns to glance at him, and Hongjoong raises his eyebrows. "Okay, seriously? Both of you knew that something was up?"
"Well, yeah." Mingi scoffs. "You are never so giddy about getting up this early to go anywhere."
"It was a telltale sign, Sannie." Hongjoong muses. "Get going, then. Explain what happened."
"No bullshit?" San looks between them, and they both nod. "God, fine."
With a breath, San glances down at his hands, voice low enough to avoid anyone else other than their immediate circle to hear. "I'm sure that you guys heard about the press release and what happened, yeah?"
"Yeah. You kissed your fake fiance that you so apparently used to hate." Hongjoong takes a drink of his coffee, earning a slight glare from San. "Go on."
"Anyway–" San sighs. "There's more about this whole thing that you guys don't know. There's. . . another person involved."
"Another person?" Hongjoong inquires, and San sadly nods.
"Yeah, uhm–" San wraps his hands around his coffee, fingers smoothing over the small receipt that was taped to the plastic cup. "Remember Sun-hee?"
"Yeah!" Mingi raises a brow. "Wasn't she the girl you dated briefly before meeting Wooyoung?"
San nods, earning a near-glare from Hongjoong. "Don't you dare say that you've been dating her this entire fucking time."
"Shoot me." San shrugs. "I was in love with her. What do you want me to do?"
"Wait, wait, wait." Mingi points at San, his other hand wrapped around his drink. "You said was. 'Was'. . . as in you aren't anymore?"
"I don't fucking know." San wants to slam his head into the table, groaning at the end of his sentence. "I'm beyond confused."
"Start from the beginning." Hongjoong says adamantly. "If you'd like for us to psychoanalyze you, then you've gotta start with the details from a year ago."
"All that way back?" San whines.
"Mhm. Now go on. We're listening."
"Well, you guys know that I met her while at a gala with my father. She was a bit weird in the way she approached me, but I didn't think much of it. After we started dating, things were fine. They were really smooth and I genuinely loved her and she loved me. Maybe she still does, and maybe I love her, I don't know. Point is, eventually, things felt off. She did something to me that I'm not exactly ready to discuss, and it changed the entire dynamic between us. I still struggle with the memory of it, but I did my best to forgive her and to just push it aside because I thought that she loved me."
"Sannie–" Hongjoong says softly, empathy flooding his gaze.
"Now, fast forward to the arrangement, she hates Wooyoung. I get it, she's jealous or whatever, but. . . she really, really hates him. She is constantly begging for me to leave him and the arrangement, or to let her move into the apartment so she can be around me all the time and it's just so fucking much. She doesn't give me a chance to breathe, y'know? I feel like I'm forced to want her around and that I'm forced to want to kiss her or hug her, it's not–" San closes his eyes, brows pinching. "It's not what I want anymore."
"It's okay to fall out of love," Mingi assures, but San shakes his head.
"You don't get it. If I leave her, she's going to expose everything about us and then my father is going to lose everything he had built and I'm going to compromise Wooyoung's future. I can't do anything about it. I'm fucking stuck with her."
"Sannie," Hongjoong sets his drink down on the table, eyes avoiding momentarily. "How do you feel about Wooyoung?"
San feels like a brick had suddenly settled in his throat. The words felt heavy and incredibly hard to admit to, but what was the point in hiding this from his best friends? He needed the help and he needed the guidance, unsure of where to even go from here without someone helping him along the way.
"I have feelings for him." San starts. "Strong feelings, which is the scariest part of all of this. I want him in a way I've never wanted someone. I don't know if I'm just lonely and seeking out someone who feels like a bundle of warmth in my icy darkness– I just don't know. I'm so confused and I feel so bound to what I already have that the idea of taking on something new is so daunting."
"Relationships are scary." Mingi says gently. "Why are you so unhappy with Sun-hee to make you feel like you want to seek out something else?"
"She's toxic." San admits, taking another breath. "We're always arguing. We don't have sex, and we no longer just sit and enjoy one another's company. She's always itching to argue about something Wooyoung had done that I have no control over, and she's always up my ass texting me–"
"Y'know what this sounds like, Sannie?" Hongjoong asks, watching as San's gaze turns towards him. "It sounds controlling. She is using your love for her against you. She's up to something, and I would fucking put money on it. There has to be some ulterior motive to her obsession with you like this, because no one in their right mind would stick around in a relationship with someone who is literally bound to marry someone else in a legally-binding contract."
"We don't know that for sure–"
"It's a very good guess." Mingi agrees quietly. "Even when we briefly met Sun-hee, something felt off back then. It's been awhile and it could've been a one-off experience, but still. . . she never gave off the right vibe."
"God, am I blind?" San looks at both of his friends desperately, and Hongjoong smiles at him.
"No, Sannie. You aren't. None of us knew that she'd act like this later down the line. Hell, we didn't even know you two were still dating when you weren't supposed to."
"Forget that. It's in the past." San waves his hand, looking at Mingi, then back at Hongjoong. "What do I do? Something has to be done because I feel like I'm being pulled in two directions and if I don't do something soon, I'm going to combust or something from all of the stress and pressure."
"Rip it off like a band-aid." Mingi suggests. "If you don't love her, then there isn't a point in sticking around."
"You can do that," Hongjoong says as he points at Mingi, looking at San. "Or, you can sit her down, force her to sign an NDA, break it off, and chase after the person you want."
"I can't force her–"
"Oh, yeah you can." Hongjoong sighs. "You forget who your father is, Choi San. Your dad has so much fucking power in this city that I'm sure he could conjure anything to remedy all of this."
"That's the thing, I cannot bring my parents into this. If Wooyoung's parents find out, then we could ruin everything."
"Back to square one." Mingi leans back into his seat, sipping on his coffee.
"God, why is this so hard?" San leans back into his seat too, pulling his coffee with him as he takes a long, satisfying drink.
"Well, then, we go with Mingi's idea. You need to break it off. You're torturing yourself, Sannie. Whatever happened between the two of you was not healthy for you, and you're still in pain from it. You need to cut her off." Hongjoong makes it sound so easy, and San rolls his eyes at all of it.
"I don't think there's any other option outta this," Mingi shrugs. "You can always deny her accusations if she's ballsy enough to drag the press into all of it."
"She literally has pictures of me on her phone." San says, unamused.
"I have a plan." Hongjoong says suddenly, smirking as he leans forward, pressing his elbows on the wooden tabletop. "Invite her over, one more time. Whenever she gets up to go to the bathroom, get into her phone, delete all of the pictures of you and your texting history. Problem solved."
Mingi's eyes widen in surprise, and San gently leans right back into his seat after briefly leaning forward.
"That. . . could work." Mingi says softly.
"What if I can't get a hold of her phone?"
"Play a game of patience, Sannie." Hongjoong smiles, taking his straw into the corner of his mouth. "You never see a snake striking its prey without a little patience, hm?"
"Christ." San sighs for the nth time, feeling an absurd amount of tension rise onto his shoulders.
"Well," Mingi leans forwards too, setting his coffee down. "What're you gonna do?"
San looks up, expression filled with uncertainty. He knew what he wanted. He knew who he wanted. That kiss didn't mean nothing like he thought it would; it meant everything.
San wanted a break from his chaotic storm, wanting to seek shelter in the embrace of someone who began to warm his icy soul, melting away his cold exterior inch by inch. All he craved was a love that was all-consuming, lighting a fire within him, keeping him away from the dark depths of his own depressed mind.
He wanted Wooyoung. He wanted him in every way that he could manage. Physically, emotionally, spiritually; every single way possible. His once strong hatred simmered into pure desire, burning brighter by the surge of longing, kept afloat by the hope that Wooyoung had simply wanted him too.
As he sat there and looked between his friends for a moment, he knew that when he went back to the apartment, everything was bound to change. He hated change. He hated messing up his routine and ruining everything he was familiar with. He was tempting fate, bringing back the possibility of loneliness if this all slipped through the cracks, leaving him alone in the midst of a war that he conjured on his own. He wanted to be told that it was going to be okay and that Wooyoung would want him too, but it was all uncertain and left with the wind.
San takes a drink of his coffee, setting it back down on the table as he stares at his hands, looking up one final time. He threw caution to the wind, grasping onto the will to chase after something for the first time in his life, seeking out the one thing he wanted more than anything else. He didn't care if he broke his heart in the events of all of this. He knew he had to try.
Wooyoung was worth all of it. He always had been, and the thought of that made the decision that much easier.
"I'm going to break up with her tomorrow."