This chapter contains very heavy material in regards to severe mental health topics (depression/anxiety), hospital visits, therapy, abusive/neglectful parents, confinement and isolation. Please avoid reading any further if these topics are sensitive to you. (All of these are discussed near the end of the chapter, so feel free to read past it, as these topics are heavy.)
⊰ ♔ • • • • • • • .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ . • • • • • • • ♔ ⊱
╰┈➤ 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ੈ✩‧₊˚
Yeonjun?
Wooyoung feels as if he's unable to move. Reality was crumbling, a thin line teetering between a hazed limbo and a cursed nightmare, both of which Wooyoung couldn't decide would be better in turn rather than whatever the hell he was presently stuck in.
He could subtly feel San's grip on his hand tighten momentarily, grounding him back to the situation at hand, forcing his gaze even further upwards to scan across a face he hadn't seen in years.
Yeonjun hadn't looked any differently than he remembered. Maybe his hair was longer, but his face, his eyes, his body shape and his smile; all the damn same. Wooyoung swallows harshly, jaw tight, looking away to glance at San. San eyes him worriedly, catching sight of the bridging tears before looking at the male with a slight hesitance, unsure of how to proceed.
"Can we just start with water, for now?" San asks, trying to break whatever tension had appeared over the table.
"For sure. I'll be right back." Yeonjun leaves nearly as quickly as he had arrived, and Wooyoung feels the urge to smack his head against the table. Had he been that obvious? Had he been abysmally embarrassing? Had he been wrong for feeling so distraught at the pure sight of someone who had destroyed him years ago?
"Baby," San says softly, squeezing his hand again, trying to pull Wooyoung's gaze back towards his own. "What happened? What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"
Too much. Wooyoung sucks in a breath quietly, trying to force his mind into a state of peace. He couldn't cry, couldn't leave, couldn't make a scene over any of this. There were media personnel lingering, and who knew what any of them could see? Wooyoung knew he had to be careful, he had to keep himself composed and glue a smile to his lips, leaving whatever turmoil to be dealt with in the safety of his own home.
But this pit in his stomach continues to grow, nearly like a black hole, absorbing his insides, sending a crashing wave of despair to surge through his veins. The world is heavy, settled over his shoulders and weighing down on his lungs, constricting him with its powerful grasp. He doesn't realize that he'd begun to slightly breathe heavily, gaze avoiding, staring down at his lap, squeezing onto San's hand for dear life.
"Wooyoung." San says adamantly, pulling the male out of his own head, eyes casting upwards to lock onto San's. "Let's go to the bathroom, yeah?"
"Please," is all Wooyoung can mutter out, rising from his chair as subtly as he could manage, trying not to bring attention to himself. San tangles their grasp as he moves closer, scanning around the unfamiliar dining hall, moving beyond the sight of tables and decorative plants until his gaze stumbles across a smaller corridor labeled with a restrooms sign. Carefully, San pulls Wooyoung with him, pushing open the door to the well-lit, freshly cleaned restrooms, turning to face Wooyoung once that had settled inside. Before talking, San looks at each of the bathroom stalls, checking for anyone present, but finds the entire room completely vacant. His hands find Wooyoung's jaw, raising his gaze gently.
"Do you want to talk about it?" San asks, thumbs wiping away the remnants of falling tears.
"At home. Not here." Wooyoung admits, taking a breath. "I think it's time I told you what happened."
San raises a brow, but he nods regardless. "Okay, love. On your terms though, yeah? Don't force yourself to talk about it if you don't want to."
"You deserve to know." Wooyoung says as he moves closer, wrapping his arms around San's neck, burying his face into his shoulder. San is quick to adjust and to hug him back, hands soothing lines down the younger's spine.
"Can you tell me one thing?" San asks, feeling Wooyoung hum in acknowledgement. "Did you know him? The waiter?"
How San always knew was beyond Wooyoung's knowledge. Maybe it had been more obvious than he perceived, but having been in some sort of sexual relationship with Yeonjun wasn't something that he wanted to talk about with his boyfriend of all people. But, he did deserve to know.
The trauma, the heartbreak, the loss, the hospital– he needed to know all of it.
"It's complicated." Wooyoung murmurs against San's shoulder, holding him tighter. "I don't want you to be upset with me."
"Now, why would I ever be upset with you?" San asks with an almost audible laugh. "You haven't done anything wrong, love. We're fine."
"I've cried everyday since we've been together." Wooyoung says with a soft, pitiful scoff. "How are you not tired of me?"
"Because I love you." San says warmly. "I love you on your bad days, on your good days, and everything in between. You do not have to worry about crying like this in front of me. I'm here to support you, not tear you down even further."
"You're too good for me, Sannie." Wooyoung leans away from the embrace, hands finding the sides of San's face, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know how Sun-hee ever had the chance to have you like this."
"I'm not too good for you," San smiles. "We're perfect for each other. Okay? Don't let yourself believe that you deserve anything less than what you have."
"I love you." Wooyoung says, gaze finally returning to some semblance of normal. "I'll tell you everything when we get home."
"I love you most." San says, accenting his statement with a kiss on Wooyoung's forehead. "Let's get out there before anyone questions where we ventured off to."
"Yeah," Wooyoung sighs, grabbing a hold of San's hand. "Thank you."
"You're welcome, love. C'mon." San says with a smile, pulling the male out of the restrooms and back towards their table, finding two glasses of water waiting for them, meaning Yeonjun must've circled back around to the table while they were absent. Wooyoung takes a steadying breath, nearly about to plant himself back into his seat before San tugs on his hand slightly, turning Wooyoung's attention back towards him. San leans closer, pressing a delicate kiss on his lips, leaning away a moment later. Wooyoung smiles at him, letting go of his hand to settle back into his seat without a fuss.
Yeonjun returns a moment later, his demeanor indifferent, composed and polite, almost as if he hadn't recognized Wooyoung at all. He tried not to think too much into it, considering he had dyed his hair and grew it out since their less-than amicable split, but even still, after everything they had shared, a part of his heart ached.
Their meal arrives, glasses filled with ice water, two more settled on the table with delicious red wine, which had brought Wooyoung the confidence to remain calm. Even if his so-called ex, or whatever he should be classified as, had been present during his first official date with San, Wooyoung knew that he needed to melt into the comfort of San's presence. He was warm and caring, loving and incredibly empathetic, which had all been things Wooyoung needed in this trivial situation. His mind was at ease, and he didn't even seem to notice Yeonjun's hesitance while approaching the table each time.
"You're so pretty," San muses, hand holding his glass of wine. "You fascinate me."
"Fascinate?" Wooyoung smiles, taking a sip of his own wine, nearly finished with his glass. "That's a new word from you."
"I could use a million words to describe you." San hums, setting down his glass, eyes incredibly fond.
"I'm listening," Wooyoung smiles, settling an elbow on the table, chin falling into his palm.
"Incredible, amazing, perfect–" San sighs endearingly, leaning back into his chair slightly. "Mine, most importantly."
"Possessive, are we?" Wooyoung's head tilts, brow raising with intrigue.
"Can't help myself." San smiles in return, eyes never leaving Wooyoung's. "I've longed to have you for awhile, and now that I do, I don't think I can ever let you free."
"It's a good thing I don't mind being your little hostage–" Wooyoung giggles quietly as he cuts his own words off. "I'd rather keep you to myself, too."
San extends his hand across the table again, Wooyoung taking it readily. "Are you still unsure about getting married?"
Wooyoung wets his lips, gaze avoidant but returning a moment later, hesitation lingering. Yes, was the easy answer, but nothing about their relationship had been easy. The words he wanted to say felt too much and too noncommittal, but he truly loved him so dearly. Saying no felt too dismissive to the other's feelings, but everything in between felt vague. There was nothing easy about an answer to that question.
"Maybe?" Wooyoung's voice softens, his tone timid. "It's a lot, y'know? We went from. . . what we used to be to this, and now–"
Wooyoung eyes their surroundings carefully, glancing down at his ring on the hand that rested on the table, not touching San's. "I told you before that I didn't want to be married to someone I didn't love, but having you and having this makes all of it that much more confusing."
"I know what you mean." San agrees gently. "The idea of not being able to propose to you like I'd wish to, hurts. I want to do it on our terms, the right way. It just doesn't feel right to me."
Wooyoung's eyes widened slightly, but not in surprise, rather in a sense of comfort, knowing that San felt the same confinement within their agreement, forcing them to wed well before they were even ready. It was a gray area, something undiscovered and untouched upon, something they had chosen to avoid speaking of. They knew they had no choice in the matter, so speaking about it felt unnecessary. Even still, speaking about it and coming to terms with knowing that even if they love one another, they still hadn't wanted to get married. It was too much, too soon. They had wanted the joy and passion associated with a proposal, an engagement party, and all of the planning in between. This, all set up by their respective mothers, was everything they didn't want.
Wooyoung, unknowing how to answer, simply smiles in return, finding a soothing feeling settle across his heart. They truly were in this together, regardless of whatever feelings had sunk into their cores at this point.
"Trust me," San starts gently. "When I'm able to, despite anything that transpires between us in the next couple of days, I will properly propose to you. The right way. Like you deserve."
Wooyoung squeezes San's hand, completely swooning over how sweet San could be. Sun-hee didn't deserve him or his kindness, and knowing that he had finally taken San away from an abusive, toxic situation made him miserable with flooding emotions. San went through so much turmoil in the last few weeks, all at the expense of his fleeting feelings and longing desire to be with Wooyoung, and for that, Wooyoung couldn't help but feel guilty.
He loved him, so incredibly much, and knowing that Sun-hee manipulated him time and time again made his heart ache. The situation itself was horrible, but in some ways, Wooyoung finds similarities with his situationship with Yeonjun. Though they hadn't been toxic, layers of lies and unrequited feelings befell them, unraveling their relationship into tumultuous grounds. Wooyoung had tried to find traction even with all of the discrepancies, but Yeonjun never budged.
Even with their stark differences, Sun-hee and Yeonjun had failed at something equally, and that was sharing the building feelings between themselves and their partners. Wooyoung, for that matter, was grateful it worked out this way, now finding himself wrapped up in a relationship that had been the best thing he'd ever known.
"I w'na go on a honeymoon." Wooyoung says, completely out of pocket, catching San's surprise easily. Wooyoung smiles, gauging the male's expression with intrigue. It had been an offer that lay dormantly beneath his haze of uncertainty in regards to their marriage, something that he couldn't shake the desire to do. Time alone, far away from here, completely surrounded in a haze of bliss and welcomed adoration; something they both needed.
"A honeymoon?" San asks, a smile curled. "You really want to do that after?"
"Of course I do, and I think we should. We need some time away." Wooyoung assures, swiping his thumb across San's knuckles. "Not to mention, we could escape to Jeju or some place, with unlimited space to be alone without worry–"
"I like the sound of that." San hums. "I'll talk to my mother and see what I can figure out. As long as the companies don't need us, then we will go wherever you want, for however long you want."
"How about forever?" Wooyoung's head tilts, smiling warmly, watching as San's heart visibly melts.
"Yeah. Forever sounds nice."
Their dinner ends peacefully. Yeonjun had somehow disappeared amongst the staff, and Wooyoung hadn't noticed. San laces their hands together as they leave through the restaurant's lobby, preparing to brave the swarm of reporters waiting for them beyond the front door.
"I've got you, okay?" San murmurs, glancing at Wooyoung.
"I know, love. Let's just give 'em what they want, yeah?" Wooyoung eyes him with a slight confidence, one that glimmers and makes San smile in return.
"I'll follow you." San promises, hand reaching for the front door as he pushes it open, leading Wooyoung outside and into the bustling crowd waiting. Wooyoung takes a breath, following San towards their SUV, maneuvering through the crowd with ease as questions are thrown at their backs, commenting without thought, begging for an answer from either male to place into their desperate headlines.
"Are you two actually getting married?" The words, meant to provoke a reaction, melt into Wooyoung's skin, completely unsettling whatever peace had formed. As San reaches the doors of the SUV, Wooyoung hesitates, squeezing San's hand, drawing his attention back towards him. Their driver pauses, waiting patiently, observing closely. San raises a brow as Wooyoung turns towards him, cupping his cheek with his free hand. San's eyes were so stoic, deep in hues of amber and brown, laced with an attuned fondness that never seemed to drift away. His expression had softened greatly as Wooyoung looked at him, his head leaning into the younger's palm delicately. In this brief moment, Wooyoung doesn't hear the reporters around them. Vultures, hyenas, a swarm of hungry scavengers seeking any source of viable information to leech off of to line their pockets; but they didn't bother Wooyoung now. San's presence was a comfort, radiating a specific warmth, one that had begun to craft itself to resemble the feeling of home.
Wooyoung closes the distance, kissing him gently, parting away after a moment lost in the bliss of butterflies swarming around his insides. The camera shutters, the shouting questions, the beams of flashing lights all melt away as Wooyoung smiles at San, completely lost in the elder's gaze, melting beneath his warmth.
The driver then opens their door, San leads Wooyoung into the backseat, the door closing behind them with a gentle slam. A breath of relief leaves Wooyoung's parted lips, hand retreating into San's again, moving across the middle seat to plant himself as close as he could manage. San welcomes him without protest, turning his head slightly to press kiss after kiss against Wooyoung's temple, humming contently.
"You did so well, love." San praises, earning a soft smile from Wooyoung. "That'll have something to keep them busy for a few days."
"The statement had to have worked, too." Wooyoung breathes out, free hand reaching for his pocketed phone. "I never did see the actual statement."
"It's everywhere," San says with a subtle sigh. "You could probably find it on Twitter."
With a noncommittal shrug, Wooyoung taps away at his device until the world of Twitter unfolds before them. The SUV had started its departure, leaving them to their world glued to Wooyoung's phone screen. Surely enough, after some careful trending searches, their names popped up readily. The statement, boldly put out by Jung Technologies, typed the following words: "Jung Wooyoung and Choi San are still very much engaged despite recent pictures that had surfaced. There had been a miscommunication between the pair in regards to their plans, but we would like to assure that they are still getting married despite murmurs of rumors about their separation. Please look forward to the news of their marriage in a week's time."
"How coy," Wooyoung's brows pinch. "I told Yeosang something completely different."
"Did you really?" San asks, his voice a near murmur.
"I wouldn't have told him to say this," Wooyoung sighs, turning off his phone. "I don't even want to read the comments. I know they're likely full of shit."
"They usually are," San muses, turning to lean his head against Wooyoung's, breathing him in quietly. "Doesn't matter. We're here, and we're real. They'll have their pictures of us from a minute ago and they can go cry in jealousy or malice. I don't care."
"I love this side of you," Wooyoung mutters. "You're just so. . . you. I don't know how to explain it."
"I don't care about anyone's opinions anymore. They're mere sheep, and we're wolves." San says happily, a strike of confidence saturating his tone. "What they say about us means nothing."
"We do have an image to maintain, y'know." Wooyoung warns with a gentle laugh, but San shrugs.
"Oh well. Fuck our image. Let's run away together."
"What's come over you?" Wooyoung muses, feeling as San squeezes his hand. "Not that I'm complaining, but–"
"I just love you." San says, saccharine sweet. "I want to abandon everything we have so we can just run away. The cameras and the media left behind, our parents gone, the life in the public eye cast away. I want you to myself, undisturbed."
"You have all of me already, Choi San." Wooyoung says, tone a bit firm. His head turns to face San, their lips insatiably close. "Our apartment has doors that lock, y'know?"
"I don't want to ever leave the safety of it." San says seriously, a smile feigning. "I wish we could drop everything. I wish we had met under different circumstances. I wish–"
"Sannie," Wooyoung smiles, bringing himself closer, brushing his lips across San's bottom lip, smiling warmly. "Just stop talking and kiss me."
San gives in, per usual, pressing his lips to Wooyoung's intently. Wooyoung kisses him back, unable to withhold the sigh that he breathes as he melts into each kiss. For the sake of their poor driver, San pulls away, pressing a kiss to the younger's forehead, squeezing his hand. Wooyoung lowers his head to lean against San's shoulder, completely content.
Minutes pass before they end up at their apartment again, sneaking in the back door, away from the grasp of the media. Wooyoung tugs San into the elevator and towards their front door, kicking off his shoes and sinking himself into the couch with a rush of haste. Wooyoung was tired, feeling the weight of the day crumble over him, finally releasing from his bones, dissipating into the world beyond him. He hoped his parents would be pleased, even more hopeful that the media would post about their night out everywhere they could manage, dwindling their break-up rumors even moreso.
"It's good to be home," Wooyoung mumbles, watching as San rounds the end of the couch, settling down next to him.
"I agree." San sighs.
Wooyoung reaches for the blanket that had been draped on the edge of the sofa, layering it over his legs and San's, fingers toying with the fabric slightly with hesitance. He knew that he needed to tell San everything about Yeonjun, but the words felt hard to release.
This wasn't an easy topic, and having barely discussed it with Seonghwa and Yeosang, there had always been a part of him that fell locked away, beyond the safety of a closed door, a sliver of himself he refused to revisit. But, he never wanted to hide from San. He didn't want to lie either, leaving his heart torn in a conflicting pull. Digging up his past was something he rarely did anymore, leaving it where it had landed, in the past. But San was his, and if he truly ever wanted to move on from the grip of anxiety in regards to Yeonjun, expressing all of those lost emotions might just be the nudge he needed to begin healing.
"Sannie?" Wooyoung starts quietly, eyes boring into his lap.
"Hm?"
"Can we talk for a minute?"
"Of course, jagi. What's on your mind?"
"This is. . . hard. I don't know how to really talk about this, so I'm just gonna. . . talk."
"Love," San turned to face him, but Wooyoung's gaze remained glued to his hands. "Is this about that waiter?"
"Yeah." Wooyoung sighs. "I met him two years ago."
"Okay." San affirms, trying to entice the younger to continue.
"We had met briefly, and back then, I was in a phase of my life where I wanted to experience everything. I didn't want a relationship, I was really only in it for sex and the thrill of it. Yeosang and I went to a lot of clubs, only because he knew how to milk older men for drinks, so we didn't pay for anything."
"I wouldn't have expected that of you," San says, a slight amusement in his voice.
"I've clearly changed," Wooyoung rolls his eyes with a subtle smile, leaning a bit closer to San, nearly in search of his comfort. "Anyway, when I had met Yeonjun, there was just this. . . unspeakable level of chemistry beyond us. We had a one-night stand, as I usually did after going out with Yeosang, and the next morning it felt different. Like, it wasn't just a one-time thing. There had been something building and left over. So, he gave me his number and that led to an unraveling of changes within my life. I was about to turn twenty-three, and I thought I was figuring stuff out."
"What changed?" San asks.
"I stopped going out to clubs with Yeosang, trying to pull all of my focus on Yeonjun. We were meeting up three times a week and having routine sex that spurred me into feeling things I hadn't felt before. Skip ahead a few months and I found myself growing attached, texting him everyday, nearly fooling myself into believing that what we had was anything more than surface level. We were just friends-with-benefits, there were no strings attached, and yet, I found myself in a nest of strings that had wove themselves around my heart. He pulled and pulled on me, leading my heart astray, and for a small moment of time, I truly believed that he felt as I did."
"Baby," San says, almost sadly.
"We were out one night, sitting in his car, staring at a view of Seoul from the outskirts. It was dusk, the sky was completely clear. We were talking about everything. He was explaining his family to me, talking about his sister, and in a moment of weakness, I let the words slip through. I told him that I liked him, but the minute he turned to look at me, it felt like I didn't know who I was talking to anymore. He was suddenly some stranger, face expressionless, but his eyes–"
Wooyoung cuts himself off, breath caught in his throat. "His eyes were so, so cold."
San listens carefully, reaching to pull Wooyoung's hand over, lacing their grasp together protectively, soothing his thumb across the side of his hand. The tears felt unavoidable now, sinking down Wooyoung's cheeks as the even harder truth came to his view point. This was the part he hated, the admittance to his diagnosis, the fear associated with coming to terms with himself, an outright vulnerability he had struggled to cope with for years.
"I left." Wooyoung breathes, sniffling quietly. "I walked away. I walked all the way home after he stopped talking. He tried to ignore what I had said and kept expressing his family to me, but I couldn't sit there and take it. My heart had been broken, finally giving in to all of that pressure, and in order to save myself, I cut the ties that bound us. Whatever we had died with my hope of a relationship, and after that, I changed. For the worst."
Wooyoung chews on his lip tentatively, taking a breath inwards, gaze still stuck on his lap. His eyes close for a moment, struggling to grapple with the idea of being honest. Admitting to this wasn't easy, simply because no one else knew.
"Take your time," San dotes, waiting patiently, presumably seeing the tension building in the younger's body language.
"God," Wooyoung breathes, head tilting back to meet the couch's cushion. "Why is this so hard?"
"You can't force it, baby." San says gently. "If it's not meant to be talked out, that's fine. You've told me a lot, and if this is too much, then I don't have to know."
Wooyoung, irritated with himself and near his tipping point, lets the words leave him in a rush. "I was hospitalized for two weeks."
San is astonishingly quiet, looking at Wooyoung, doing his best to muffle his surprise. Wooyoung knew that his words must've caught him off guard, considering how mentally sound he had been up until recently.
"A week after Yeonjun and I stopped talking, my life shifted. My parents were hard on me, scolding me for all of the clubbing I had done, saying that I was ruining my reputation and making a whore of myself. Living with them was a nightmare, really, living with the consequences of being the hated son, doing my best to live up to their expectations and failing nearly every time. They wouldn't let me leave the house and they wouldn't let me talk to Yeosang and Seonghwa, claiming that they were bad influences. For a moment, I thought that I had truly reached rock bottom. I lived like that for a month, without contact from my friends, stuck in my parent's house, locked away in my room, submerging myself into books that brought me a sense of relief. But, it wasn't enough."
Tears rush even further down Wooyoung's cheeks, struggling to slow down. "I was at my wits end, San. I was screaming at my parents and losing my mind, crying and I–" A breath escapes, a sharp inhale, one that has Wooyoung nearly sobbing after. "I regret it, so fucking bad. Beomgyu called my parents, and them being them, they arranged to have me evaluated. I finally got my phone back after, but my parents forcibly admitted me for two weeks, claiming that I needed to be cured. I had always thought that a part of me had never been right, considering how sad I was all the time and how much I cried, but I never expected it to be what it is."
San's grip on Wooyoung's hand grows tighter as Wooyoung's head tilts down, his free hand rushing to wipe away his tears. "I'm riddled with disorders, San. Call it a side effect of daddy issues, I guess."
"Tell me." San says softly, which in turn causes Wooyoung to finally look at San, seeing that he had let his own tears slip free.
"Tell you–?"
"I want to know." San sniffles, eyeing Wooyoung empathetically. "I want to know what I can do to soothe your pain and to make your everyday life easier to handle. I want to understand, but only so I can love you better, to treat you better, and to help you realize that I'm never going anywhere."
"Sannie–" Wooyoung murmurs, tears still falling, curling around his jaw and dropping onto the blanket below.
"Please, love?" San weakly smiles. "You are everything to me, and I want to help you however I can."
"I've never told anyone." Wooyoung says softly, voice a near-whisper.
"Not even–?"
"No. They don't know. I don't want them to." Wooyoung looks away. "I mean, they know about my anxiety, but beyond that, they don't– it's not their burden."
"Love, you are the farthest thing from a burden."
"I have a very strong version of depression, San. I've fought with myself for a long time, trying to deny it, and my parents, hearing this, forced me into therapy for months. I learned how to deal with it, and since then, it's become easier to handle my emotions. I didn't want anyone to worry, so I just sucked it up and let it weigh me down. It has a hold over me sometimes, but with our arrangement and the pressure of the media, it's worsened my anxiety over hiding it and then getting so close to you suddenly–" Wooyoung takes in a ragged breath, gaze falling away. "It brought back the feelings I regretted having to Yeonjun. I didn't want myself to hope for anything more, but then you kissed me and it felt like my world was ending."
"Wooyoung–"
"No, San, just–" Wooyoung wipes away his tears again. "Losing Yeonjun broke me in more ways than I had imagined. I did some stupid shit two years ago and what I had done scared Seonghwa and Yeosang to death. I don't want you to think that I'm fragile and incapable of handling myself. I'm healing, I'm trying my best–"
"Wooyoung." San says, almost a bit firmer, catching Wooyoung's gaze with his own. "Relax. I wasn't going to say that."
"What were you going to say?"
"I'm proud of you." San says, smiling gently. The words, heavier in sentiment and strong in affection, lead a waterfall to rain down Wooyoung's cheeks.
"You're–" Wooyoung's eyes widen as San's hand leaves his own, reaching up to cup his face.
"I am so incredibly proud of you. You are stronger than you think, Wooyoung. I'm happy that you feel like you're in a better spot than you were in, but even if you have bad days, that's okay. I will love you through all of them, and I want nothing more than to see you happy. Seeing you at peace, even amongst the tears you've shed the last couple of days, brings a warmth to me, one that I'd never felt with Sun-hee. I only ever want to take care of you, and if you need reassurance about something, or you need help, come to me. I would move mountains for you, love. I would simply do anything."
"Sannie–" Wooyoung melts into a fit of sobs once more, leaning forward, colliding into a much needed embrace from his partner. His cries, once filled with pain, now release all of the tension he held scarred over his heart for the last two years.
"I love you." San hums, holding him snugly against him, a hand smoothing down his spine. "You are safe here, with me. I won't let your parents hurt you like that ever again, love."
"I love you." Wooyoung mutters back, clinging to San's shirt.
"Please always remember this, Wooyoung–" San says quietly, pressing a kiss into his hair. "Please remember how truly loved you are. The light of my life, my moon amongst the stars, and my entire heart."
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AN: I do want to mention that Wooyoung's reference to "doing something stupid", does not hint to him harming himself. I know it can be taken that way, but it is not at all what he is referring to. That topic is extremely sensitive, and I am not comfortable writing about it. What he's talking about will come out later on, but I wanted to make it clear that that is not what Wooyoung is referring to.
I know this chapter was extremely heavy, but just as a reminder: It is okay to not be okay, and there is always help out there for you. You are cherished beyond means, and someone out there is thankful that you exist. ♡
I struggle with my own disorders, so I understand how sensitive this chapter can be.
If you skipped parts of the chapter, do not feel bad, as I understand completely. The trigger warnings are there for a reason. ♡