back when we were changing
for the better
wanting was enough
for me, it was enough
to live for the hope of it all

wooyoung san

30.08.17

he climbs the looming metaphorical mountain apprehensively, each step nearing its apex deepening the sickness brimming in the depths of his stomach. a hard blink and the repeated motion of clenching and unclenching his fists help san see what he's actually facing; the anxiety he is feeling is turning the simple steps and institution into something they are not.

it's barely been a week since the excursion to jeju island, and san's mind is plagued with the memories every moment since. so much so that he knows he has to see dr. suh, whether his old therapist ends up being helpful or not.

his nightmares frequent him now, and there's no wooyoung to pull him out. the nights are a terrible torture of waking in a cold sweat without really remembering why. waking from each only throws him into another painfully lonely reality, though. because wooyoung isn't there anymore- what it's like to be held by him are fragments of shattered memoranda he can only grasp for in the dark.

and it's highly unlikely he'll ever be held by wooyoung again. or anyone, for that matter. san truthfully has absolutely no inclination to let anyone hold him except for the boy he can never have. can never have - all because the universe says so. because of fate.

digging into the mute cavern of his mind, san finds the recount of what had happened the day they left jeju. wooyoung's words and the way his face had betrayed no joy are recorded on a tape san has locked away with his most painful memories, a tape he replays every day.

"have you been avoiding me?" san had asked, half jokingly. they are alone for the first time since hongjoong had walked in on them.

"n-no." wooyoung had stuttered, his uncomfortable demeanor concerning the older. "i- i need to tell you something."

innocently, san takes his words lightly, his eyes sparking. "tell me what? why you've barely spoken two words to me since the other morning? because if you ask me, your boyfriend overreacted." referring to hongjoong like that leaves his mouth bitter.

"u-um, i guess?" wooyoung stammers, desperately clawing for the right words, trying to force himself to speak them. "he's not- he's not just my boyfriend, san. i'm hongjoong's soulmate."

san blinks. his first thought is that this is some kind of awful joke, but the crushing weight on his heart tells him it is not. he feels sick, aware of a painful flare in his left forearm. something breaks in him, then. but still, he has to try.

"oh." he manages, to which wooyoung's head snaps up. the blonde is looking at him in confusion, as if he's expected more of a reaction. if he could see, he would've noticed san quivering. he might have seen the truth earlier. another cruel joke from the universe.

"wooyoung," san pleads with a breath, unable to accept the fact he has no chance. no chance of redemption, no chance of happiness. which he doesn't deserve anyway, that much is clear. "are you sure?"

"why would he lie to me?" san flinches at the defensive tone he is faced with. part of him screams 'well, because he's a pathological lying bitch!', the words thrashing inside. but he keeps them in. there is no reason for wooyoung to believe him over hongjoong.

he can't even bring himself to say the word. 'boyfriend' is hard enough already. this? this is too much.

"we can- we can still be friends, right?" san asks defeatedly. he hates the hitch in his voice. the terror of wooyoung saying no. he doesn't want to be without him.

the blonde boy gulps, his eyelids fluttering. san sees his blue eyes flash in conflict, and feels the hole in his chest begin to expand. wooyoung has to say yes. san would rather have him as a friend than not at all, because if it is the latter the hole will expand until there is only nothingness inside of him.

when he doesn't answer, san adds, "there's no reason we can't be friends, right? none i can think of. unless you feel the same way i do." the last sentence is a risk. a reach in the hopeless dark. but he has to know.

"maybe in another universe-" wooyoung begins to deflect, but san cuts him off.

"don't. don't give me that bullshit. i cant bear it." all he wants is the truth. because that's not an answer, and for the first time in san's life, he feels ready to give his own truth.

"i'm sorry." wooyoung whispers, sounding truly so as he edges away, as if afraid of being close to san and what that would do to him.

"that's the problem, wooyoung. you're sorry. everybody's sorry." his name feels unfamiliar on his lips. san doesn't know where these words are coming from, but they don't stop. he feels like he might explode if he doesn't just tell the blonde how he feels- if he doesn't get the closure of knowing the truth. he'll spell it out.

"maybe there are versions of ourselves together in an alternate dimension right now, but that doesn't matter! because THIS is my universe. the one where i don't get to be with you." san takes a breath, aware of wooyoung's glimmering eyes. "prospecting what might be is fucking useless, because i'm in love with you now! in this universe."

"screw what the other versions of ourselves are doing. i don't care about them because i won't ever experience them, but you know what we will experience? what happens now." mid way through his speech, san had stepped towards the younger, his hands now on either side of his neck.

wooyoung is trembling as he holds san's wrists and bows his head. "san, we can't." his words do not feel like the truth.

"tell me you don't feel something!" san demands, his thumb stroking a ghosting touch. wooyoung's breath catches in his throat, and san isn't sure if he's going to scream or cry. "it's always 'we can't' and 'it's not meant to be' but you never tell me how you truly feel about me. what do you feel?"

his choice of words are no accident. he had asked him this before, and wooyoung had been honest. san just hadn't known he loves him, back then. or maybe he did. he thinks he always has. their foreheads lean together, touching. san feels so weak, and not just in his knees. he can no longer stop the tears from falling onto wooyoung's face, mixing with the other's silent cries.

still, he does not respond.

"because i can tell you how i feel." san finishes, eyes shut. "i love you. doesn't that mean anything?"

he doesn't dare open his eyes until he hears wooyoung speak again. and when he finally does, the words are quiet. but they are loud and clear to san. and they feel like bullets. standing here, he's been stripped naked and raw, his heart on his sleeve.

"hongjoong is my soulmate." is the simple reply. the words are spoken literally in san's face, like a punch. it only hurts more when wooyoung doesn't pull away yet. "i can't let myself feel anything for you, because it's not fair to him."

"what about our deal?" san tries, shuddering. "you're not eighteen yet— you said that you didn't want this predetermined life."

there's a sound between a sad laugh and a sob, as wooyoung lowers his head, pressing himself in the junction between san's neck and shoulder. "i don't." he admits. "i don't know what i want."

san withdraws angrily. "i think you do. and you still didn't answer my question." backing away, he runs his hands through his hair, vision blurry with tears and muscles aching from the regained distance from wooyoung. "alright."

now that reality has struck him like a taunting fist, san realizes exactly what he said; the three words he hasn't spoken since he was fourteen. and he doesn't know what hurts more. the fact wooyoung had not reacted to them, or the fact he'd been stupid enough to say them out loud. just like everyone else, wooyoung is going to leave him.

san locks the tape away again. he feels increasingly pathetic, especially knowing he is in the building in which his mother resides. she would be so disappointed in him.

before he can dwell on that excruciating revelation any longer, he is greeted by dr. suh. the man presents himself as formally as ever, in the neat suit san remembers and friendly smile he loaths to look forward to.

"i was glad to see you call." the man notes by way of greeting, giving him a nod. "you didn't really have to come in person yet, though. i imagine that must be hard for you."

"yes- but i wanted to." san replies, suddenly conscious of his every breath and word. he is almost certain the man is already psychoanalyzing him. i needed to.

"i've made space in my schedule for weekly sessions." dr. suh explains, clasping his hands behind his back. "i have all your information of course, from before. we can have a quick chat right now, if you want, just so i can get a better idea of where we're at."

"right," san clears his throat, struggling to begin. "well, i'm having nightmares again. but i can never remember what they're about. also, i keep having these fragmented flashbacks- i can't make sense of the images, though. i feel like i'm going crazy."

"quite a change from when we spoke last." dr. suh muses, not commenting on the rest besides a few scribbles in his notebook. "you insisted you weren't crazy. what's changed?"

oh, i don't know. san thinks to himself, setting his jaw. i let myself fall in love with a boy i promised myself i wouldn't fall for, and when i finally admitted my feelings, he ran away. all because of the universe and its rules.

"right." dr. suh looks at him carefully, picking him out of the stabbing monologue san isn't speaking out loud. "we certainly have a lot to talk about."

his therapist wishes him well, and san is glad to be on his way. the sooner he can get out of the institution the better.

catching a glimpse of the young woman receptionist he recognizes from last time, san figures he is going to become accustomed to her face in this place. and many others, like the nurse who calmed his mother with the drugs.

making mental notes of their faces, san focuses on the staff he knows and how best to avoid being asked any questions regarding visitation of his mother. he certainly isn't prepared for that any time soon, especially not when he's failed her. failed her in her only wish for him.

on his way out, san feels his phone vibrate against his thigh in his pocket. confused, he fishes it out, unsure of who it could be.

the number is unfamiliar, so he rejects the call. and he would have thought nothing more of it, except his phone rings again.

irritated this time, san answers, eyebrows pulling together and an insult forming on his tongue. however, the words die on his lips; the caller speaks first.

"therapy, san? really?" the voice sends unpleasant chills through every part of him, causing him to freeze in his strides. "apparently i'm still marked as your guardian, because i just got a call to confirm your sessions. you told me you were better, which was clearly a fucking lie, huh? i'm gonna need an explanation, right now."

despite not having heard that voice in years, san can never forget it. all he can manage in reply is a feeble "junhee?"

-

bringing this gem back bc it's apparent i cant make commitments

aha don't hate me :,) <33

i'm back fr now, tysm for the never ending support and kind messages

xxx

edit: me when i lie