Anxiety (fidgeting, nervousness, stuttering, uneasiness) is a common theme discussed in this chapter. Please avoid reading if the topic of anxiety is sensitive to you.

⸻⸻ .·:*¨༺ ♛ ♡ ∞ ♡ ♛ ༻¨*:·. ⸻⸻

An entire day passes by the time Wooyoung decides to roll out of bed again. Seonghwa was aware of the fact that Wooyoung was doing everything he could to avoid seeing San for the time being, given that his newly understood emotions had a viscous hold of his heart. So, Seonghwa barely bothered to try and pull Wooyoung free of the grasp of his comforter and mattress.

Wooyoung did his best to keep San from entering the dorm or thinking too far into the fact that the younger slowly disappeared from their routine after an intimate meeting in the studio. He would send the older texts that were vaguely part of the truth, but did his best to refrain from adding too many details.

Still have a headache or haven't been able to get out of bed were some of the texts he sent to San, doing his best to play avoidance. Every part of himself wanted to see San, but with newly discovered feelings he's hardly felt before, he can't trust the intentions lying dormantly beneath the surface, almost afraid that he'd act out and not be able to control himself.

"You're going to regret sitting in bed all day," Seonghwa would lecture before leaving for class, but Wooyoung would just wave him off and settle further into his pillow, avoiding the terrifying thought of liking San so much that his heart might explode.

Tuesday passes without much thinking or productivity, leaving Wooyoung bedridden and self-enabling, avoiding homework, phone calls and showering. He sort of felt depressed almost, wanting to know when his mind became so attached to someone else. It was extremely unlike him to want anything other than a surface-level friendship, so processing everything was a bit harder than it normally should be.

Seonghwa was barely a voice of reason, leaving his friend alone to sleep away his troubles and ignore whatever confrontation he was afraid of having. San was a little bit more persistent than Wooyoung wished he'd be, texting him nearly every hour to check in on him and to make sure he was resting. Wooyoung still gave vague, generic answers, avoiding the possibility of San asking to come visit or bring him food. He didn't want to see him, at least, not right now. He was too confused and too overwhelmed.

"Woo?" Seonghwa's voice appears from the front door, stirring the younger male to lean on his side, head poking over the threshold of his squeaky mattress to glance at Seonghwa.

Seonghwa smiles at him, holding up a grocery bag filled with something that smelled incredible. "Food?"

"Hi to you too," Seonghwa rolls his eyes as he kicks his shoes off, slowly walking over to his bed as he avoids Wooyoung's grabby fingers when he passes by. "I went to the cafeteria and got us some fried chicken. That okay?"

"Plenty okay." Wooyoung sits up on his bed, hair messy and eyes slightly red. Seonghwa doesn't bother to comment on how dead his friend looked, not wanting to deal with an annoyed and starved roommate.

"Here," Seonghwa pulls a container out of the un-labeled grocery bag, reaching over to place the plastic container in Wooyoung's hands that he accepted gratefully. Wooyoung hardly wastes any time in opening the container and taking a hungry bite of the first piece of chicken he can grab, humming quietly to himself in contentment at the taste of warm chicken melting on his tongue.

Wooyoung had hardly eaten before this, convincing Seonghwa to throw him some sort of granola bar from the cabinet before he left, scarfing that down before forcing himself to sleep away more thoughtless anxiety.

"Have you heard from San?" Seonghwa asks before settling down on his own bed, eyes stuck on his roommate that was devouring his meal like a ravenous stray dog.

"Every hour," Wooyoung mumbles, reaching for another piece of chicken. "He won't leave me alone."

"He cares about you." Seonghwa says softly, now suddenly feeling a subtle sadness paining his heart. "Please don't ignore him, Woo."

"I'm not." Wooyoung sighs, teeth biting the inside of his cheek. "I just. . . I don't know. I-"

Wooyoung drops the piece of chicken that was in his hand back into its container, eyes flicking down towards his hands and legs. "I just really don't want to mess anything up."

"He's probably really worried about you." Seonghwa watches Wooyoung push his container to the far side of the bed, leaning backwards and crashing into his mattress with a heavy sigh. Wooyoung knew Seonghwa was right, as usual, which drove him a little crazy, but he chooses to ignore it for now.

"I know he is." Wooyoung admittedly feels bad and he does want to see San soon, but, the thought of feeling his heart burn for the elder makes his stomach twist in a way that he doesn't understand yet. It was all grossly unfamiliar, something that he didn't want to waste time learning about if the feelings were unrequited.

San was so openly flirty with him to begin with that it was hard to gauge where San fell on the spectrum of liking Wooyoung as a friend or more than a friend. The way they danced and spoke to one another felt electric, something about the entire situation made Wooyoung feel safe. Something he rarely ever feels to begin with.

But the minute Wooyoung finds himself dreaming of his friend and aching for his touch, he knows he has to avoid San as much as he doesn't want to.

"Reach out to him, please?"

"I don't know, Hwa. I mean he literally lives next door and I can't risk seeing him right now."

"You might feel better if you do." Seonghwa watches Wooyoung's body slightly tense, hands reaching towards his eyes to rub away the exhaustion pulling at them. Wooyoung wasn't actually sick by any means, but he was over sleeping, which somehow made him feel even more exhausted rather than not sleeping at all. He also felt like he had no energy due to not eating hardly anything since eight this morning, ignoring all of his needs so he could drown himself in a dreamscape. It was all just to avoid thinking about San.

"I feel like shit now. I don't really want to feel worse."

"Woo," Seonghwa sounds frustrated, but his tone was still calm when he spoke again. "Please think about what you're doing to yourself here. You're avoiding class, avoiding taking care of yourself, avoiding staying awake, all for what? The possibility of you liking the hot dude next door?"

"You make it sound so easy." Wooyoung drawls.

"You're the one making it so difficult."

Again, Wooyoung hated when Seonghwa was right. Especially when he was annoyingly right.

"I don't even know what to say to him." Wooyoung frowns, sighing towards the empty ceiling.

"If you want to keep hiding out, at least call the poor guy. You don't have to explain why you're isolating yourself, but something is better than nothing."

"What time is it, Hwa?"

"Just after one," Seonghwa pauses momentarily, brow raising in question. "Why?"

"He's at the studio." Wooyoung's brows furrow, eyes narrowing towards the ceiling as he sits in thought. He could call San. But, should he? The task of it is incredibly simple, but the thought behind it felt traumatizing.

A heavy weight settles on his chest as he begins to lean upright, eyes searching the surrounding comforter in search of his phone. His left hand finds it barely covered by a part of his blanket, bringing it into his vision as he taps the screen awake. Seonghwa watches with intrigue, now taking the opportunity to eat a piece of his cooled chicken before it could get any colder.

Wooyoung finds San's contact almost immediately, pulling up his contact information panel as he stares at the number staring back at him. He blinks twice, biting his bottom lip nervously as his thumb presses the dial button.

He brings the phone to his ear, listening to it ring once, then twice, almost feeling hopeless as a third ring echoes on the other line. Wooyoung debates on hanging up, feeling like a clingy girlfriend as he sits and waits, just about ready to pull the phone away as the line finally stops ringing.

"Hello?"

"San'ah?"

"Hey. How are you doing?"

"I'm better. I just-" Wooyoung audibly sighs, struggling to swallow the butterflies in his chest. "I think I had a really bad migraine. I just needed some time."

"I'm glad you're okay. I was starting to worry about you."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to ditch you like that."

"It's okay, Woo. But, hey, I gotta get back to practice. My dance project is due tomorrow and I-"

"Oh my god. I fucking forgot." Wooyoung's eyes widen suddenly, but close as his hand reaches to silently smack himself in the forehead. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it's not like you're my partner. It's a solo project."

"But I was helping you choreograph."

"There was like, ten percent of the dance left. I figured it out."

"I still feel bad. I told you that I'd help."

"You did help, actually. You can't help that you're sick." San's words sting as they ring through Wooyoung's ears, settling into his stomach uneasily. He really did not want to lie to his friend, but the confession of his feelings wasn't ideal for an over-the-phone conversation.

"I just feel bad, San'ah. I wanted to be there to see the whole thing finished."

"I'll send you a video." Wooyoung can hear San's smile leaking through his tone. It's almost contagious as the same smile starts to creep on the younger's lips.

"I'll be waiting for it."

"Feel better, Woo. I'll talk to you soon."

The call ends and Wooyoung's phone drops to his lap.

"Now was that so difficult?" Seonghwa asks, setting down his empty container on the bed next to him.

"You're annoying." Wooyoung looks down at his hands before glancing back at Seonghwa, a tint of relief gleaming beyond his gaze. "But I am glad I called him. He was worried."

"I told you." Seonghwa sighs as he rises from his bed, garbage in hand. Wooyoung shrugs his shoulders, reaching for his container of chicken again, hands grabbing for the same piece that he discarded earlier.

"I feel guilty now."

"You should!" Seonghwa shouts from the kitchenette, opening their garbage can to toss his container inside.

"Don't make this worse, Hwa."

"I'm not. You like the guy, right?" Seonghwa heads back towards their beds, watching Wooyoung attempt to avoid the question by shoveling a piece of chicken into his mouth. Seonghwa stands in front of him, hands on his hips with a downwards gaze. "Well?"

"Come on," Wooyoung groans, trying to chew his chicken in peace. "Obviously."

"Okay, so," Seonghwa sits back down on his bed, reaching for his phone to hold it in his right hand. "Quit avoiding him. I know it's scary to like someone but he deserves the truth. You really shouldn't lie to him."

"You're such a mother." Wooyoung swallows a bite. "You sound like a mother."

"I'm okay with that as long as you do not lie to San."

"It's not that I want to." Wooyoung sighs in contempt, feeling guilt settle into his stomach. "I just don't want to risk losing a friendship with someone that I actually enjoy being around. Feelings tend to ruin everything."

"I understand, Woo, but-"

"No! No buts. I purposely choose not to catch feelings for people because things get ruined."

"Hey, okay. I hear you." Seonghwa tries to calm the younger down, watching his container of chicken get casted towards the edge of his bed again.

"I'm just not used to this. That's literally it. I like him and I'm scared of that, alright?"

"I was scared of liking Joong." Seonghwa's gaze drifts to his phone, watching the screen automatically light up as he adjusts his hold on it. "Sometimes you just gotta take a leap of faith."

Wooyoung blinks blankly at Seonghwa twice, face admittedly bored and a little disappointed. "Therapy time is over."

"Woo-"

"I'm going for a walk. I'll be back later."

Wooyoung stands from the bed, heading towards the front door as he reaches for his hoodie and shoes, hiding his phone in his pants pocket. Seonghwa watches sadly, torn between asking him to stay and talk or to just let him leave.

Wooyoung hardly ever acts so shut down towards the elder, most of the time when he does it involves his parents. Talking down Wooyoung's walls was a battle itself, one that Seonghwa spent a long time fighting the last two months. They were built pretty high, forged in steel and reinforced with metal beams. One by one did Seonghwa start to take a panel down, with Wooyoung's consent of course, getting closer and closer to his actual personality.

But, Wooyoung was careful, always trying to hide his real feelings and interests, keeping himself safe from the fictional reality that Seonghwa would ever hate him and spill his innermost secrets. Wooyoung knows that isn't likely, but for some reason, the anxious thoughts in the back of his mind relentlessly engraved the vision into his mind. Seonghwa would leave in a hurry, bags in hand, eyes scorned with hate; Wooyoung wouldn't dare to even try and stop him.

Let down after let down would he struggle to convince anyone to stay. He didn't believe he was worth it. His parents never told him he was. Why try to persuade otherwise?

"Woo, I'm sorry." Seonghwa calls after him, watching Wooyoung stop half way out of the front door.

"I know. It's okay. I just need some air." Wooyoung leaves his best friend in the dorm alone without another thought or another word.

Clouds roll over the silent campus, leaving Wooyoung alone in the present quiet that is only disrupted by the rustling wind and passing cars. He wasn't necessarily thinking about anything, just letting the sidewalk take him wherever his heart ended up.

San still hadn't sent him the video of his finished choreography. Wooyoung was slightly worried about the absence of a video in his text messages, but he carried himself blankly, avoiding the possibility of feeling anything more than utter quiet.

He still wanted to see San, and possibly let his fake migraine swirl down the drain so he could just see him. He knew San didn't have another class today, and he would do anything, including skipping his next class, just to talk to him in person. Torture wasn't exactly the word he'd use for this chaotic feeling, but it was damn close.

However, the second his phone starts vibrating in his pocket, he hardly hesitates in releasing his device from a cold denim pocket.

San-ah

Attachment: 1 video

Wooyoung instantly unlocks his phone, swiping into his messages to see a landscape video of San in the studio.

San-ah

Sorry it took so long. Leaving the studio now. Let me know what you think!

Wooyoung taps on the video, tilting his phone sideways to watch it in full-screen.

The dance was mesmerizing. He knew the choreography. He worked on this dance for so many days, not to mention thinking about the flow of the moves with the sound of the song for hours on end. San danced perfectly. Poetry in motion, sweat-glazed muscles with the same usual black baseball cap covering his dark eyes as his hips lock and sway, arms moving in tandem with the flow of the song.

He was mesmerized. Stuck, heart aflutter; standing completely still on the sidewalk as cars race past on the nearby street. Every inch of sweat they had tirelessly put into this dance came into fruition and was met with results Wooyoung didn't know were possible. If San didn't ace this project, Wooyoung would yell an earful into his professor.

San-ah

How are you feeling, btw?

Wooyoung watches the notification appear above the video as it stops. Two entire minutes spent drooling over his friend was deemed enough as he blinks away the trance that was caught in his drunken gaze. He wanted to see him. No. He needed to see him.

I'm okay, thanks.

But that dance!!

You're amazing San.

He hesitates on typing anything more, not wanting to be too overbearing or too excited over the video, but his fears wash away when his phone subtly vibrates again and drowns all unnecessary worry.

San-ah

I couldn't have done it without you. :)

I have to perform it tomorrow. Be my good luck charm and come watch?

Wooyoung's breath hitches.

I don't think the professor would let me?

San-ah

It's in the big dance studio. Plus, I'm her favorite.

She'll let you in while I dance.

I promise!

Wooyoung's face burns beat red, heart anxiously ticking away in his chest as he stares into his phone, unsure of how to reply. The obvious radio-silence must've scared San enough so he replies again, sending a wave of something unfamiliar to coarse through Wooyoung's veins.

San-ah

Please?

Can I come see you?

Wooyoung hates that he just typed that. Fuck. He felt too needy, too clingy. Everything was so quick and after the dance studio two days ago, suddenly all emotions were heightened. He didn't want to scare San away with how involved his feelings were becoming, especially after ghosting out of nowhere with little to no reason as to why. But, San wasn't like that. San wasn't mean and vile. San was kind and compassionate, two things Wooyoung really admired about him.

San-ah

Meet me at the cafeteria in five?

Wooyoung hates what he wants to do. But he does it anyway.

See you there.

The walk to the cafeteria was a cold one. Wooyoung shoved his hands into his pockets as he quickly paced towards the brick building, hoping that San hadn't been waiting long. But, as he rounds the corner, he sees the male standing by the front doors, eyes glued to his phone, the same black cap covering his hair and a black hoodie stuck to his chest. Wooyoung smiles softly, doing his best to approach quickly.

"Hey." Wooyoung says as he closes near, watching San's attention snap back upwards almost immediately.

"Hungry?" San points to the doors, phone quickly placed into the depth of his pocket.

"Yeah, actually. Haven't really eaten today."

"Come on. I'll buy." San smiles at him before grabbing the door handle and swinging the glass-paned door open, waiting for Wooyoung to walk ahead of him. Wooyoung smiles with his gaze tilted down, internally swooning but doing his best to remain oblivious to the rushing feeling flooding his chest.

As they walk into the bustling cafeteria, Wooyoung immediately heads over to the silver serving tables, filled to the brim with a multitude of choices to indulge anyone. San follows closely, a hand hovering behind Wooyoung's back as they close in on the aromas of campus cooking.

"Kinda want kimchi," Wooyoung's eyes narrow slightly in thought, hand reaching towards his face as his thumb just barely touches his bottom lip. "Kinda want a burger, too."

"You have some weird cravings when you're sick." San chuckles quietly, reaching for two trays and handing one off to Wooyoung. Right. He's 'sick'.

"Listen, about that-"

"There's more options down there!" San points down the line, and Wooyoung's gaze follows hopelessly. He wanted to be honest. But now didn't seem like the time.

"Okay." So, Wooyoung trudges down the line, eventually pulling some options from the servers and onto his black food tray with San not too far behind him. Wooyoung listens to San laugh a few feet behind him in line, cracking some sort of joke with a random student. But as he listens to him, he barely feels the hint of red rising to his cheeks and the smile pulled onto his lips.

San pays for their meal and leads them to a table near the back corner of the cafeteria. A large window is to Wooyoung's left, gently gleaming with the shimmer of the peaking sun as it shines behind passing clouds. Wooyoung likes how San looks in the sun, gently caressed in careful sunlight with a soft shine to his eyes; he looked mythical, almost. Alive and happy, smiling at him as if their tension during their last session never existed.

"Can I tell you something, San'ah?"

"Always." San looks down at his tray for a second, grabbing a bite of his food before looking back up with his eyes transfixed on the younger.

"I. . . don't feel up to presenting our project on Friday." San's face falls. Wooyoung lied, partially. It was true that he wasn't going to necessarily want to present a stupid math project so early in the morning, but the truth was that he barely could stand within a few feet of San without feeling his heart meld into ruins.

"That's okay. I'm sure we can put it off until Monday." Shit. Wooyoung then remembers the day of the week, followed by the reminder of his threatening phone call with his parents, mentioning the end of the week with some sort of news about a medical program he hardly found interest in. "Woo? Why do you look so frightened?"

"Aye, shit-" Wooyoung breathes, shaking his head. "Sorry. I just- ah. Do you remember the phone call with my parents?"

"Yeah." San blinks a few times before raising his brow at the younger. "Did they call again?"

"No, no San'ah. They just wanted to hear about a medical program by the end of the week. I haven't done anything and it's already Wednesday and if they call unexpectedly and I don't have any news to share then-"

"Hey, hey. Relax." San reaches his hand across the table to find Wooyoung's wrist, watching the younger's eyes drift from the table and towards the contact of San's hand. "Let's go do that."

"What?" Wooyoung's eyes then rush to look at San, watching him try to calmly smile to reassure his anxiety that everything would be okay.

"Let's go do some research, just to buy you some time to decide. That's what you wanna do right? You wanna think about it for a bit?"

"I'm surprised you remembered." Wooyoung half-smiles, feeling San's touch fade away as he retracts his hand. Wooyoung almost races to grab his hand before it sinks below the threshold of the table.

"Of course I remembered. Now eat up. Let's go look at some medical crap when you're done."

Wooyoung reaches for his utensils and begins to dive into his meal happily, listening to San blab about some sort of dance studio drama within his class. He could sit and listen to the elder talk for hours, let alone look at him and memorize the way he smiles. The way his nose slightly scrunches or how his eyes also smile as he smiles, every little detail that Wooyoung notices turns his heart aflame.

They finish eating, placing their trays in the bin to be washed after cleaning up their table, heading for the door and beginning to navigate their way towards the campus bus depot. The medical school was a bit too far of a walk, at least, a walk Wooyoung couldn't convince himself to endure. So, they buy bus tickets for the ride to the medical student office. Wooyoung sits in the middle of the bus, San next to him, watching his friend eye the campus' medical courses available through their online webpage. Wooyoung is a bit anxious given the situation, teeth wrestling with the skin and flesh of his bottom lip as he scans the webpage for ideas, trying to find a way to make some sort of lie to tide over his parents.

"Does anything sound interesting?" San asks, gaze loomed over Wooyoung's shoulder as he watches the few options pass by.

"No. None of it does." Wooyoung's dejected voice leads to a sigh, fingers finding the phone's sleep button on the right side, dimming the screen before placing it in the pocket of his hoodie. "That's the worst part."

"Hey, that's okay." San cautiously moves his hand to gently place onto Wooyoung's lower thigh, shaking his leg softly. "We're just going to find information out, grab some pamphlets that you can read from and call your mom just to buy you some time."

"You think it'll work?" Wooyoung doesn't think too much into San's affectionate touch, eyes turning to face the elder's questionably.

"It'll buy you the time you need. We just gotta scrounge up enough information."

"Thank you for doing this," Wooyoung feels the bus come to a stop, the door squeaking open with air locks as a few passengers arrive on board. Wooyoung watches a few pass, then turns his gaze back towards San. "I don't deserve your help."

"Stop it." San smacks his leg lightly before placing it back down on his thigh. "You deserve everything."

"You're just saying that." Wooyoung rolls his eyes, but San laughs.

"You're so unaware, it's funny."

"Unaware?" Wooyoung looks back at his smug friend, brow raised and lips pursed. "What does that mean?"

"I like you, Wooyoung." Oh? "You're a great friend. I'd do anything for you."

Oh.

"I like you too, dumbass." Wooyoung tries to sound happy through his comment, feeling San laugh again as their shoulders just barely touch when the bus crosses over a small pothole. He wasn't going to admit that his heart hurt at that sentiment, faking the smile that runs across his lips once the bus suddenly rolls to a stop. He watches San stand up after patting his thigh a few times and muttering something along the lines of this is our stop, but Wooyoung feels deadly complacent.

San holds out his hand for him, Wooyoung's eyes trailing upwards as he slowly moves to take his hand in his. But the touch fades and Wooyoung's heart cries, sitting there on that bus seat, asking why he felt so sad suddenly? He was far from happy, borderline crazy possibly, but he chooses to follow San off the bus and leave his feelings to sit on the line of transportation, staring at him through the window as he watches the bus leave.

"Ready?" San looks at Wooyoung, whose eyes were captivated by the tall, white modern building ahead of them.

"Yeah." Wooyoung breathes. "Let's go."

They spend several minutes inside, grabbing any information they could from the nice student working the front desk, holding several pamphlets and packets in their hands as they try to decipher the best lie to tell. San is asking a lot of questions, trying to gauge each step of each program available with Wooyoung's GPA. Thankfully, almost everything was on the table besides some sort of anesthetic master's degree, which left a lot of wiggle room to decide which was the best to lie about.

Ten minutes later they find themselves back outside, quiet and eyes scanning the several papers before them, trying to pick a field before the bus comes back.

"Which sounds best?" San sighs, watching Wooyoung sift through page after page, clearly filled with anxiety as his internal timer was setting off. He was running out of patience with himself, filled to the brim with several fleeting emotions.

"God, I don't know. X-ray technician?" Wooyoung rolls his eyes, hands struggling to not crumble the papers in his hands.

"I can tell that you're stressed, Young'ah." Wooyoung feels defeated now, mind racing with a million responses to try and alleviate the stress of San being worried about him, because nothing makes him feel worse than when the elder feels worry for him. "Do you want to head back?"

"I just, I-" Wooyoung can't find any words to describe the weight on his shoulders right now, and for some reason his mind insists on silence.

"Alright. Give me those-" San reaches for the papers and takes them with very little effort. Wooyoung stands dejectedly, head tilted downwards as he listens to San rustle around in the small string bag that clung to his shoulders. "We're gonna head back to the dorm. You're gonna take a shower. Then you're gonna lay down and relax."

"San'ah-"

"Woo. Please. You're really tense and you just seem off today. I don't want you to freak out over this. You still have time, okay?"

"Please don't worry about me. Please tell me you're not worried." Wooyoung feels the need to cry, feels the need to do something. He feels too much now, head spinning and eyes glossed over with surging tears that fight to sink over the threshold of his lashes.

"What did I tell you last time?" San says softly, hand finding Wooyoung's lower, middle back. "I'm your friend. Worrying kinda comes with the friendship."

"I don't want you to." Wooyoung swallows his burning tears, feeling them sink into what felt like the pit of despair.

"Hey." San runs his hand up and down the sill of Wooyoung's spine, a calming, warm touch alleviating Wooyoung's anxious breaths to simmer into calm, deeper ones. "Can you look at me?"

"San'ah-"

"Please."

Wooyoung can't resist the plea that stumbles from San's lips as he looks up at him, eyes reddened, lashes slightly wet. San smiles at him pitifully, hand accidentally pulling him an inch closer as they listen to a nearby bus begin to approach from down the street. "You're everything to me. I mean that. I will help you get through this hump in your life if you let me. Just let me in. Please. Just let me help you."

"Okay." Wooyoung sighs, eyes shooting down to the floor after briefly watching San's own envelop him in a warmer light.

"Let's get to the dorm." San nods, watching Wooyoung shyly agree with him.

Wooyoung follows the elder devotedly, but a few steps behind, mind berating him for falling so deeply into this pit of anxiety that he can't help but feel intensely. San has to stop every now and then, looking behind him to make sure that the younger was following until they reach the bus stop and stand silently in wait.

The bus arrives a minute later, door opening without a hitch and San immediately steps inside, Wooyoung not too far behind. They sit on the same seat, now noticing that the bus was basically empty as the doors close and start up again. Wooyoung takes a breath, eyes looking out the window to judge passersby or to scale architecture around a part of campus he's barely taken time to see.

But the anxiety lingers presently, very subtly at that, and Wooyoung can still feel it. San's eyes were stuck into his phone, texting someone back or scrolling on Twitter for some useless celebrity drama that he barely read into.

Wooyoung can feel his hand reach for his other hand, grabbing for his silver ring again, twirling it off of his pointer finger just to dance in between any other finger. An anxious habit, one he's grown awfully fond of doing, just casually becomes subconscious the moment he feels the slight tinge of nerves rake through his mind.

Three minutes of anxious ring twirling happen before San notices, putting his phone away and gently placing his hand over Wooyoung's.

"Hey," San mumbles, fingers moving to gently grab the ring from the younger's grasp before looking at Wooyoung, waiting for him to stop fidgeting. "Still nervous?"

"Yeah." Wooyoung admits softly, quickly reaching for his ring again and placing it back onto his finger.

"I have an idea that might help the trembling, if you'll let me." San watches Wooyoung's gaze grow curious, blinking a few times before wordlessly nodding.

Before Wooyoung can react, San takes his hand and gently rolls Wooyoung's to the side, slowly placing his fingers in the voided space between the younger's. Wooyoung's heart is in his stomach as he feels San's fingers entangle with his own, resting safely on his thigh while his mind crumbles into pieces.

His fingers, at first, resist the hold, but after a few seconds of pondering and internal screaming, his fingers lax and wrap around San's hand effortlessly. Wooyoung hated the way it felt, only because it felt right. But he also hates that his anxiety flutters away so suddenly, barely without any thought. San doesn't seem to think too much into the contact, holding onto Wooyoung's hand so delicately, almost afraid to break him if he does the wrong thing. Wooyoung can tell that the elder was nervous too, the sudden flush of closeness that drives Wooyoung out of his mind, but he doesn't bother to stop himself when he leans his head down slowly and rests it on San's shoulder.

Everything felt easy, now. Nothing felt forced. Wooyoung now feels San relax, the grip on his hand now slightly tighter, readjusting their hold on one another as the bus turns to the left and only presses them closer as San braces himself for the turn, feeling Wooyoung push into him slightly.

It was comfortable; warm. Everything Wooyoung felt like he needed to come down from world-ending anxiety. Their ride home would last connected like this for another twenty minutes as the bus makes its rounds, picking up strangers and letting others off. Wooyoung felt himself drift off into a very hazy bout of sleep, unaware of the soft kiss that San would place so delicately into his hair.