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dekustowel · 10 months ago

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[chapter 18: the one where they face the music]

summary: in which izuku midoriya, class 2A’s resident sweetheart, agrees to help you catch the eye of your crush, the infamously stoic, shoto todoroki. it should be easy enough, right? izuku is todoroki’s best friend and feelings aren’t that hard to catch. that might just be the problem.

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[taglist: closed] @cozy-dolly @apple9i3 @escadolle @moonshineandclearskies @awizuku @local-space-quexn @rainypeachbakerygoth @moonlightbaby10 @dreamland03 @hiqhkey @kisakitwister @flamingi @tansyfleurwhisper @h0n3ysgh0st @keigopika @hazelnutdreaming @whatamidoing89

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YOU ARE COMPLETELY HELPLESS.

And boy, oh boy, do you know it.

because only you could watch a boy walk into such a romantically decorated room, hand in hand with another girl, and still have your heart beat to the rhythm of every step he takes. only you could watch him tuck a stray hair behind her ear and still have your heart hammer against your chest at the idea of him doing that to you. and only you could watch as his emerald eyes scan the room subtly and delusionally think that he's looking for you.

there was probably a gaping hole on the side of your head, with the way your once boisterous friends stood quietly to your left, looking at you to gauge any negative reaction.

you weakly shoot a smile their way before gazing at the spectacle in front of you once more.

it doesn't take much for midoriya and camie to capture the attention of the whole room - izuku midoriya is gorgeous in his own right, he always has been - but tonight he is resplendent. black tuxes have always been known to make a man more attractive. sure, that was true. but as midoriya moves further into the room it became strikingly obvious not only to you, but to everyone else in the room, that the black tuxedo might've been made for him and him alone.

you slam your eyes shut tightly, knowing that if you stare at him any longer a pool of drool will drown you and everyone else in this auditorium. and your insurance definitely doesn't cover that.

you focus your attention on your friends and their dates standing next to you, turning your back to your crush and his date, ignoring the sinking feeling pooling in the pit of your stomach.

"now i feel insecure. babe, we should leave early and change into our jammies." kirishima mumbled, pulling at the points of his hair, and avoiding eye-contact.

"babe, you look great, stop it." she assures him, stopping his nervous tick it's tracks, and soothingly rubbing his back.

"i will admit he's better looking than anyone gives him credit for - dare i say, he's underrated." kaminari pipes up, earning a nod in agreeance from his girlfriend.

"babbeeee, you weren't supposed to agree." kaminari whines, earning and eyeroll from jirou.

"you feeling okay, y/n?" your best friend asks, causing your laughter at your electric friend to die in your throat, a look of concern pressed against his features. sero's date, a nice guy from general studies you'd met previously, shares the same look. clearly, sero has clued him in.

"mhm. i'm doing swell." you hum, as an itch crawls up the side of your arms.

was the room always this loud?

"are you even listening to me?"

no.

no you weren't.

that was a hard thing to do when the mumblings and giggles of the nearby groups of girls were reverberating in your ears at unsafe decibels.

it's not easy to ignore the sound of his laugh or see his perfect smile and look away, but you do it. you do it because you have to.

but for whatever reason it's damn near impossible to tune out the strangers who would've never given him the time of day otherwise talking about him.

"damn, i should've dm-ed him when i had the chance. he's hot."

"is the girl he came with his girlfriend? fuck, does she even know how lucky she is?"

"the things i would do to see that tux on the floor of my r-"

tune it out. tune it out. tune it out.

the longer you listen, the more enraged you'll become, and you have absolutely no right to be enraged. you're not his girlfriend. you're not anyone. you're not camie. you're not camie.

a calloused hand places itself on your shoulder, snapping you out of your thoughts. your date stands next to you, a blank expression on his features, as he stares past you and over at the dazzling couple behind you.

you glance over your shoulder, watching as camie places a shy hand on midoriya's bicep, leaning into him as they greet his friends. she looks absolutely stunning, a little uncomfortable, but beautiful all the same. then again, you can't name a time she didn't.

why couldn't you have driven a less attractive woman into the arms of the man you love? it would have at least made you feel a little better about yourself.

"you need a drink," katsuki mumbles beside you, slicing your intense thoughts in half. he'd always been good at that, snapping you back into reality. you'd almost forgotten he was there because of how quiet he's been since you arrived. despite claiming that you would immediately part ways upon arrival, he hadn't left your side once since the night began.

you turned your attention to the typically-aggravated blonde standing closely beside you, as the light hand on your shoulder begins to steer you away from your anxieties in human form and to something less daunting: the snack bar.

"have you ever liked someone so much that you didn't care if they liked you back? you just cared if they were happy?" you asked a few minutes later, after tucking into one of the mini cupcakes they had on display.

"no, but it seems to be a common thing that you idiots feel," he responds honestly, handing you a cup of fruit punch.

"is this spiked?"

"drink it."

you do. it's fucking horrible.

"do you think it's a bad thing to feel?" you ask.

"i think it's neither here or nor there, it seems to be something you people with overly big hearts feel," your date responds, "i cannot imagine telling the person i like to be with someone else just because i want them to be happy. be happy with me or be single - that's how i feel about the whole thing."

"that's awful, kats."

"no, that's fighting for what you want. something you haven't even tried to do. you heard there was competition and gave up before you even tried. you don't even really know how deku feels." he retorted.

"of course, i do! i mean look at who he came with." you shift your head slightly in the direction you knew camie and midoriya were standing, still unable to look at them.

bakugou shakes his head, convinced that you have got to be the most daft person in this auditorium right now, "you are helpless."

you laugh at that.

"listen, you could stand here sulking all night, and fuck, i'd let you, i don't give that much of a shit," he continues, "but this stupid dance has been at the forefront of everyone's mind, and it would be great if i didn't have to hear you bitching and moaning about how you didn't have a good time tomorrow morning."

a mischievous, yet genuine smile creeps up your face as you extend your hand out to the blonde in front of you, "that was a roundabout way of asking me to dance, katsu."

"shut up."

IZUKU MIDORIYA IS THE DUMBEST MAN ALIVE. yes, that may sound like a bold claim coming from a place of regret and self-pity, and lord knows that may be true - but what if i told you it was the full unadulterated truth? that he truly was the most incompetent person in the room he was in?

would you believe me?

honestly, it wouldn't matter if you didn't.

because he believes it.

he believes it for me, you, and everyone else within a thousand-mile radius. he believes it from the top of his head all the way down to the tips of his toes. he believes it so much you can visibly see him shaking with anger at his position at the snack bar.

he doesn't even really remember how he got here. from the moment he stepped out of the 4-kilometer limo, his entire night so far has been blurring together.

he remembers helping camie out of the limo, he remembers entering the auditorium, and he remembers the whispers. but he does not remember seeing you.

for a moment he believes that you've decided to stay home. for a moment he is convinced he can leave this dance early and go and talk to you at your dorm a day early.

but that's not the case.

god, he wishes that were the case because now he has to stand here, against the back wall of the dancefloor, and watch you dazzle the room as you switch between dance partners captivating every person who your hands meet.

izuku midoriya is the dumbest man in the world today because he hurt you yesterday, and there is nothing he can do about it until tomorrow.

so he has to fill his night with playing the wallflower role, watching you from a safe distance. not that he could get any closer if he wanted to. sero's been watching him since the night began and there was almost no way in hell that midoriya was getting to you without going through him first.

he watched wordlessly as bakugou, his nemesis, best friend, and the other things in between, entered the rotation. he twirled you up in the air, the most angelic giggles escaping from your lips, cries of laughter between pleas of mercy.

izuku wonders about the last time that smile was directed at him. he also wonders how discreetly he can activate one-for-all before bakugou notices and attacks him first.

it's been a long time since midoriya felt an ounce of jealousy toward his childhood friend. i mean, you live 14 years in a man's shadow and you think that's the most resentment you can feel towards him.

how shocking it must be to realize that years of childhood trauma don't even hold a candle to what he's feeling right now?

midoriya threw his head back downing the last of his overly sweet, potentially-spiked punch.

"drowning yourself in gross drinks doesn't help by the way," an unexpected voice called from beside him. izuku glanced over only to be met with the side profile of his good friend, ochaco.

she leaned against the wall cooly, bopping her head to the pop music playing, "have you spoken to her yet?"

"i haven't. sero's been playing guard dog all night," the freckled teen commented, reaching to pour himself another drink before his hand was swatted away by his friend.

"you gonna confess?"

"i mean in a normal circumstance you would. but i don't even have real confirmation that she likes me. i only have context clues, and todoroki's cryptic ass texts."

"you need more than that?"

"hearing her say it would be nice because the googly eyes she's making at kacchan right now aren't helping my confidence much." midoriya laughed drily, resting his face in his palms, "it also doesn't help that she thinks I have feelings for someone else."

"you've both really made a mess of things." she comments bluntly.

"thank you, that's helpful."

it's silent for a few moments after that, causing midoriya to turn his head and look at his friend. she appears contemplative with her furrowed eyebrows and the chewing of her bottom lip.

"you want help, deku? fine, i'll give you help. you're gonna have a window of 17 seconds to get to her without anyone intervening." she states, out of practically nowhere.

"i beg your pardon?"

"i'm going to distract sero and his date, it's going to take roughly 17 seconds before he realizes what's going on and turns around to get to y/n, by then, i expect you to already be there confessing your undying love or whatever," she explains as she stands up.

"i can't-"

"can't or won't?" she shuts him down immediately, already walking away before midoriya was able to get a word in at all.

instantaneously, uraraka is at work, she is delighting sero and his boyfriend, and they're laughing as midoriya is cutting through the crowd as inconspicuously as possible.

he finally reaches bakugou, who is no longer dancing with you and instead recording videos for kirishima and mina.

"where is y/n?" midoriya hurriedly asks.

"what took you so fucking long, idiot?" the irritated blonde inquired.

"doctor's orders: stay away from y/n."

"and you actually listened to that crap? psh, now i really know you're an idiot," bakugou rolls his eyes, "she's dancing with that metal fucker from 2b."

it doesn't take much effort to find tetsutetsu. the strobe lights on the dancefloor reflects off him making him an equal parts blinding disco ball and a beautiful one.

"tetsu, do you mind if i cut in?"

his voice immediately sends shivers up your spine, causing each individual hair on your body to stand on end.

please tetsu. please tetsu. please tetsu.

the downside to tetsu being metal is that he cannot feel the change in pressure applied to his body. because there's no way in hell he would've felt the vice grip you had on his shoulders and still assuredly and happily say, "go for it, bro! don't let me stop you!" and immediately step back into the crowd. that would've never happened.

unfortunately it did.

"don't run away. i need to talk to you." he exhaled, reading your thoughts in an instant, and practically cementing your feet in place.

you rolled you eyes sublty, crossing your arms over you chest hoping that this action will protect your heart from the incoming stabbing pain it will face.

i mean isn't it obvious why he wants to talk to you?

he saw you here with bakugou at some point during the night and he probably asked todoroki what was going on, and the jig was finally up. odd are he told him everything. and it's most likely he's flattered but uninterested.

this was izuku midoriya trying to let you down gently and god, did you feel pretty fucking pathetic.

you inhaled deepy as midoriya took your hand in his and pulled you close to him, making it impossible for him to not feel the rapid way in which your heart was beating. your face heated at the thought of him knowing just how nervous he made you.

you'd love to bathe in the warmth of his body and breathe in his pine scent, but you couldn't help but wonder where camie was. imagine how she'd feel if she saw you pressed up against her date like this.

before you could make a move to put distance between you and midoriya, he began speaking.

"are you thinking about, camie?" midoriya asked quietly, clearly able to read the expression on your face.

"yeah." you replied timidly.

"she's gone." he responded, emphasizing that last word.

you slowly raised your head, to meet his eyes for the first time since he arrived in the auditorium, "what?"

"she went to go see her boyfriend."

"i don't understand," you respond, a fog you didn't even realize was there to start with began to clear.

"i've been trying to tell you that camie and i were never together."

"but her twitter-"

"she was trying to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, which obviously it worked because she left within the first 20 minutes of us being here to be with him, which you would've noticed if you weren't avoiding me," he explained, taking your hand in his, "camie and i were never together. she and i were just using each other as a distraction from our problems. we are friends. nothing more nothing less,"

you stared at him in disbelief, the fog quickly turning into a red haze of anger, "why wouldn't you just tell me that from the beginning? and why did you even need to use camie? i mean, we'd gotten pretty close by that point, i don't understand why you couldn't confide in me, izuku," you say half to him, and half to yourself, ripping your hand out of his grasp in the process.

he loved hearing you say his first name, but not like this. not when you're angry with him.

"it is complicated," he frowned, defeat playing on his soft features.

"bullshit. you didn't trust me enough to talk to me about your problems. midoriya, i told you everything." you whisper-shouted, your heart jumping into your throat.

you'd quickly become very conscious of the fact that you were having this heated discussion in the middle of the dance floor surrounded by your peers. and it sure as hell didn't help that uraraka, sero, and, bakugou were all staring at you two from a distant spot on the wall of the dancefloor.

exasperated and mildly embarrassed, you unhook yourself from midoriya's steady grasp on your waist and storm your way out onto the balcony. he followed closely behind.

you thought the cold air would give you some clarity or maybe some kind of idea on how to navigate this conversation, but all it really did was anger you further, "why don't you trust me?" you choked out, tears brimming in your eyes.

"i- i do." midoriya pleaded.

"you don't!" you spat, turning your back to him and looking out to the musutafu skyline, finally allowing the tears to kiss your cheeks.

"you don't," you whispered, hanging your head, "you opted to rent a girlfriend and confuse the masses rather than just talk to me about your problems."

"how do you expect me to talk about my problems to the problem, y/n?" he finally snapped, turning you whole body to face him with one swift movement.

you pause, mulling over the weight of his words for a second.

"you're the problem, y/n." he starts, running an exasperated fist through his hair, "you've been the problem since the first time you messaged me. honestly, you've been the problem since we met!" he's pacing now, "seriously what did you want me to do? come to you and tell you how you're all i can think about and that all i wanna do is punch my best friend in the face because the girl i am hopelessly in love with loves him instead?"

he's in love with you?

izuku midoriya is in love with you?

your body is like a magnet, it moves all on it's own.

"you know, i had this whole speech i was gonna give you about how i was sorry for letting you think that even for an instant, there was another girl in my life that meant as much to me as you did-"

"oh, were you?" you cut in, stepping closer to him.

"-and i was going to tell you how sorry i am that i made you sad and that if you allowed me to do right by you, i would do everything in my power to make sure that you never felt sad again." he declares, breathless by the time he's finished his monologue.

"you have feelings for me?" you ask, inching closer to him.

"it's relatively impossible not to, y/n, have you met yourself?" he responds with a sigh, bringing his hand up to rub his forehead.

"poor taste." you quip, getting a rare eye roll from the boy in front of you.

"so, you started talking to camie to distract yourself from your feelings for me because you wanted me to be happy?" you question slowly, wanting to catch every change in reaction his face makes. you get a little closer.

"and you dropped todoroki without telling me because you thought i was into camie, and you wanted me to be happy?" he retorted. he's moving a little too.

a small laugh can't help but play in your throat before you deeply exhale, and bring your palm up to cup his freckled cheek. as if it were the most natural thing, he begins nuzzling into the warmth of your hand.

"i hate when he's right," you hum, thinking of your best friend and the first words he ever said to you when you mentioned involving midoriya in this whole mess, "he's never gonna let me live this down." you murmur, caressing the freckles under your thumb.

"when who is ri-" midoriya tries to inquire, but the words die in his throat, as you move towards him suddenly, lifting your head, and pressing your lips against his. after a few moments, you make a move to pull away, but the hand that wraps around your neck, and the other that holds your cheek holds you stationary, and simultaneously causes the kiss to deepen significantly. it does take much longer to confirm your suspicion that there is probably nothing else in the world you enjoy more than kissing izuku midoriya.

"wait, wait, wait," the greenette pulls away, earning a whiny groan from you, "as much i love that, i need to know what this means. i need to hear you say it."

"it means that i am hopelessly in love with you too. and that i'm sorry for putting you through that emotional rollercoaster. it means i am yours for as long as you'll have me." you sigh, resting your head on his shoulder.

"hm." midoriya hummed in satisfaction, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, "can we agree on something?"

"sure."

"when it comes to one another, let's vow to be eternally selfish."

"pft, vowing to have you all to myself forever?" you laugh, "consider it done."

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FUN FACT: i am a sucker for a happy ending.

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[taglist contd.] @adoringizu @charmingizu @killerqueen84 @imjustasimpxd @mehhhhhd @l0svers @charliepoopyfart @cocoa-bitter @itgetzweird08 @todomaniac @drugs-for-memes @3mcmarvelisruthless @mrsgrantspector @pastel-prynce @leathernourishingshoepolish @bruh-tato-chip @izukuisbaby @motzgurke @randombabywitch @xiaos-wif3 @deanstolemydragon @naladarkclouds @madebytinypals @beingbrokenfitsus @simplysaiyan @yes-imma-simppppppp @deitysnips @deeplightgarden @thesheepwithclaws @madamslayyy

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nonclassyparty · 2 years ago

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Starring Role - ACT IX (C.S; S.MG)

summary:

We’ve all read about the infamous player who falls in love with the good girl that manages to make him change his ways…but what happens to the other girl? The pretty, popular one that has warmed his bed before the good girl came along and took him away.

Well, no one cares about her. After all, she’s just a side character.

It almost feels like a joke to play a part, when you are not the starring role in someone else’s heart.

pairing: choi san x reader, song mingi x reader

warnings: violence near the end, little bit of smut, homophobic parents and just shit all over in general

wc: 11 k

taglist: @joonsthethicc @marievllr-abg @cookiechristie @purenjuniverse @hwamour @littleparkseonghwa @hwasong @hwadump @hongshines @kitty4hwa @knisterlicht @flamingi @revehosh @gayliljoong @naiify @btshook @atzcoke @circusjanreblogs @baguette-atiny @kpopnightingale @raineadlr @ilikepalta @m4rsluv @smimingi @bubbleteakittyy @mingkiyoo @theactresstarringinurbadreams @mangishii @cryingaboutskz @y2ksturniolo @layzfeelit @khjssss @rdiamond2727 @adajoemaya @outrologist @smuchsmut @flaminghotcheetoos @dogsongy @seesaw-jk @seojonneh @hyukssunflower @haatohwa @wonwowzers @downbadreading @moonchele @leeknowsnothing @noone356097 @raspberryhong @xciiiomwliah @belle643 @doom-fics @cutesince2000

act viii / masterlist / act x

A/N: WELL WELL WELL...look what the cat dragged in. here it is guys, i whipped this up real quick bc i was feeling better these last couple of days and had some actual time to write!! hope you enjoy <3

"There's a moment in the buddleia's lifecycle, purple flowers blooming, cabbage white butterflies flitting, when it's beautiful and triumphant, sprouting out of the broken wall without an ounce of earth to flourish in. That's what we humans have to do, I think whenever I see it, keep blooming despite the barren circumstances we sometimes find ourselves in. After a few weeks the buddleia becomes a weed again, , with grime-splattered leaves and crispy brown flowers that never fall off. You can only fight so hard, and for so long, before your environment engulfs you." ― Viv Albertine, To Throw Away Unopened

"Seonghwa keeps calling me."

Your eyes pull away from the re-runs of an old sitcom playing on the TV and fall to Wooyoung sitting beside you on the couch. He's freshly showered and already dressed in his pajamas, damp hair falling over his forehead and dark circles under his eyes that show how tired he is.

"I told him you're staying with me." Wooyoung continues in a hesitant tone, casting a glance at you. "He seems worried."

"Oh." Is your only response as you grab the remote again to flick through the channels, hoping it will distract you enough.

"Y/N," He starts softly, glancing at you again before quickly looking away. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Your finger freezes on the button of the remote and you pursue your lips as you stare at the screen.

Wooyoung has been a tremendous help, letting you stay at his place, covering all the costs for now because you have very little cash left in your wallet and always, always offering to talk about it.

You've successfully dodged it up until now. Derailed every conversation from taking any serious routes, threw a question back as an answer to his question and disappeared to his guest bedroom on more than one occasion just to avoid his eyes on you.

But today, it's harder.

Maybe because you haven't left this apartment for two days since you didn't have any classes, haven't spoken to anybody but him in more than a week now, barely ate and were in a desperate need of a shower.

But your defenses were down.

The remote falls out of your hand to the couch and you heave a deep sigh, not having the courage to look him in the eye.

"I almost killed myself three days after my graduation."

When Wooyoung stills beside you, you take a quick glance at him from the corner of your eye before groaning. "It was stupid."

"I," You start, turning to see his wide eyes trained on you before looking at the TV again. Well, you said it so you might as well start from the beginning. "I started taking medication for panic attacks when I was sixteen after one of my dad's partner's son tried to...well, he managed to get me alone at a charity event and tried to...do whatever it is he planned to do."

"Nothing happened." You quickly reassure him, although the memories still bring a sour feeling in your chest, "A staff walked past the room we were in and managed to get him off of me and called my parents."

A bitter smile raises to your lips. Your dad still continued to work with him because the father of the guy promised him benefits for the company just so the entire incident with his son remained hushed up.

"Whatever. None of that is important." You wave off again despite Wooyoung not saying anything, just staring at you with a sad frown. "The point is that I couldn't handle any...events we had after that."

"What do you mean?" He whispers with brows furrowed and you throw your head back to rest on the couch.

"I'd...I was scared that something like that would happen again. I mean-...I mean my parents obviously didn't care enough and I was scared that it would happen again with some other company heir, that he'd drag me somewhere and this time nobody will find us on time." You explain hurriedly, tears already brimming your lower lash line. "You've been to those parties, Wooyoung, you know how they go. I'm not saying all of the guys I met there were bad, some of them were pretty sweet actually, treated me like a little sister and shit but anyways, my mom got sick of me breaking down before every gala or charity even or whatever so...so she started giving me those pills."

"And none of them were with a prescription either." You chuckle humorlessly, running a hand through the strands of hair falling out of your ponytail.

"Nothing is wrong with her, she's just being dramatic." Your mother waves off Seonghwa's concerns. "What do you want us to do, Seonghwa? Take her to a therapist? So the entire world starts talking about how crazy she is? You know how people are! They would talk!"

"Mom, she's not crazy-"

"Exactly! She's fine."

"Like a real suburban housewife, she had a fucking pharmacy in her bathroom cupboard." You chuckle again, fiddling with your thumbs and noticing how some shitty reality show is playing on the TV now. "Prozac, Zoloft, Klonopin, Valium, Xanax...I don't even know how she got them but it was a junkie's dream come true."

You glance at Wooyoung again, the pitiful expression on his face making you want to curl in on yourself. But you can't now. You have to continue, finish what you started.

"I was so young so she'd give me half of a pill before whatever we were going to." "What are they for?" "It's to help calm you down." "A doctor gave you these-?" "Just take it and stop asking questions." "For what they were, they worked."

"But very fast, half a pill wasn't enough anymore so she started giving me one whole." You bite your lip as the memories resurface. "I barely remember a single even we've been on as a family between the ages of sixteen and eighteen."

"So..." Wooyoung clears his throat and you turn to look at him again. His eyes are soft and mouth turned downwards. "So they sent you to rehab for that?"

You laugh a little, "I wish. I wish that's all it was."

At his frown, you continue.

" I wasn't scared of taking it because I thought I was above becoming an addict. I had my head screwed on right for the most part so I thought I was smart and resilient enough to know when to stop." But you weren't. You were weak. A heap of skin and bones, barely working together ran by a brain that couldn't survive by itself.

The girl you see every time you look into the mirror, only at the time, there was no rust, no moss and no bent out of shape nails for smiles. She was shiny and new. Ready to take on the world.

"You know, athletes often become addicts because they suffer an injury and get prescribed pain killers and they get hooked. Your brain starts tricking you that there's pain when there isn't so you continue taking them and ..." You trail off with a sigh, "That's what happened. I told myself they were for panic attacks and anxiety before these parties but then it slowly turned to panic attacks and anxiety before school and then panic attacks for my fuckin' trig homework until I was taking a couple a day."

Wooyoung is quiet besides you and you don't blame him. You wouldn't know what to say either, never that good at comforting others.

"Then I met Jiyeon, he...he was my first boyfriend I guess." Tall, dark and handsome. And always with a different opium in his pockets. "He sold pills to me. Not panic attack medication but pills."

"By senior year, I was an addict. I'd snort shit at parties, have stashes in my room, knew what to say and where to find drugs..." You blink up at the ceiling. "This is getting too fucking long of a story."

"I don't care. What happened next?" Wooyoung asks, not pushing but asking in a way that shows that he cares.

You look at him again, hesitating.

"Y/N, you can tell me." He whispers and your eyes water as you suck in a harsh breath.

"I barely saw Seonghwa during my senior year, he was doing internships and it's not like it matters either, I probably wouldn't have remembered even if I did. But senior year happened, you know, college applications and all that fun stuff." Popping your lips, you wrap your arms around yourself. "I was always supposed to study business, like him."

Wooyoung nods in understanding.

"But I didn't want to. At the time, it seemed like a long shot but I sent in an application for art school as well. And I got in." You shake your head, memories of that spring resurfacing. Of the happiness and hope you felt just for the rug to be pulled from under your feet. "Long story short; I got in and told my parents and they said 'no'."

"I don't want to hear of it again."

"But dad-"

"Y/N. This is your last warning."

"Three days after I graduated, I had a big fucking argument with my parents over it. I kept pushing and pushing, asking and begging...but they didn't change their minds." Turning to Wooyoung with tears in your eyes, you continue. "It might sound fucking stupid and dramatic and bratty but studying what they wanted seemed like a death sentence for me. I just couldn't do it. I...it wouldn't stop with just college, I knew it."

"They would have me for life Wooyoung. After college, it would be to work where they wanted me to and then I would marry someone they pick out for me and then I'd life with my shitty husband in a place they would choose and it would just go on and on and on..." The first tear slips out, "At least it seemed like it at the time."

He's tearing up as well and you can't bare to look at him anymore so you turn to face the TV again. The shame and guilt that you've felt since that day resurfacing and becoming all too much.

"That night I just wanted to forget. I don't think I tried to kill myself, I don't...I don't know. I don't remember but I did want to forget so I took a bunch of pills and mixed it with vodka and..."

You don't remember anything from that night after the first pill.

"Seonghwa found me." You sniffle, "They were at a charity event hosted by my uncle and he came home early and found me in my room."

"Hwa..." You whisper hoarsely, the harsh lights of the hospital room digging into your skull. Your tongue felt like sandpaper.

Seonghwa just sits in the chair by your bed and stares at you. Dark, tired eyes with circles underneath them serving as proof of the unslept days.

You reach out for his hand only to get pushed away.

"How could you do that?" He chokes out, eyes shaking and once the realization hits you, your own eyes start watering.

"Hwa..." Is all you can say.

"Don't fucking call me that. How could you do this?" He mutters, eyes hollow and cheeks sunken, "Did you ever stop for a second and think about your family?"

"I'm sorry-"

"Sorry doesn't fucking cut it this time, Y/N." Seonghwa snaps and your bottom lip trembles at the harsh words. "You could've fucking died. I thought you were gone!"

"I didn't mean to..." You softly cry out, "I just...I didn't..."

"You're going to rehab." He interrupts you and your lips part at the admission.

"W-what?"

"You heard me. Mom already made the calls, you're going in a week."

"I don't need to go anywhere, I'm fine-!"

"You're fine." Seonghwa laughs sarcastically, standing up from his seat and turning his back to you. "You were choking on your own fucking vomit, don't tell me you're fine! You have a fucking problem, Y/N! A serious one, a problem that could ruin your life!"

"Hwa-"

"Don't." He whispers, turning to you with empty eyes, "Don't call me that anymore."

"They said I was in London that summer, right?" You ask with a bitter smile and chuckle at Wooyoung's nod, "London my ass. I was on a ranch somewhere in Iowa, listening to people talk to me about Jesus and finding the right path for four months."

"No contact with the outside world. They didn't even call the whole summer until my dad did one morning." You sigh heavily, "Said I could study art if something like this never happened again and I agreed. Art was the most important thing, it had to be."

The worst part wasn't that Seonghwa hated you. It wasn't even that you were completely alone and could only rely on the support of strangers that barely spoke Korean for those four excruciating months. It was, in the end, that your parents really could care less whether you lived or died because the most important thing always was that nobody else was allowed to find out.

Think of your image. Think of what people would say. Think of the family.

"So that's pretty much it." You snort, glancing at Wooyoung before looking away with a nervous giggle. "My sob story."

When he remains stoic, you chuckle again awkwardly, "What? Well, I know it might not be as exciting as you expec-"

Warms arms wrap around you until you're engulfed by the scent of Wooyoung's laundry detergent clinging to the material of his hoodie and the sentence dies out at the tip of your tongue.

"Y/N, you'll always have me. No matter what." A squeak leaves you at Wooyoung's words whispered against your hair and the first sob can't be contained anymore until you're loudly crying against him as his hands rub your back in a way that can only be done for someone you you truly love. You think it feels like family.

And it makes you cry harder.

The days continue to trickle by, time stopping for no-one and you continue to go to classes and straight back home. You don't respond to Seonghwa's messages and San's remain unanswered as well.

It's only Wooyoung and you and the little routine you've established.

You can't even remember the last time you've seen Hongjoong. You didn't try to reach out to him but neither did he. Which was okay, you suppose.

Nothing happened between the two of you but people just grow apart. You're not entirely sure just how close you were to Hongjoong in the first place. You guess that it had a lot to do with Mingi and the absence of your study sessions in the library. They're the only thing that tied you to Hongjoong in the first place.

You're freshly showered, sitting on the floor of Wooyoung's guest bedroom and trying to sort out a portfolio that you plan on sending off to galleries and praying someone deems it good enough so you can get some money. It's becoming too embarrassing to look Wooyoung in the eye every time he pays for your meal or buys you basic stuff like shampoo and pads.

You know it's nothing for him because he has money, he's as rich as you are...well, were but it's still uncomfortable. You're not used to being anyone's charity case.

The phone buzzes on the carpet next to you and you know it's another message from San so you don't even bother checking it.

Wooyoung quietly walks into the room and climbs up on your bed and you don't pay him much thought, thinking that he's probably bored or something.

"Hey, can we talk?" He asks softly and you turn to look at him in surprise, not used to his serious demeanor before nodding and turning to face him completely from the floor.

"Yeah, what's up?"

Wooyoung clears his throat, "I scheduled brunch with my parents tomorrow and...I plan to tell them. That I'm gay."

"Oh shit." You can't even hide the surprise on your face, "Okay..."

He chuckles, "Well, we both know how that's going to go..."

You observe the way he avoids your eyes and fidgets in his seat but you have no idea how to comfort him. What to do or say. You can't imagine how he's feeling.

"Do...do you want to talk about it?" You ask awkwardly and he quickly shakes his head.

"No, no. I was just...I was thinking, you know how you got into that fancy summer program and in Paris? You got a scholarship as well, right?"

Pausing for a moment, you already have a feeling you know where this conversation is headed.

"Yeah?"

"So, I was thinking," Wooyoung looks at you with his puppy eyes, the hoodie he was wearing swallowing him whole and making him look much smaller than he actually is. "What if we both go. To Paris."

You blanch, "What?"

"I have some money saved up. It's not a lot but it would be enough to get us through the first couple of months if we learn to budget properly." He shrugs while your mouth is still hanging open. "I mean, we'd have to get jobs eventually, once we're settled in but I could get my master's there and you could go to your school..."

"Wooyoung," You scoff with a nervous smile, "We can't go to Paris."

"Why not?" He questions with a frown.

"Why-...why do you want to go so badly?"

Wooyoung goes quiet and neither one of you moves from your positions. Your gaze doesn't stray away from him, sitting on the bed with his legs criss-crossed.

"After I tell my parents... and they basically say I'm dead to them...then what? Like, what do I do?" He asks with a humorless chuckle, fingers picking at the threads of the comforter.

"You..." There's a pause because you feel like a shitty friend. You want to be there for him like he's been for you but you just don't know how. Swallowing, you continue with determination. "You live your life the way you want to then."

Wooyoung laughs a little at that. "But that's the thing. I don't think I can do that here."

With a frown, you open your mouth to protest but he's quicker.

"I want to be myself so badly, Y/N, but I don't know how to do that here without feeling like an anomaly or something." He explains and your heart aches at the shakiness of his voice. "I don't want anyone here looking at me or talking about me or-"

"Wooyoung-"

"No. You know they will, you know how they are!" He says louder and your mouth clamps shut at the tears in his eyes, "I don't-..." A small groan escapes him as he rubs his eyes, "I want to go somewhere and start fresh and meet new people and show them a new Wooyoung and maybe figure out who Wooyoung actually fucking is!"

You clamber from your seat on the floor and up the bed towards him, when your gazes meet Wooyoung quickly diverts his eyes, scratching his cheek.

"I'm tired and being here...in this city...in this fucking country...it's suffocating." He explains quietly, mouth turned downwards. "I don't care if that makes me a pussy but yes, I want to fucking run away as far as I can."

"It doesn't." You softly reassure him.

You both stay quiet, shoulders brushing and breathing synced. The silence is heavy but words seem to fall short on both of you.

Glancing at Wooyoung from the corner of your eyes, "How long have you felt that way?"

He snorts, "Years."

The way he seems utterly defeated tugs at your heartstrings and hugging him would be the best option but it's so unlike you. Which is selfish and another proof of how shitty of a friend you are but you can't bare to show that kind of affection just yet.

"I know it's a small thing, I mean, we'd be moving to another continent for fuck's sake..." Wooyoung starts, lips folded into a devastating pout, "But this isn't something I just came up with because I was bored, I've been thinking about it for weeks now."

"If you think it's a stupid idea, then okay," He shrugs, turning to you with a small smile, "I just thought it was worth a shot to bring it up."

You lick your lips, looking around the room and trying to get your thoughts in check.

Moving to Paris seemed unimaginable, even when Professor Ahn first brought up the idea but you would be lying if you said the thought of it didn't excite you. Even then.

But could you really leave everything behind and just...go?

The realization that you don't have much left in the first place causes something heavy to settle in your stomach. What would you really be leaving behind? Who would you be leaving behind?

"How about we think about it some more." You say in the end and it seems to be enough for Wooyoung for the time being, at least, because he nods with soft eyes.

In the morning, you wake up when your alarm goes off and start getting ready for classes, not expecting Wooyoung to be up just yet but he surprises you when you find him sitting by the counter with a mug of coffee in his hand.

You already said it, you can't imagine how he feels knowing he's going to tell something to his parents that might ruin his relationship with them forever but you can tell he's scared. His leg keeps bouncing up and down and he's fidgety.

You try stalling while you're having breakfast, trying to come up with comforting words that might put him at ease just a little. But he's avoidant, opts for making small talk about the weather instead and commenting on your outfit.

After you put on your light jacket and have your bag draped over your shoulder, you stop in the kitchen on your way to the door.

Wooyoung's back is facing you as he sits on one of the stools, staring at the marble counter and you gently place a hand on his back.

"Wooyoung," You call out gently and he hums in response not looking back. "No matter what happens today, it's going to be alright."

You cringe at your own words. That's how far your comfort can go for the time being and you wish you could offer him more because it's the least he deserves but you just don't know how.

"I know." He mutters before turning to you with a small smile that seems anything but sure and nodding again. "I know."

You nod as well.

"Okay."

It's like you're sitting on needles for the remainder of the day.

You breeze through the classes, not awfully bothered that you're not paying attention because it's the end of the year anyways and you passed all your subjects already. Every time your phone buzzes, you flinch expecting to see a message from Wooyoung telling you to rush back home but it's never him. It's San.

San: wanna hang out tonight?

You lock your phone back and take a deep breath, having already too much on your mind to think about San.

When you come back home, your new home, it's empty. Wooyoung is still not back and you begin to grow worried.

So you throw yourself into small chores around the place like placing the dishes from breakfast into the dishwasher and folding the laundry that sat on the corner of the couch in the living room for the past three days. When you change out of your clothes into a pair of leggings and a shirt and take off your make-up, you hear the front door open and close and you rush out to the hallway.

Wooyoung is taking off his shoes once you walk into the main space of the apartment and he arrives from the hallway, eyes rimmed red and looking absolutely exhausted.

You already feel the sadness kick in.

"Hey." You greet him softly, with wide and unsure eyes.

"Hey." He croaks out, rubbing his nose before throwing the keys of his car on the counter. He's avoiding your eyes.

"Uh," You wring your hands, biting your lip, "H-how did it go?"

"As expected." Wooyoung laughs but it reaches nowhere near his eyes and you know it's all pretend.

Like an idiot, you just stand in front of him as words fail you. Once again.

"I mean, I knew it was going to happen so.." He quickly adds with a chuckle, "It's stupid that I'm upset, I was literally preparing myself for this so...it's just dumb-"

"Wooyoung-"

"I'm not even upset, it's not a big deal. I hate them anyways so...w-who cares right?" Tears well in his eyes but the smirk doesn't slip, "Like, at least I'm free now right? I can do whatever I want and-"

This time, you don't hesitate like you did yesterday. You don't think if it's going to be awkward or out of character, you just move. Your arms wrap around him and it's all that takes for him to break, for the soft raspy sobs to start wrecking through his frame as he latches onto you and his head buries into your neck.

"It's okay." You softly console him, rubbing his back, "I'm sorry Wooyoung, you're going to be okay. I promise..."

"Y/N." He cries into your hair, fingers curling around the material of your shirt, "What did I do? W-what did I do? I shouldn't have-"

"I promise, Wooyoung." You swear to him, "I know it's hard but I promise."

You hold your best friend as he falls apart in your arms and you think about what family really is. Could people that make you cry this hard ever be family? Or maybe both Wooyoung and you have just been born into the wrong one.

You wonder how both of you would've turned out if things were different.

It's not important now. Nothing matters.

Nothing matters beside your promise. An oath you make to yourself that you will do your best for Wooyoung to be happy. Like he deserves to be.

As the days pass by, you start thinking about Paris more and more. It seems more enticing with each passing hour and soon enough, you start imagining Wooyoung and you sharing an apartment (maybe smaller than this one because you both are going to be broke pretty soon).

Away from your family, away from Wooyoung's family, away from San, away from the prying eyes and expectations. Away from everyone.

From: park_yn.hotmail.com ahn.sooyoung.outlook.com

To: ahn.sooyoung.outlook.com

Do I need to prepare any documents for the application to Beaux-whatever? Not saying I'm going but heard Paris is super romantic during the winter. Better be safe than sorry.

P.S. Sorry for being mean to you (although you kind of deserved it but I'm trying this new thing out where I act like an adult or something)

As you quietly (and secretly) start collecting the needed documents and papers for the program, you remember the one thing you have to do. One last thing.

San.

You want to see him, just one more time and then you swear to yourself that you will be done.

You're not entirely too sure about that but you're trying to be resilient and you think you owe it to yourself to see him one last time. After fawning over him for over 2 years now, hell yeah, you do.

At first, you console yourself saying it's to get closure but you know that's a damn lie.

There is no closure in this story, there is no ending because nothing has ever even begun. You just want to indulge in him one last time because even after all the pain and heartbreak, Choi San is the hardest drug to get off of.

You will smile at him one last time. Have sex with him one last time. And then bid him goodbye.

And then you will book two tickets to Paris and get as far away from him as possible just so you don't feel the temptation again.

If there was one thing you learned by now, it was not to lie to Wooyoung.

Even though you figure that not telling him where you were going wasn't exactly a lie but hiding it wasn't exactly too far off. And you don't do that anymore, you don't lie to Wooyoung.

"I'm going to see San."

Wooyoung pauses behind the cluttered dinning room table, slowly lifting his head up to meet your eyes. The disappointment in them is evident.

It's been a week since he told his parents and he's been keeping himself busy with hobbies that he picks up on a whim and then drops only days later. You never protest though, sometimes you even join him.

Doing puzzles was fun. So was trying to make your own candy.

"Why?" He asks quietly and you swallow, fiddling with your fingers.

"Because," You start, taking a couple of steps towards him, "This is the last time."

He goes silent again, eyes falling to the table. You know he has a plethora of words already lined up for you but it seems like he learned something as well. You'll do what you want anyways.

"Why do you think that's something he deserves?" Wooyoung questions, anger hidden in his tone as he looks up at you once again. You give him props for holding his composure this well.

"I'm not doing it for him. I'm doing it for me." You whisper, biting your lip. "I spent too much time being...whatever it was w-with him and...I just want to do this. One last time."

He stares at you, warm brown eyes filled with uncertainty before eventually, he nods.

"Alright. You do what you need to do." Wooyoung agrees, eyes still on you, "One last time."

You take the bus to San's dorm because that's something you do know. You travel by public fucking transportation. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

As you walk up the steps to his apartment, you can't help but get reminded of the time of your art show where Choi San broke your heart by breaking another promise.

Yeosang opens the door, as per usual.

The snarky greeting is missing and you have a feeling you know why but you don't let your mind stay on it too long, no matter how much it pisses you off. The last thing you need is Kang Yeosang of all people pitying you.

"He's in his room." He says quietly and you just nod in response and make your way to San's bedroom.

After two soft knocks, San opens the door dressed in sweatpants and a simple T-Shirt, with hair still wet presumably from a shower. Immediately, you're overcome by the smell of his shampoo and just...him.

"Hey." He smiles lightly, letting you enter.

"Hi." You respond back with a shaky smile, looking around his room as if you're seeing it for the first time.

It's still the same, only the desk is a bit cleaner probably because exams have passed and San, no doubt, aced all of them.

"You weren't responding for weeks." He chuckles, closing the door behind him and watching as you walk over to his desk to lean on it. "I thought you found yourself a new boy-toy or something."

You chuckle at that as well, gazing out his window to avoid his eyes. "Nope. No new boy-toy."

The memories of the first time you ever walked into this room surface up and you remember how absolutely smitten you were with Choi San. You remember the hope and fervour you felt to make him yours.

Now, it's just sad.

"So then why didn't you?" His voice brings you back to reality. You turn to him, confused. "Respond. Why didn't you?"

San poses the question with an unusual hardness, as if he knows something you don't.

"Oh. I was just busy." You wave him off. Yeah, just busy and definitely not trying to piece myself up after you took advantage of my blind trust and took a big, fat shit all over it. Also, I got kicked out of my family and am leeching off of my best friend who is about to be as broke as me. Sorry San, you weren't exactly a priority.

"Busy?" He scoffs and you cock your head to the side in confusion once again, not understanding the sudden hostility.

Maybe San realizes how that came out and he quickly seems to recollect himself. You watch him take a deep breath and features soften.

"I know, Y/N."

You freeze at that, eyes boring into his and mind going into overdrive. What does he know? He knows that you overheard him?

Fuck.

That would make you look so weak and pathetic which is the last thing you want.

'Upset that I spilled your secrets, princess? Well maybe you shouldn't have been a naive idiot and told them to me in the first place.'

You can already imagine him saying that. San was good at a lot of things. Sex and math being just a couple examples out of many but he was an expert at being cruel.

"You know what?" You ask carefully, gripping the edge of his desk.

San chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head.

"I know about you and Yunho."

Relief floods through you, no matter how awkward the situation just became. He doesn't know shit.

"Oh." You breathe out, your posture relaxing.

"Yeah, he told me." He nods, running a hand through his hair before settling them both on his hips. "I'm not mad or anything, I mean I have no right to be mad-"

"Yeah, you don't." You interrupt quickly, watching his face tighten for a split second you think you might've imagined it.

"So you didn't have to avoid my texts." He chuckles lightly, playing with the ends of his shirt and you realize that he seems awkward. "I mean, we're fuckin' friends aren't we?"

You stare at him, wondering if he knows how big of a hypocrite he is. You wonder if he even remembers how many times he left you high and dry, ghosting you for days on end and then just coming back without a single explanation.

You wonder how can he so easily lie to you, call you his friend and then break a promise he made to you and betray your trust like it's nothing.

"Yeah."

"So, are you two like..." He trails off, the words seemingly bitter on his tongue. "Are you two together now or something? Or, like, you plan on making it a casual thing with him-"

"No." You quickly say, "It was just a one time thing."

"Oh, okay." San chuckles, brows furrowed as he seems more at ease now. "Then you really didn't have to avoid me. I thought you were into him now or something and you didn't know how to break it to me or whatever...

"Nope," You shake your head with pursued lips, "And I wasn't avoiding you, I really was just busy."

"Okay, busy with what?" San sighs out, sitting down on his bed.

It irks you that now is when he wants to know about what you're up to. Why now out of all the times before?

Still, you play along. The invitation to his attention looking far too tempting not to at least indulge a little.

"Just stuff." You shrug. "I moved to a new place so I was busy with settling in and you know, exams..."

He hums, "You got a new place-?"

"Look, San, let's just jump right into it." You wave off whatever question he had for you with a fake smile, "We both know why we're here so let's start with the part where we get naked."

San looks you over, rubbing his lips together and seemingly in deep thought before he nods.

"Alright. Come here?" He softly calls out, holding a hand out for you and you nod with a heavy breath before walking over to him just to be immediately pulled into his lap.

You're all too familiar with the rest.

Lips brushing against your cheek, down your neck. Calloused fingers brushing your bare waist and taking off your shirt, warm hands gripping your thighs in just the right way.

And you take your time with him as well. Doing your very best to memorize him.

The slope of his nose, the arc of his brows, the fullness of his lips. The way his strong arms feel around you and his thighs beneath you. The firmness of his chest and the soft skin. His scent. San.

Having sex with San so many times by now made him aware of when you needed it and how you wanted it to go. It's not a spectacular trait of his but right now, he could probably feel the sadness. He knows something is wrong but he won't ask because he doesn't exactly care.

But sex was always the sole center of your agreement with him so you can always trust him with that at least. And that means he will slow things down for you. His touches will be softer, the kisses pressed to your neck slower and the way he moves his hips will be gentler.

If your heart wasn't breaking over and over again and if tears weren't threatening to spill at any given moment - you would've been able to enjoy it fully. But even with the tears and the sadness and the pain, it's still nice. Bittersweet.

He presses his forehead to yours, eyes fluttered shut as his thrusts continue their slow but calculated pace. You make sure to run your fingers through his dark hair one last time, just so you can try and memorize the way it feels under your fingertips.

You freeze for a split second when his lips brush yours. It's accidental and you observe San's reaction from your barely open eyes.

He's staring at your lips, his own slightly parting and for an actual moment you think he might kiss you.

You don't know if you wanted him to.

You always wanted to kiss San, have been wondering how his lips might feel on yours for as long as you've known him but you know... You know.

You know if he kisses you now, it's going to be over.

He will have you tied to him forever because you won't be able to let go and the thought excites you almost as much as it scares you.

This isn't love but you wanted for it to be so badly.

A lone tear slips down your cheek once San seemingly makes up his mind and presses his lips to your cheek instead, soft breaths panning across your skin as a small moan escapes you and he brushes the tear under your eye with his thumb.

You come and so does he. And now you want nothing more than to disappear.

San's habit of cuddling and lazily kissing your skin after sex persists even now.

You can feel his thumb brush your temple as his fingers get tangled in your hair. His lips cascading down the side of your neck as his other hand lays by your head, fingers intertwined with your own.

This time, you can't allow it.

You've given him enough of yourself. More than you've given anyone else.

You push at his chest weakly but he takes the hint, gently pulling out and then rolling off of you with a surprised grunt once you push at him with more force.

Immediately, you sit up even with your head still foggy from the orgasm and letting your bare feet hit the cold floor as you reach for your skirt that was discarded next to the bed.

You can feel San's eyes on you and you don't have the courage to look back or say anything so you just focus on getting dressed as quickly as possible.

"You're-..." His voice cracks and he clears his throat quickly, the sheets ruffling behind you, "You're leaving?"

"Yeah." You say weakly, trying to hide the shaking of your voice as you pull your shirt on.

"Oh," He breathes out and you hate that your mind is conjuring up the disappointment in his voice. He's not disappointed because he doesn't give a fuck. "I thought we could finish that show we started before I left...We have three more episodes-"

"Can't." You interrupt quickly, chuckling a little bit to try and seem as carefree as possible, "I have an assignment I need to turn in tomorrow, so..."

"Oh, okay..."

After your socks and shoes are pulled on, you stand up and pull your jacket on, back still turned to him. He breaks the silence again when you reach for your bag.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

You pause at the question.

There are two options now.

One is to let the hinges fly open from your face and to turn around and finally let Choi San find out what actually hides behind the perfect facade. To allow him to see all the mechanisms, rusty screws and nails that mold your face. San said that looking at you was like looking into a mirror, so would it really make a difference if you showed him what you see every time you look into the mirror?

The other option is to, one last time, fake a smile and get the fuck out. In the end, that's what you go with.

You turn to him, mouth quirking up in a convincing smile and you know it's convincing because you're a good liar.

"Yeah," You shrug with a breathy giggle but he just stares in response. The covers are draped across his hips and he looks devastatingly beautiful. Why couldn't you just love me? "I'm just a little bit stressed...because of that assignment."

"I'm sure it will be fine." He muses and you nod in response with another crooked smile, heading towards the door.

You grip the door knob. "Y/N."

San is still looking at you, sitting up in his bed as he smiles the same smile that got you into this mess with him in the first place. Dimples and all.

"I'll see you around?"

You chuckle before nodding again, pulling the door open. "Sure."

"Bye." He bids sweetly and you laugh again, tears brimming your eyes and you quickly turn around before he can see them and head through the door.

"Goodbye, San."

You will never see him again.

Back on that steep hill, where you've been twirling with San for the past two years with his hands tightly gripping yours and the harsh winds whipping around you,

"Let go, Y/N!" San yells with a smile, his laugh sounding like bells chiming, "Let go! It will be so good, just let go!"

You've been holding on for far too long. Your hands are cramping up from gripping onto him, your cheeks are sore from the harsh wind slicing through them. Your hair wraps around your throat but you still hesitate.

"Let go, Y/N!" San laughs again but it's distorted and he seems blurry, "Let go of my hands, there's no use anymore!"

Your fingers relax their hold on his slightly but your feet still have the same quick pace.

You want to be set free.

"Let go!" San yells.

And so you do.

You let go and the strong winds sweep you up from the grass and you fly off the cliff like you were placed on a catapult.

The weeping stars greet you from above and then it's gravity pulling you down until you're swept by the fuchsia colored waves.

You drown.

You walk back to Wooyoung's apartment.

It's almost an hour walk. It's the middle of spring and everything is waking up around you. The trees are particularly green, the flowers are starting to bloom, kids are starting to play in the park across the street again and owners of establishments that you pass by are starting to place tables and chairs on the clean terraces.

Spring was your favorite time of the year.

Now, you don't even notice it. You just numbly walk past everything.

Wooyoung is rustling through the cupboards of the living room when you walk in and you would walk straight past him if he didn't stop you.

"Hey, have you seen my Airpods? I swear I left them here somewhere..." You don't respond, just stare blankly at the beige carpet on the living room floor, not even noticing that you're crying. "Y/N, are you even listening to me- What's wrong?"

As always, he drops everything and rushes to you with a concerned look on his face and grips your elbows.

"Was it San? Did he do something again?"

You laugh shakily, the tears streaming down your cheeks as you stare at him.

His hair is much longer now than it was when you first became friends. Midnight black and disheveled, face bare but still pretty. Pretty tan skin and matching moles. In a soft oversized T-Shirt and sweatpants, feet bare.

"I'll kick his ass! I mean it!"

You laugh again at that, Wooyoung couldn't hurt a fly. Especially not San.

You look around his living room, your living room. A space you've been sharing for these couple of weeks but it feels much longer. There is your painting aisle in the corner and Wooyoung's work out gear right next to it. The couch is messy, mismatched pillows and Wooyoung's favorite blanket draped on it. The dining room table is cluttered with hobbies that Wooyoung took interest in, recently or a long time ago, unfinished DIY projects and your make-up mixed together, your sketching pencils, papers, books. There is a sketch of him that you made not too long ago, sitting prettily framed on the wooden commode near the TV.

So many memories and reminders of how your lives are intertwined and that from now on until the end, Wooyoung and you are a package deal. You don't need anyone else by your side, just him.

You reach out to touch his cheek, an overwhelming feeling of gratefulness and fondness hitting you out of nowhere.

Wooyoung. Your best friend. Your favorite person in the world. Your rock.

Your Wooyoung.

"Y/N, what happened?" He asks gently, hand placed over yours that rested on his cheek.

The decision was made a long time ago, you knew that. You were simply too scared to bring it up because bringing it up would make it real but it was bound to happen.

Both alone, scared and wanting to run away.

There is nothing here for either one of you anymore.

"Wooyoung-ah, let's go to Paris."

Bonus:

As San munches on half of an ice cream sandwich he stole from Jongho while they both sit on the outside stairs of his dorm building, he can't help but think about you.

San doesn't think about you all too much if he was honest but...

It was weird.

The last time you were together, you were weird.

And San usually praises himself in being able to read people, no matter how dumb and aloof he sometimes acts because he doesn't want to acknowledge someone's feelings since it's simply easier, he wasn't able to read you last time. For once, you were a closed book and it was fucking weird.

At first, he really thought you had something going on with Yunho behind his back and were planning on ditching San so you could be with him. Dammit, even a month later and he still can't digest the fact that Yunho slept with you.

Thankfully, Yunho is as pure-hearted as they come for most part and was quick to reassure San that nothing is going on between you and him once he starts bringing the same girl more than once back to his room.

And since Yunho is that type of guy, you know...the relationship type, San can only assume that's his next girlfriend.

He doesn't even understand why he's worrying about it so much.

It's not like San would ever date you. You two would be a disaster together and he's nice enough to spare you of that.

But it's also not like he didn't enjoy your company during the last couple of months where you both started calling each other friends.

You were nice to be around.

If things were different and San wasn't...well, San then he could definitely see himself being very close friends with you.

The way you tease him and put him back in his place is funny sometimes, he enjoys the banter. It's refreshing.

Still, nothing explains why you ghosted him like that after he went back home for the holidays.

Were you trying to give him a taste of his own medicine? Because it wasn't pleasant, he always knew that it wouldn't be pleasant to be on the receiving end of it but it never stopped him from doing it to other people.

Well, it's not like San was losing sleep over you not texting back or something. He always had options.

It's just that you were his favorite one.

So after seeing his favorite one after a month of second-bests, he wasn't buying the excuse of you being busy or that you had an assignment due that made you leave so quickly.

God, he was starting to sound like one of his girls.

He stopped feeling embarrassed for that awhile back. Recently, he learned that he's attached to you.

Well, it's not recent per say. As he mentioned before, you were always the favorite one.

Too pretty, too rich and too untouchable for him not to make you his favorite.

But it wasn't just that anymore.

When you agreed on being 'friends', San expected it to be tedious but was quick to find out that it wasn't like that. At all.

You really were nice to be around. Not much like he expected you to be but San was always too quick to make his own conclusions.

So he can't help but be curious.

It's not a curiosity in the 'I-want-to-marry-you-and-give-you-babies' way, he's not sure he ever felt like that about anyone. But he's simply curious about you in a way that he's curious about Yeosang and Yunho.

He wants to know what they're up to and what they're doing from time to time. San thinks that is okay to want to know about you as well. It's safe.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Jongho's voice interrupts his train of thought. San turns to the younger boy just in time to see the teasing smile as Jongho nudges him with his elbow, "Is it a girl?"

San smirks faintly in amusement.

He liked Jongho.

San only knows him from the repair shop since Jongho started college just this year. He was reliable and simple. Minded his business and wasn't obnoxious as his previous co-workers.

Despite being a year younger than San, Jongho was so different when it came to girls and dating.

Jongho wasn't shy but he was definitely reserved. The complete opposite of San, actually. He seemed like a true gentleman. A knight in shinning armor looking for the right person. Looking for his one true love.

San would find it cute if he already didn't know how fucking naive it was.

Love never lasts.

"Uh, you know that girl that came to visit me in the repair shop that one time."

"A lot of girls came to 'visit' you at the repair show, San, you're going to have to be specific." When Jongho puts quotation marks on the word 'visit', San lightly punches his arm with a snort.

"Y/N." San adds, "The one with those little skirts."

Once the realization sets in on Jongho's face, San can't help but laugh. "Yeah, you remember her, you motherfucker. You were drooling an hour after she left."

It's moments like these when San feels pride that he has you because he knows that Jongho never will.

"Well, she's a looker. You can't blame me." Jongho defends himself and San laughs at the way his ears burn red.

"No, I cannot." San agrees.

"So, Y/N. You into her or something?" Jongho continues, the wrapper of the ice cream sandwich crinkling in his hand.

"Nah," San chuckles with a head shake, "It's not like that."

"Oh." Jongho muses with furrowed brows before they jump up high on his forehead and his eyes go wide as he smacks San's side, "Oh."

"Ow. What?" San whines, rubbing the spot he just hit.

"I forgot to tell you but I was planning to!" Jongho is quick to throw himself into a story and San turns to him intrigued, always up for a good anecdote from the younger boy, "I saw her on the day I drove you to the bus station. Twice actually, like how crazy is that."

"I didn't recognize her at first because it's been awhile since I last saw her but she was coming out of your building in a fancy dress and shit and then after I drove you to the station, I went to work out and was passing by the park and she was there with these huge ass suitcases, just standing-"

San flinches.

"Wait, wait wait." Jongho quiets down at San's serious tone and San feels something ugly curl in his stomach. "When did you say you saw her coming out of my building?"

Jongho stares at him in confusion, "Uh, when I went to pick you up to give you a ride."

San's mouth suddenly feels dry, the calculations doing themselves in his head as he stares at the younger boy in silence.

"This building? You saw her come out of this building?" San asks, pointing to his building entrance and Jongho nods, seemingly lost and not understanding why it was a big deal. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Jongho nods and San wants the ground to swallow him whole.

"Are you a hundred percent sure it was this building and on that day?" He stresses and Jongho's eyes grow wide in confusion.

"Yes, it was this building. Your entrance." Jongho nods without a single doubt. "What's going on?"

And finally, the last piece of the puzzle clicks into place.

Why you ignored his text messages, why you slept with Yunho and why you were so fucking weird the last time you visited.

You heard. You fucking heard.

There's no way San was overthinking this.

He was in the fucking lounge with his bag prepared waiting for Jongho to pick him up when Yeosang and Yunho sat with him to hang out until it was time to go.

There's also no way San could forget that day because it was one of the biggest fights he had with Yeosang in awhile.

And since it was a fight, it was a given that they were loud. So loud that Yunho had to tell them to quiet down multiple times.

Holy fuck, you heard that.

You heard how San-...

He finally recognizes the ugly feeling festering in his stomach for what it really is. Guilt. It sinks to the bottom, heavy like a bag of rocks.

"Fuck." He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. "FuckFuckFuckFuck."

San thought about that fight with Yeosang for days when he was back home. He pondered over the words thrown around like they were nothing. He thought about the way he gave away something you told him in private. Something so personal and dark and he just gave it away because he can't control his fucking temper and lets words slip out when they're not supposed to just for the cause of him proving a point.

Now, San might not care all too much about you but he cares enough to know that this was a major fuck-up.

It would hurt anyone but it would hurt you a thousand times more because San and you have been through too much already.

“San, if you don’t mean that then don’t fucking say it.” Your bottom lip trembles, “I know I just fought with Wooyoung but I value my friendships more than anything so if you’re saying this because you feel bad then don’t say it.”

He opens his mouth but you’re quicker. “Because I’d rather have us be like this, like before,” When you would just fuck me and then insinuate that you want me to leave, you convince yourself that maybe that is just enough, “than be offered a friendship you don’t mean.”

San looks like he’s thinking for a long minute, “I do mean it.”

You face him with teary eyes and are met by his, now, gentle ones. “If I find out that you’re lying, then you’re as good as dead to me.”

"Fuck!" He jumps up from the spot on the stairs and pulls out his phone from his pocket, dialing your number and pressing 'Call'.

"San, what's going on-" Jongho's voice calls out as San moves to the entrance of the building.

"Uh, Jongho. I gotta go man, I'll talk to you later." He doesn't even pay mind to Jongho's goodbye.

The dial tone rings as San hurries past the small reception area. No response.

"Pick up the fuckin' phone, Y/N." He mutters dialing your number again only to be meet by the same response.

"San?" Yunho's voice calls from the decent arcade room they had set up in the building, Yeosang's head peeks out from behind him. "You good?"

The dial tone rings again and he's met with the same thing for the third time. No response.

He turns to respond to Yunho, "Uh, yeah-"

"Hey, San!" A guy carrying a parcel below his arm calls out from the entrance and San turns in confusion.

There's too much happening all at once and he's gripping his phone so hard it might break.

"What?" San calls out to the guy whose name he can't even remember.

"A guest!" The other guy waves him over, motioning to the taller guy standing next to him. "He's looking for you!"

"Wha-" San mutters confusedly, eyeing the taller guy as he starts walking in their direction back to the lobby.

San has never seen the guy in his life. Nobody comes to a fucking college dormitory dressed in a black suit and hair slicked back.

Did San fuck up his car in the repair shop or something?

As he nears closer, he greets the taller guy with a small, confused smile.

Once he's close enough, San can get a proper look at his face and he can't help but think he's seen the guy somewhere. Yup, definitely knows him.

His eyes, almond shaped with a familiar confident glint to them, too familiar but San just can't put his finger on it.

"Hey, man. What's up?" San nods at him in a proper greeting and the taller guy gives him an almost smirk. Once again, even the smirk is way too familiar.

Who the fuck was this guy?

"Hey." Taller guy nods back, pulling his hands out of the pockets of his expensive looking pants. "Are you Choi San?"

"That's me." San chuckles in response and it turns awkward when the guy doesn't move a muscle. Only seizes San up from head to toe.

"Hm." Taller guy muses out, "I expected you to be taller."

Okay, what the fuck.

San glances around, growing antsy by the second. Scratch that, he was antsy since you didn't respond to his first call, now he might be on the verge of a full blown panic attack,

"Uh, sorry, do I know you?" San's smile is still in tact but his brows are furrowed in confusion.

Taller guy just chuckles with a headshake. "No."

And then his fist is flying straight into San's fucking face and sending him toppling to the floor.

"What the fuck-" "San!" "Holy shit, somebody get him off-" "Dude, what the fuck-" "Get your hands off of me you-"

San really has no clue. It happened in a matter of seconds but all he knows is that he can taste blood from his bottom lip and his face hurts like a bitch.

After a long, hard second of catching his breath - he lets out a loud groan. "What the fuck!"

Yeosang and Yunho are crouched near San, trying to get him up on his feet while two of his dormmates are trying to hold down the other guy. Who San still doesn't have a single clue about.

"If you don't get your hands off of me in the next two seconds I'll have a lawsuit sent to your address by tomorrow." Taller guy hisses and his glare is actually threatening enough for Doyoung, a guy living in the apartment next to San's, to shrink into himself a little.

"What?!" Yunho snaps back at Taller Guy with a glare of his own, "Man, you can't come in here and assault someone and then threaten a lawsuit! What's wrong with you?!"

"Oh my God, San, are you okay?" Yeosang asks hurriedly and San hisses as a cold can is pressed to San's cheek.

"I'm fine." He grunts before turning back to Taller Guy who is still arguing with Yunho.

"Who the fuck are you?!" San exclaims loudly with a glare aimed at Taller Guy. "What's wrong with you, man!?"

"I'm-..." Taller Guy grunts until he's pushed off Doyoung and his roommate from himself. "I'm Y/N's older brother, you motherfucker!"

There's a way too long of a silence that stretches out.

"Shit." San croaks out, face hurting and nose probably broken. And, ah fuck, Y/N.

"Shit." Yeosang's face falls as he glances at San.

Seonghwa's eyes bounce left and right.

"Well...shit." Yunho sighs, throwing his hands up in the air and turning around to walk away.

San opens his mouth to say something. Anything. But nothing can exactly come out. He's not sure if it's because he just got the shit beaten out of him or if just knows there's no exact defense here.

Seonghwa seems absolutely bamboozled as he watches them and San can somewhat understand.

In front of Seonghwa, with his fancy suit and not a single hair out of place even after he broke San's nose, they really do all look pathetic. Ratty sweatpants and sneakers and San still on the floor and, well, bleeding.

Seonghwa sniffs in disdain before shaking his head, "Jesus Christ, she really knows how to pick 'em."

Yunho snorts somewhere behind San and if San's head wasn't hurting as much he'd turn around to glare at him.

"Look, man-" San starts with a sigh and Yeosang turns to him in warning.

"No, you look asshole." Seonghwa interrupts him taking a step towards them with a terrifying glare. "If I hear you're anywhere near my sister again, I'll break both of your fucking legs. Do you understand me? I have the money to get away with it."

San's blood boils beneath his skin at that as the utter humiliation sinks in and his hands clench into fists.

It's always about that, isn't it?

Money. Money. Money.

San doesn't have any so he's a fucking doormat to guys like this. Guys like your brother.

"Fuck you, man." San mutters underneath his breath with a glare, aware of everybody's eyes on them.

"San-" Yeosang hisses, gripping his biceps harder than needed.

"What the fuck did you just say-"

"I didn't do to your precious little sister nothing she didn't want me to." Here it goes again. That pride that tends to get him into deep shit all for the sake of proving a point.

"San, shut up." Yunho warns from behind him but San is too angry to care.

"Oh, she asked you to treat her like a piece of shit for two years?" Seonghwa asks angrily, grabbing San by the collar of his shirt as he crouches above him. "She asked you to air out her dirty laundry to your shitty little friends?"

Well, shit. Your brother knew more than he let on.

"Okay, how about we all just calm down-" Yeosang tries to diffuse the situation to his best ability. Your brother seems to not even want to fight all that much, all bark but no bite at this point. It's San that's the problem.

He is always the problem.

"She must've." San shrugs, smirking despite the ache in his face and the collar of his shirt tugging uncomfortably around his throat. "She was always coming back for more."

This time Yeosang is the first one to yell once your brother's fist connects with San's cheekbone.

San stares at the blank wall of the lounge room, holding a frozen bag of peas to his cheek.

It's been around half an hour since your brother left after the RA finally showed up with security in tow. And now, San is just sitting here blankly staring at the wall with Yeosang and Yunho sitting across from him.

Funnily enough, it's the exact same seating arrangement from the last time they were in this lounge and when you overheard what San said.

"San," Yeosang starts and San sighs immediately, "Are you okay?"

"It feels like I've been hit by a brick, Yeo, but I'm fine." Is San's response and he reaches out for his phone which Yeosang placed on the small coffee table having picked it off the floor of the lobby.

San's eyes start watering once he notices the cracks on the screen beyond repair. He curses internally.

Now, he's going to need money for a new phone. Money he doesn't fucking have.

"Maybe we should take you to the hospital-" It's Yunho.

"I'm fine." He says firmer this time, not looking at either of them. "Just fuckin' fine."

Since he doesn't have a phone, he can't call you.

What would he even say?

You know. You heard and you hate him.

Did you send his brother to beat San up? No, that isn't like you. Besides, San saw you a couple of days ago.

He had sex with you then for crying out loud. Why would you have sex with him if you knew what he said?

God, if your brother tells you what San said today...San shouldn't have said that. Fuck.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Yeosang tries again, "Do you want me to go the pharmacy for-"

"Oh my fucking God, I'm fine!" San snaps and Yeosang flinches a little at the loud tone of his voice. "My head and neck fucking hurt and I want to drink until I can't feel my face at all but I'll be fine so just fuckin' stop!"

"San." Yunho softly scolds him and when San turns to the side to Yeosang, he feels like the biggest asshole in the world.

Timid, sweet Yeosang who only tried to help and now, San has to take his anger out on him because he didn't have the balls or the strength to take it out on Seonghwa.

San hates himself. He really does. He doesn't deserve anyone.

"I'm sorry." San whispers before grabbing his broken phone and the bag of peas and hurriedly leaving the lounge and heading towards their shared apartment.

His head is pounding as he walks up another flight of stairs towards their apartment and he's about to enter when a new voice stops him.

"San!" It's a freshman living three doors down from him. San doesn't know the kid but Jesus Christ, he's heard his own name yelled out so many times today that he's sick of it.

"Yeah?" He mutters, slowly turning towards the kid and if he's curious about San's bruises he doesn't ask.

"You got a letter." The boy says with a timid grin, shoving a white envelope into San's hand.

"What is it today?" San mutters to himself, staring at the envelope in bewilderment before bidding the kid goodbye and entering his apartment.

"A fuckin' letter." He's talking to himself now as he drags himself down the hallway to his room. "If this is a fuckin' scholarship rejection, I'll lose it."

But it's not a rejection letter.

San opens the door to his bedroom and steps inside, flipping the envelope over. He stops in his place from the sheer surprise when he reads the name in the left corner.

Park Y/N

Closing the door shut, he leans on it and with shaky and bruised hands rips open the envelope and pulls out the thin white paper hiding inside.

His eyes skim over the first line and San lets out a shaky laugh, before sliding down the door and to the floor.

Dear San,

I hope you know how much I hate you.

#san x reader #ateez x reader #ateez angst #san angst

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