Rocky || Choi San

3

🍸

"I can't do anything right!" 

"Oh god, please don't cry." San tries his best to tell you in the most soothing way, afraid of making you panic even more.

The journey in bringing you home tonight was quite rocky compared to the last time he volunteered to drive you.

It seemed like the alcohol finally hit your system real hard because as soon as he rolled up the windows, turned the aircon on, and roared his car to life — you felt heavy-headed, nauseous and you even thought the world was spinning for a split-second . However, you kept quiet about it.

You only told San about it when you caught sight of a convenience store, making him stop the vehicle to get you some meds, water and candy to chew on.

But as soon as San came back — there you were.

When he opened the car door, the latter was met with the sight of you crying, fisted hands on your lap while the shotgun seat was a mess.

You just vomited. 

"I swear, Elle, it's fine, you're fine, sweetheart. I'm not mad, okay?" San reassures you as he cradles your face with one hand and the other caressing your mess of a hair.

"Y-You're not?" You asked, doe-eyes glossed with tears, looking up at the male. Lips quivering, because you know how expensive-looking San's car was and you just happened to have messed up one of the leather car seats.

"I told you I'm not, didn't I?"

You nod your head.

San gently smiles and the next thing he does, surprises you. He boops your nose and hands you a black handkerchief.

"As much as you look cute when crying, I don't want to see you in tears again when you're with me, is that clear?" 

"San I-"

"Here, take these. I'm pretty sure these could lessen the dizziness up until we reach your house. Drink these while I go clean up the car, alright? And then, I'll take you home. How does that sound?" San asks, eyes meeting yours in the softest gaze that your heart starts doing flips inside your chest. 

You look away, muttering a small yes, and San leaves you to it. But not before ruffling your hair and fixing his jacket that stayed and kept you warm on your shoulder.

Seonghwa does that to you each time you meet them and it always radiates brotherly affection in your end.

But with San, why does it feel like you're on cloud nine? 

You reckon your heart just did a somersault all the while another wave of heat rushes to paint your cheeks red.

🍸

The dreaded day of the final examinations came and everyone's walking in like a zombie towards the school grounds and into their respective classrooms. 

Including you.

Your eyebags were visible and heavy. You know this because that's the first thing you saw in the mirror when you woke up.

Also not having much time to groom yourself, only having 20 minutes left on the clock, all you could do was sport a messy bun and throw in some worn-out jeans and a simple t-shirt.

Breakfast wasn't an option either. Your mom wasn't home, again. Your father, well, passed out on the living room couch with his favorite sports channel still playing on the television and oh, he reeked of alcohol.

You could've cooked for yourself but, you didn't think you could still stomach some food in a fallen-apart house you can't even call home.

Yes. Your life is a mess. At the age of 15, home didn't exist. Family wasn't a word you were fond of and love was nothing but lies to you.

Your parents fought every single night. Beer bottles crashed on the floor, furniture got flipped upside-down and their screams and shouts became your lullaby when you tried to hold yourself on the comfort of your bed, all the while tears ran down and wetted your cheeks.

Then you wake up, it's suddenly a new day. The sun is up and your tears have dried. Worst case is, you'll come downstairs and see your parents acting like nothing happened. Then you pack up your bags and go to school.

The cycle repeats.

"Last ten minutes.." The professor announces in a monotone as he circled the room, carefully keeping an eye on possible cheat-sheets being passed on his watch.

With one last scan at your answers, you stood up, fixed your bag and trudged towards the professor's desk at the center of the room.

You put down your test sheet neatly and securely on top of the others and with a sigh, you exit the room.

You're done.

It's done.

You're free from the bittersweet days of college. Well, except the graduation part. Still, you're finally, freaking, free.

Other students will take this opportunity to celebrate with their friends. But friends? You don't have that. And happiness and enjoyment? It seemed like your life was devoid of it as well.

Your only option was to go home. Gosh, saying that word was like getting your thumb pricked with rose thorns.

However, as soon as you step outside the classroom, where the warm sunlight greets you, your eyes focus on the evergreen tree just up ahead — the one that stood tall and sturdy by the concrete pavement. Yes, that.

Is that who I think it is? You question yourself as you take small, unsure steps to get a clearer vision on the figure clad in black, leaning by the tree's trunk.

But when he raises his head away from his phone, the same cat-like eyes staring back at your puzzled ones, a gasp escapes from your mouth.

It's really Choi San. It's really him waving at you cooly as he grinned at your reaction upon seeing him inside your campus.

But isn't he hot? 

You mentally facepalmed because he is hot. However, that's not what you meant, because under the scorching heat of the sun, that not even the shade of the tree can hide him away from, was him in a black shirt, his signature black leather jacket and black ripped jeans.

He looked like he just came from a funeral. And his hair, oh his hair — it's black too!

"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me again, pretty face?"

Shouting that familiar line, you felt your cheeks heating up once again.

And just like before, you squeak out a quick apology and run towards the smirking male.