Disdain of Carnations | SanSang

Chapter 11: My Way

Yunho eyed Choi San with an unrelenting gaze, his eyes nearly gawking at the other as they bulged with such intensity as he awaited the younger's response. He could taste the bitterness that formed at the tip of his tongue and soon spread further down his mouth and towards the back of his throat. He loathed the sensation, yet it was something that had become the norm.

He felt the corner of his lips twitch into a smile, rather lopsided and forced. It irked him, but it came off naturally to him to display. "Make a choice, San... my life or his." Yunho's eyes were beginning to burn from the freezing gust of wind that came by every so often, the coldness of the ice and the snow that came excitedly with the wind.

San was trapped in place, his eyes lingering on Yunho—his boss, his friend he's known for a long time—and also Yeonghan, who's actually Prince Yeosang. Although he felt deceived, San didn't deny the burning desire his heart felt for the other. His soul was thoroughly enthralled towards Yeosang, just feeling an increase in oxytocin; there was always this jittery sentiment that would nestle within the empty pit of his stomach when he spent time with the other.

He glanced at the nerve-wracked prince, seeing him breathe heavily as the temperature diminished even more. San then looked at Yunho once more, whose eyes looked like they were about to burst from how wide they were. Biting his lip, San looked away, took a deep breath, and he saw them both through the corner of his eye, "Yunho... I'm sorry, but... I-I have to go with Yeosang."

A scornful laugh rolled off the tip of Yunho's tongue, and that spiteful sound grew in volume. It was obnoxious, toxic—felt like the dripping poison that spilled off a vile. His eye twitched, and as on cue, the laughter ceased. Yumho's gaze was dark, bearing no expression as he eyed San. "So this is it then?" He said, casting Yeosang aside as he walked towards San. "You choose someone you haven't known for long over someone you knew for years?" He stood in front of the younger one.

San bit down on his lip, but he stood his ground firmly, holding his weapon in hand. "Yes, Yunho. And if anything, I suggest you admit defeat—you're already dying away the more you move—."

"—I don't care." Yunho spoke, his voice becoming deep as he lost his breath with the cold as well as the wound that sunk deeper. "You chose him, then there's no need for me to keep on going." He staggered past San, sluggishly . pushing past him and venturing towards the branches. His eyelids rested halfway, slowly closing yet opening - trying to stay awake.

San glanced away, and he walked towards Yeosang, seeing the way he cowered away with fright. He dropped his dagger, raising his arms, "Wait," San pleaded, "I-I don't want to kill you."

"Y-You don't?" Yeosang stopped in place, his breath getting trapped in his throat. He couldn't believe his ears, yet he felt on edge. So on edge. Nothing felt right; he felt so open.

"I... too loved the way I was with you-." San choked up on his words, losing all sense in his legs as he felt something plunge deep in his lower back, abdominal area. His hands immediately fell to his stomach, inching it towards his back. His breath became sturdy, becoming quicker as he retracted his hand and noticed the red that coated his skin.

"Shouldn't have turned your back on me," he heard Yunho breathe against his neck, and he gasped, hurling forward as he felt Yunho push in his own dagger deeper into his body. San felt himself collapse face-first, hearing the sound of receding, running footsteps going away. His focus was hazy, and he watched as Yeosang rushed over to him with panic.

He smiled lazily, "I'll be okay."

Yeosang grit his teeth, and he got rid of his long-sleeved clothing, wrapping it tightly around the wound - gently lifting San to get the clothing back around to make the knot. "I... I'm taking you to the village!"

San blinked. "What?"

"You heard me," Yeosang's jaw clenched, "because I'm not letting you die. I'm not going to do this your way-."

"—And what do you think my way is?"

"Leaving you to die."

"... Anyway."

"We're doing this my way," Yeosang carefully turned San onto his back, and he squatted in front of the younger. "So, hop on my back."

"If I—," San coughed, finding it a bit harder to breathe as the cold passed through the fabric of the cloth, "—hop on, I'll die."

"I didn't mean it literally!" Yeosang snapped, giving him a dirty look - his lips pinched into a straight, thin line.

San felt terrible; he complied, getting into Yeosang's back. He wrapped his arms around his neck, his legs at Yeosang's torso. He gulped, feeling Yeosang stagger as the other got up. San didn't realize how fit Yeosang was, for he honestly expected the other to stumble and almost fall every so often. It was the opposite.

Yeosang pushed through the branches, getting whacked with every shove. Leaves began to bury themselves into his hair, pieces of snow pecked at his skin and landed on San as he had his face buried against Yeosang's neck.

"I-I can see the village!" Yeosang said, feeling his eyes begin to swell with tears. "We-We're so close-!" He cried out, exerting more of his energy to keep on moving. He didn't know how much he had walked and ran already. His arms were killing him as he carried San in that position; his calves were burning from all the excess movement he was not accustomed to; his feet were aching.

He shouldn't have overdone it.

He should've gone to the shack, even if it cost his life. After all, even if San felt this way about him, there was no say in how Mingi, Seonghwa, and Jongho felt about his life if they knew.

"W-We're almost there." The prince's voice became quieter, his legs beginning to stumble. "A-Almost-." He choked out, the top of his foot getting caught against a fallen branch. He flew forward, landing on his stomach, and the tears spilled out.

San landed slightly on top of Yeosang, grunting with agony as he felt the impact affect his wound. He groaned, pushing himself back up, "Yeo... it's okay-." He tensed, hearing voices.

"San??! Yeonghan?!"

Relieved, San breathed in with all his remaining energy, and he breathed out, "Over here!!!"

Yeosang slowly sat back up, hearing the snow being shuffled at a distance. He wiped his eyes, hearing the shouts of Mingi, Jongho, and Seonghwa. It didn't take long before they were found. He soon saw the other three in front of them, panting. Naturally, he watched them gather round San to check the wound and apply something for pressure.

He felt cast aside.

He should leave, Yeosang figured.

When Yeosang began to get up, San grabbed his wrist, "Stay..."

"But I-."

"But nothing."

Seonghwa sighed, "Yeosang, we don't-."

"Wait, you know-?" Yeosang's eyes widened.

"Oh yeah, we have been for a while now. We realized you fit the prince's description, but we liked you—so we kept you." He smiled.

Mingi chuckled, "Seonghwa realized it first before Jongho and I." He kept close to Seonghwa, helping him pick up San. "Now, mind taking us into your village, Your Highness?"

"Oh, stop," Yeosang rolled his eyes, "just call me Yeosang."

"Yeah," Jongho piped in.

Mingi snickered, but he helped Seonghwa carry San. They rushed to the village.

Yeosang ignored Wooyoung's shouts as they entered the gate in a hurry. He knew where to go: to Hongjoong.