WOOSAN -Real

86

San's pov:

He has been avoiding me for the last two days.

After waking up next to me and staring at me in confusion the day after our last attempt of 'talking', he hurriedly scrambled out of the bed before walking to the door and demanding me to open it.

I didn't have a reason to say no so I did. And he never came back.

Won't even acknowledge me enough to take the electric blue toothbrush he left behind.

Hongjoong's pov:

Try as I might, I can never catch him alone. He's always sandwiched between Yunho and Mingi and deliberately avoiding my eyes. I don't want to imagine why.

He can't know. Can he?

It was just a damn hickey Yunho saw. That doesn't prove anything.

San's pov:

An entire week. He isn't openly cold towards me in front of the others. It's more of him just plainly ignoring my presence. 

Whenever I catch him alone however things are different. The corners of his mouth turn downwards as he refuses to acknowledge my existence. His brows furrow and I can see his jaw clench as he desperately tries to ignore me.

Like yesterday. 

I talked to him. I apologized. I begged him to come back.

But all he would do is ignore me. And toss me aside like a stray piece of crumpled paper that refuses to stay put in the bin.

Part of me knows why he's doing this. He doesn't want to share anymore; doesn't want me to know anymore of his past.

But it still hurts.

Wooyoung's pov:

I've lost track of days. I greeted everyone at breakfast except Yeo and San.

Yeo because of obvious reasons and San..I don't know.

What do you mean you don't know?

Yeah. What do I mean by I don't know? I do

I glance at my clock before dragging myself out of bed.  

11:44;Time to get myself a can of strawberry milk.

My makeshift schedules are what keeps me going these days. I even have a specific time to shave. Everyday. Which is frustrating 'cause most of the time I end up running the raw blade against my perfectly smooth skin.

I already have a handful of cuts around there. Or should I say, a chin-full

I mess my hair a bit before heading downstairs towards our cafeteria. I can't help looking back over my shoulder every now and then. For San? Pft of course not.

Yes.

Part of me wants him to come up to me and rattle me by the shoulders until I spill the truth. And then there's this part of me that wants run away from everything. From my past, my emotions.

From San.

I buy two bottles of milk and hum a nonexistent tune as I turn the corner back to the stairs. The eyes that meet mine at the bottom step of them causes a loud internal debate among them.

Jeez not him 

I pretend not to notice him as I swerve away from his outstretched arm, ignoring his questioning "Wooyoung?".