𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲 ☆ 𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧

╰⊱𝐹𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦, 𝟷𝟷:𝟸𝟶 𝑃𝑀⊰

1985

Rriiiiing! Rriiiiing!

The phone started to ring again, startling all three of them, but only Hongsang felt the dramatic need to scream in fear.

Yeosang covered his head with the duvet and Hongjoong placed the small pillow over his face. Both of them cuddled against each other until they realized it was actually the telephone in the room.

"Woah, I almost pissed my pants! Woah, my heart..." panted Yeosang, placing a hand on top of his chest.

"Who the hell calls at this hour?" Joong complained. "Are you alright, Sangie?" he inspected his face and caressed his cheek protectively.

The concern on his hyung's face made the blonde beauty blush.

"Y-Yes, I'm alright now." Yeosang giggled under his breath and placed his head on Joong's shoulder.

On the other side, San grumbled and got up from the couch, rolling his eyes at the boys' interaction. His eyes were tired and his eyelids heavy, which made him slide his glasses on top of his head.

He picked up the phone and massaged the bridge of his nose with eyes closed. "Hello?"

Once again, no one answered at first. But instead of silence, there was a weird noise in the background, it sounded like a broke TV.

"Who is this? Hello?"

"Who's that?" One of the boys asked.

"Guys, keep it down, I can't hear anything." San replied with his typical frown on. "Listen, if you don't speak right this instant, I'm going to hang up the phone!"

Yes, he was frustrated, but didn't mean to sound so harsh. Maybe he was just tired. Or maybe he was curious about who was keep dialing his number but wouldn't exchange a word.

"C-Can I talk to you for a second?"

San felt something strange in the other's voice. But the room got so noisy he couldn't put his finger on it.

"If you're still looking for your brother, he's not here. I really don't know any Yunho."

San figured it was the person from a few hours ago. Somehow, he managed to recognize the same soft voice.

"I know."

"Do I know you? Have we met by any chance at the Uni or..."

"No."

"Then..."

"Can I tell you something?"  the other voice whispered.

"What? Boys!" But it was pointless to take them out of their affectionate bubble, which meant San had to do something about it before getting angry and kicking their asses out.

"Hold on a sec."

He took the telephone with him in the kitchen because the long, almost endless cable permitted the luxury to talk and move around in that apartment, and closed the door behind him as much as the cable allowed. San set the phone on the counter and turned around, leaning the lower of his back against its round edge.