Forced to be together for the sake of the public eye, Jung Wooyoung and Choi San have been wrapped up in a scheme to bring their parent's million dollar companies together. Wooyoung hates San, and San hates Wooyoung. The arranged relationship was on...
Being alone was never an easy feat. Wooyoung struggled to last in the quiet of isolation, surrounded by a swirl of his own thoughts that seemed rather catastrophic more than anything else. Dealing with the empty abyss that came with being alone was a war in itself, trying to keep yourself sane while also trying not to suffer in silence, yet submerging yourself into that world of quiet seemed to be the only thing to keep one's mind intact.
That's all Wooyoung could do. He could sit idly by, settled in a bed that wasn't his own, staring out of a rain-streaked window, watching as the night faded into a quiet morning, painting the sky in an array of deep reds and pinks, hinting towards another day full of eventful storms.
Wooyoung hadn't slept, or, at least, had refused to, but had been laying with his eyes nearly glued open for the last four hours. His mind felt like a terrible nightmare that he couldn't wake from, stuck in the confines of a reality he no longer wished to be privy to. He was terrified, truly, clueless about where to even go from here.
He had said that he wanted to fix everything he had broken before, but now that he had made amends with Beomgyu and sidetracked to fix whatever strained resentment lay with Yeonjun, now he wasn't completely sure if he'd be able to tackle his family alone. Part of him knew deep down that he shouldn't have abandoned everything he needed. San was his source of strength and his protector, a place to tether to when his storms were incredibly dark and abundant. But now, he sat watching as the previous downpour passes, and yet, Wooyoung had never felt more in the dark than he was now. Clear skies were not hung overhead, clouds passing over in a fake array of colors that seemed to promise a better day, and yet, the colors that rest in view relay a warning of incoming storms and a dark day, one that Wooyoung had long since seen coming.
The darkness had been the only thing Wooyoung had felt attuned with, an odd comfort that he somehow lingered within, wondering if there was truly any way out of everything he had felt and everything he had come to face with. His memories lay as a battlefield, one that was raging with spills of blood and merciless battles, clashing realities fighting against one another in a current that he couldn't outswim.
He wants to feel something other than this, a known bout of disdain and merciless regret, wondering if his heart would ever give out from the ache of sadness alone. His chest was heavy, burdened with the knowledge that he had messed up royally, but he no longer had the strength to cry. All of his tears had long since been shed, leaving his heart heavier for wear, tangled together in a mess of stitches and ties; barely beating, barely alive.
