falling into you || woosan

~65~

JONGHO'S POV

It's been a couple of weeks since our conversation—since we decided we'd finally tell our parents about us. And now, the night is here, and I can feel every second ticking by as we get ready. The anxiety I've been trying to bury is now clawing its way to the surface, making my hands tremble as I button up my shirt.

I fidget with the collar, trying to convince myself that it's not choking me. It's a nice shirt, dark blue, with a subtle pattern that Yeosang said looks good on me. But it feels too tight, too formal, too much for what we're about to do. I glance over at Yeosang, who's adjusting his tie in the mirror, looking composed as ever.

"You look perfect," he says, catching my gaze in the reflection. There's a softness in his eyes, a silent encouragement that almost makes me feel better. Almost.

"Do I?" I mutter, running a hand through my hair for what feels like the millionth time. "Because I feel like I'm about to puke."

Yeosang chuckles, stepping closer to fix the crooked tie I didn't even realize I was messing up. His hands are gentle, and for a moment, I focus on the warmth of his touch instead of the gnawing anxiety in my stomach.

"You'll be fine," he reassures, though I can hear the slight tremor in his voice. "We'll be fine. We've talked about this, remember?"

"I know, but talking about it and actually doing it are two different things." I pull back slightly, meeting his gaze. "I'm only doing this for you, Yeosang."

"I know," he whispers, and there's a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt, maybe. "But you know it's the right thing to do."

"Yeah, I know," I sigh, my shoulders slumping. "It's just... I'm not ready. What if they don't take it well?"

Yeosang's expression softens, and he takes my hands in his, squeezing them gently. "Then we'll deal with it together. But hiding isn't the answer anymore, Jongho. I don't want to keep this a secret, not from them."

I nod, though my heart is pounding in my chest. "I'm just... I'm scared."

He smiles, a small, reassuring curve of his lips. "So am I. But at least we're scared together, right?"

I let out a shaky breath, trying to draw strength from his words, from his presence. "Together," I echo, and it sounds a little more convincing this time.

We finish getting ready in silence, both of us lost in our thoughts. I'm grateful for the quiet, for the few moments of calm before we step into the unknown. When we're finally dressed, I take one last look in the mirror. We look good—polished but not too formal. Just two guys about to have dinner with their parents.

As we head out of the room, we pass by the living room where Hongjoong is lounging on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as we walk by, eyes narrowing in curiosity.

"Where are you guys headed?" he asks.

"Dinner with our parents," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady.

He nods, offering a small smile. "Be safe, you two."

"Thanks," I mumble, and with that, we head for the door.

Yeosang doesn't reach for my hand, and I'm thankful for that. The thought of anyone seeing us now makes my chest tighten. We walk out together, side by side, but with a distance that feels both too wide and too necessary. The night air is cool, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as we make our way to the car.

The drive to the restaurant feels like it stretches on forever, even though it's only a short distance. I'm gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are white, my thoughts spiraling with every mile. Yeosang is quiet beside me, the tension between us almost suffocating.