jung wooyoung is stuck in an unfinished action script with no way out-until he takes a wrong turn and meets choi san, a charming college student from a romance drama! what happens when a gritty vigilante and a romantic lead collide?
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wooyoung, a h...
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the gentle breeze from outside blew in through the open glass doors of wooyoung's balcony, disturbing the thick grey curtains ever so slightly. it danced through the room, carrying with it the faint scent of fresh air.
the soft rustling sound of the curtains was one of the few things that seemed to ease the oppressive weight san felt, his insides and outsides tangled in a confusing mess of emotions. it was a small comfort, a fleeting reminder that there was still something calming and normal outside of the turmoil he was experiencing.
san sat criss-cross on the living room floor, positioned perfectly in the light that filtered through the numerous streetlights and lamps that cast their soft, golden glow into the room. all the lights in wooyoung's little apartment had been turned off, an odd choice san hadn't questioned.
the dimness added a layer of melancholy to the scene, enhancing the already heavy atmosphere and making him feel all the more desolate. it was as if the apartment itself was mirroring his internal state—quiet, subdued, and enveloped in shadows.
his protective cap was now off his head, lying discarded on his lap, revealing a mess of disheveled hair that looked like it had been through a tornado. the skin of his face had taken on a pallid hue from hours of relentless crying, and his eyes were red and puffy.
wooyoung appeared into the space, and he placed a tissue box gently in front of san. then, he sat down on the ground across from san, the seriousness in his posture accentuating the gravity of the conversation he was about to initiate.
"you didn't have to do this," san chuckled softly, though the sound was weak and hollow, betraying the weariness in his voice after all the crying. he fidgeted with the tissue box, his fingers tracing its edges absentmindedly as he spoke. "i feel better now."
"for now, you do," wooyoung commented, his tone lacking the lightness that san had attempted to inject into the moment.
his gaze was fixed on san with a seriousness that made it clear this wasn't just a passing concern. the urgency in wooyoung's eyes was palpable, making san feel the weight of what was to come. it wasn't the kind of seriousness that could be brushed aside with a laugh or a simple reassurance.
"san, we need to talk," wooyoung continued, his voice steady and resolute. "seriously."
san, who had grown accustomed to anticipating the worst when it came to this elusive man in front of him, felt a lump form in his throat.
the potential implications of wooyoung's words made him swallow nervously, his heart racing as he tried to brace himself for what was to come.
"what do you mean? are you—are you breaking up with me?" san's voice trembled slightly, his worst fears crystallising into the worst possible scenario.
"no, no," wooyoung cut in quickly, his voice firm but reassuring, as if he sensed san's immediate panic.
san would have sighed in relief if not for the realisation that wooyoung still had something significant to discuss—something that, while not a breakup, might be equally daunting.
