flutedrum | woosan ✓

34

The following days dragged on for Wooyoung. Every second felt like an eternity, the weight of San's confession still pressing down on his chest. He couldn't stop thinking about the look in San's eyes when he told him the truth, how it shattered everything Wooyoung thought he knew.

The others didn't press him, which he was grateful for, but the silence in the house became suffocating. Wooyoung needed to face San, but the thought of it made his heart pound so loudly he could barely hear his own thoughts. He was trapped between fear and longing—the fear of what might come, and the desperate longing to see San, to be with him again.

It was early evening when Wooyoung finally made his decision. The sky was a dull orange, the sun already sinking behind the city's skyline. He took a deep breath, his hands trembling as he reached for his phone. The screen glowed in his face, and he hesitated, thumb hovering over San's contact.

What would he even say? How could he face San after everything?

"Just call him," Jongho's voice rang in his head. "Talk to him."

Without thinking, Wooyoung pressed the call button. His breath caught in his throat as the phone rang. Once, twice...then silence. He panicked for a moment, thinking San wouldn't pick up. But just as he was about to hang up, the call connected.

"Wooyoung?"

San's voice was soft, hesitant. Wooyoung could hear the tension in it, the uncertainty. For a moment, he couldn't find his voice. It was like every word he wanted to say had vanished.

"San...hey," he finally managed to say, his voice barely a whisper.

"Hey," San replied, his voice equally quiet. The air between them felt heavy, like there was so much left unsaid. "Are you okay?"

Wooyoung swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I don't know. I don't know if I'm okay."

There was a pause. Wooyoung could hear San's breath on the other end of the line, could almost imagine him sitting in his room, probably pacing back and forth like he always did when he was anxious.

"I'm sorry," San said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. "I didn't want you to find out that way. I...I thought I was protecting you."

"Protecting me?" Wooyoung repeated, his voice filled with disbelief. "By tearing everything we built apart? By sabotaging the company?" His words came out harsher than he intended, but he couldn't help it. The pain, the betrayal—it all came rushing back.

"I know it sounds messed up," San said quickly, his voice tinged with desperation. "But you don't understand what it was like. That company—Wooyoung, it was toxic. They were going to destroy us, piece by piece. I had to do something."

Wooyoung closed his eyes, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him. "But why didn't you tell me, San? Why did you keep me in the dark?"

"I didn't want you to get hurt," San whispered. "I thought...I thought if I could just fix things, we could all walk away free, together."

Wooyoung's heart ached at San's words. He knew San had always been protective, always looking out for him. But this...this was different.

"I'm hurt anyway," Wooyoung said, his voice cracking. "You lied to me, San. You kept this huge secret from me, and now everything's falling apart."

"I know," San murmured, his voice small. "And I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me."

The silence that followed was thick, heavy with everything unsaid between them. Wooyoung's emotions churned inside him, a mess of love, hurt, and confusion. He missed San—missed him so much it hurt. But the betrayal still hung in the air, and he didn't know how to bridge the gap between them.

"I don't know if I can forgive you," Wooyoung said finally, his voice shaking. "Not right now. I need time."

San was quiet for a long moment before he replied, "I understand. Take all the time you need."

Wooyoung nodded, though San couldn't see him. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Yeah," San said softly. "Whenever you're ready."

The call ended, and Wooyoung was left staring at his phone, his heart still pounding in his chest. He didn't know where to go from here, didn't know how to process everything that had happened. All he knew was that he needed space, time to figure things out.

As Wooyoung sank back onto the couch, his thoughts swirled around him, but one thing was clear—nothing between him and San would ever be the same again.

or wouldn't it?