{3 - The Gentle Push}

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San was back in his routine, running the same route through the neighborhood each morning. He liked the rhythm of it—the familiar streets, the silence before the rest of the world woke up. It gave him time to think, or rather, to not think. Just run, breathe, and forget. But no matter how many miles he logged, he couldn't seem to shake one persistent thought.

Jung Wooyoung.

He wasn't trying to focus on him, but every time San passed by the cozy house with the messy garden, his mind flickered back to their last conversation at the café. There was something about Wooyoung's easy energy, his persistence without pressure, that lingered in San's mind, even though he didn't want it to.

On his run that morning, San spotted Wooyoung again—this time walking toward the café, hands in his pockets, looking casual and put together. Before San could veer off, Wooyoung spotted him and waved with a smile that seemed far too bright for this early in the morning.

"Hey, speedy!" Wooyoung called, grinning as San slowed to a stop near the sidewalk. "Getting those miles in, huh?"

"Yeah," San replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, trying to keep the conversation short. "Just... clearing my head."

Wooyoung tilted his head, his eyes glinting with a playful spark. "Running from something, or running toward something?"

San hesitated, unsure how to answer. "Both, I guess."

Wooyoung chuckled, stepping closer. "Deep answer for this early in the morning. How about you let me slow you down with some coffee? My treat."

San glanced at the café behind Wooyoung. It was early enough that it wouldn't be crowded. He could always decline, say he needed to get home, keep things simple. But something in Wooyoung's expression, that hint of mischief in his eyes, made San pause. He felt the familiar walls rising inside him, but they weren't as sturdy as they used to be.

"Fine," San said, surprising himself as the word slipped out. "But I'm paying next time."

Wooyoung grinned. "I'll hold you to that."

Inside, the café was quiet, with just a few early risers scattered around. They found a table near the window, the same one San always gravitated toward when he worked there. Wooyoung slid into the seat across from him, setting their coffee down.

"So," Wooyoung began, leaning back in his chair with a casual confidence that San could never quite pull off, "you always up this early, or is it just when you're avoiding me?"

San blinked, caught off guard by the playful tone. "What?"

Wooyoung laughed, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Kidding, man. You've got that 'serious runner' vibe. But, just so you know, I'm pretty hard to avoid. I've got a knack for showing up at the right time, in the right places."

San stared at him, unsure how to respond. There was something disarming about Wooyoung's teasing, the way it felt light but intentional, like he was testing the waters. San shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his mind warring with itself. He liked the banter—more than he wanted to admit. But liking it meant letting his guard down, and that terrified him.

Wooyoung took a sip of his coffee, watching San carefully. "So, any big plans for the weekend? Or just more running away from your problems?"

San narrowed his eyes, unsure if Wooyoung was joking or if there was something more behind the question. "Why do you care?"

Wooyoung shrugged, his lips curling into a small smile. "I like knowing what makes people tick. And you, my friend, are one giant puzzle."

San snorted, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, well... some puzzles aren't meant to be solved."

Wooyoung leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady. "Maybe. But I'm pretty good at puzzles."

There it was again—that gentle push, the playful tone that didn't quite hide the fact that Wooyoung was interested in more than just casual conversation. It wasn't overwhelming, and it wasn't demanding, but it was there, a steady pressure against the walls San had worked so hard to build.

San felt the familiar instinct to pull back, to keep things surface-level, but there was something about Wooyoung's approach that made it hard to walk away. He wasn't used to people like this—people who could joke and flirt without pushing too hard, who made you feel seen without asking for anything in return.

"I'm not that interesting," San muttered, looking down at his coffee, hoping to deflect.

"See, that's where you're wrong," Wooyoung replied, his voice soft but teasing. "You're the most interesting person in this café, and I say that having just met a woman who only drinks tea made from lavender flowers she grows in her backyard. So, yeah. You're winning."

San smirked despite himself, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous."

"I get that a lot," Wooyoung said, grinning. "But seriously, I like spending time with you, even if you're determined to make it difficult."

San felt a knot form in his stomach. This was the part he hated—the part where someone wanted more from him than he could give. He hadn't asked for Wooyoung's attention, hadn't asked for his interest. He wasn't ready for this.

But as he looked up and saw the warmth in Wooyoung's eyes, the way his teasing smile softened into something genuine, San felt the war inside him intensify. He wanted to push Wooyoung away, to protect himself from whatever this was. But at the same time, he didn't want to lose it.

"You don't even know me," San said quietly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the café.

Wooyoung's smile faded slightly, but the warmth in his expression didn't waver. "Maybe not. But I want to."

The words hung in the air, heavier than anything else they'd said. San swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. This was the moment where he could shut it down, where he could build the walls back up and go back to being alone.

But he didn't want to.

San realized he wanted to be seen. Not just for what he'd been through, but for who he still was underneath all the hurt. Who he wanted to reclaim. Wooyoung? He was offering that without even asking for it in return.

San took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."

Wooyoung grinned, the tension easing slightly. "I've been called worse."

They sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of the conversation hanging between them. San felt the war inside him quiet just a little, the walls lowering ever so slightly. He didn't know what this was, or where it was going, but for now, he wasn't going to push Wooyoung away.

Not yet.

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