Why me? >Woosan<

8.

Wooyoung's POV

The next few weeks were a blur.

San and I messaged every day, quick texts between his rehearsals, calls late at night when he could sneak away, but it wasn't the same. I missed being near him. Missed the warmth of his laugh in person, the way he looked at me like I was the only one in the room.

When we finally managed to see each other again, two weeks had passed. We met at the little coffee shop I always went to with my mom. It felt safe there, tucked into a corner far from the windows.

We ordered coffees, and San started talking about the tour. His whole face lit up, his hands moving as he described the shows, the outfits, the new choreography. I couldn't stop smiling, just watching him. His excitement was contagious, and those dimples, God. I already knew I was going to miss him more than I wanted to admit.

I sat facing the entrance, and when the door opened I noticed a group of high school girls walking in. They were laughing, loud, until one of them glanced our way. She whispered something to her friend, who immediately looked too. My stomach dropped.

"San," I said, leaning forward, "maybe we should go."

"Why? I like it here."

"There's a group of girls," I whispered. "I think they recognize you."

He shrugged, too calm. "Then we just tell them they're mistaken."

"Please, San." I cut him off, my voice sharper than I meant. "I don't want you to get in trouble."

He looked at me for a moment, then sighed. "Okay. Is there a back way out?"

"The emergency door."

"Perfect." He stood, grabbing my hand. "Come on."

We slipped out the back, laughing breathlessly as we ended up in a narrow alley. The sound of the café and the girls faded, leaving us in quiet shadows. My back pressed against the wall, our hands still laced together.

"What now?" I asked, though my voice was barely steady.

When I looked up at him, he was closer than I realized. Too close. Heat radiated from his body, sinking into my skin. If I leaned in just a little,

I want to kiss him. The thought pulsed loud in my head, over and over, drowning out everything else. God, I want to kiss him so badly.

My eyes fluttered shut. "San." His name slipped out, fragile and breathless.

His thumb skimmed over my bottom lip, light as a tease, and the touch sent a shiver racing through me.

"San," I whispered again, this time almost pleading.

And then his mouth found mine.

The kiss started gentle, tentative, like he was afraid I might pull away. But I didn't want gentle, not now. I needed him close, needed proof that he was burning just as much as I was.

My fists knotted in his shirt, dragging him closer. He groaned softly, deep in his chest, and his arms tightened around my waist. The kiss shifted, hungrier, desperate, his hand sliding to the back of my head, tilting it as his tongue traced the edge of my lip before slipping inside.

I followed every movement, letting him lead, my whole body trembling with heat.

This was nothing like I'd imagined. It was more.

When we finally pulled apart, I was breathless, my legs weak, my cheeks burning. I searched his eyes and found the same mix of satisfaction and raw want that thundered inside me.

"Was that what you wanted?" San's voice was low, rough, his breath still warm against my mouth.

"Yes," I whispered, pulse racing, as he cupped my cheek and leaned in again.

San's POV

When we slipped out the back, the alley was empty. Quiet. Just the hum of the city in the distance.

I turned, and he was there, so close I could feel the warmth of him. His hand was still tangled in mine, his back against the wall.

He looked up at me, eyes wide, lips parted, and something in my chest twisted. The way he was staring at me, like he wanted something, like he was waiting.

Then he closed his eyes, whispered my name. Soft. Shaky. "San."

My heart kicked hard. I lifted my hand before I could think, brushing my thumb across his lower lip. Testing. Waiting for him to flinch.

But he didn't. He shivered instead.

"San," he breathed again, almost begging.

That was all it took.

I leaned in, closing the distance, pressing my lips to his. Gentle at first, careful. Afraid that if I went too fast, he'd pull away. But then he gripped my shirt in both fists, dragging me closer, and the sound that tore from my chest surprised even me.

My arms wrapped tight around his waist, holding him as the kiss deepened, hungrier, hotter. His surrender only pulled me further in. My hand slid up, cupping the back of his head, tilting him to fit against me just right.

It wasn't how I'd pictured it, not some perfect, planned first kiss. This was messy. Breathless. Desperate.

But it was real. And it was ours.

When I finally pulled back, his lips were red, his cheeks flushed. I couldn't stop staring at him. Couldn't stop wanting him.

"Was that what you wanted?" I whispered, voice rough.

The way he looked at me when he whispered "Yes" back, I knew I was already lost.

Later, as we walked down the street, our arms brushed now and then, our hands almost touching. I wanted to take his again, but there were too many people around. Instead, I stole glances at him, his cheeks pink, his smile soft.

"We kissed," he said suddenly, laughing under his breath.

"Cute," I murmured. His ears went red, but he didn't deny it.

I walked him home, every step wishing I could keep him with me. We stopped at the bottom of his steps, and he looked down, scuffing his shoe against the pavement.

"Talk to you later?" he asked, sounding almost disappointed.

"Yeah. Later." I squeezed his hand gently. "I'll call you tonight."

He nodded.

I should've left then, but my feet didn't move. Instead, I jogged up the steps, cupped his face, and kissed him quickly. "See you soon," I whispered, before forcing myself to go.

"Where have you been?" Yunho asked when I walked into practice.

"Out."

"San, you've been sneaking off a lot lately." His voice was careful, worried.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. Guilt pressed heavy in my chest. "It's nothing to worry about."

He studied me for a long moment before patting my shoulder. "Whatever it is, just... be careful."

I nodded, avoiding his eyes.

In the changing room, I sank onto the bench with a sigh. My chest felt heavy. I hated lying to them, my brothers, my family. But I wasn't ready to tell them. Not yet.

All I could think about was him. His lips. His laugh. The way his fingers fit between mine.

We had kissed.

And I was so completely, helplessly in love with him.

Two weeks. That's all we had before I'd be leaving.

Would Wooyoung wait for me?

Why does love have to be so complicated?