Yeosang's heart dropped. His breath hitched, and his body felt like it had been struck by something heavy. He stood frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from the scene playing out in front of him.
He'd known—of course, he'd known San was popular with girls. He'd seen it himself, the way they flocked to him, the easy way he flirted back. But seeing it now, like this, hit differently. It was like watching a door slam shut, one he hadn't even realized he was hoping would stay open.
His throat tightened, and he swallowed hard, trying to push down the sharp ache in his chest. He'd never felt so small, so invisible, standing just a few feet away, watching as San gave someone else the kind of attention Yeosang had been secretly longing for.
What am I doing? he thought, the familiar self-doubt creeping in. He wasn't even supposed to care like this, not about San. Not about anyone, really. He'd told himself they were just friends, that he'd never let it be anything more. But the truth was staring him in the face now, undeniable and painful.
He blinked, forcing himself to turn away, his chest aching with a quiet, desperate sadness. He didn't know what hurt more—the sight of San with the girl, or the realization that no matter what he did, he could never be the one San looked at like that.
With a shaky breath, Yeosang turned and walked toward the back of the bar, his feet carrying him away from the noise, the laughter, and most of all, from the scene that had shattered something fragile inside him. He needed space. He needed to breathe. Because right now, the weight of everything he was feeling was too much to handle.
Yeosang walked slowly, the cool night air doing little to lift the heavy weight on his chest. He couldn't shake the image of San kissing that girl, his hands on her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world. The more he thought about it, the worse it hurt. It was the confirmation he never wanted but had always feared: San would never see him the way he wanted.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking him from his thoughts. Glancing down, he saw Wooyoung's name flashing on the screen. For a second, he debated ignoring the call—he didn't want to talk, didn't want to pretend like everything was fine—but he knew better. Wooyoung would just keep calling.
"Hey," Yeosang answered, his voice low, trying to sound normal.
"Yeosang!" Wooyoung's voice was loud and full of energy. "Oh my god, you won't believe the day I had. So, I met this guy today, right? Mingi! He is so hot. Like, tall and built and—ugh, I can't get over it! I think I'm in love."
Yeosang forced a small laugh, though his heart wasn't in it. "He sounds... great."
"Great? He's more than great! He's like... out of a movie! Mingi's all cool and mysterious. I'm seriously crushing hard right now. You have to meet him!"
Yeosang hummed in response, trying to keep up with Wooyoung's rambling. Usually, he would be more engaged, would tease Wooyoung or at least show more interest. But tonight, his heart wasn't in it. All he could think about was San, and the ache in his chest only grew heavier with each passing moment.
Wooyoung, perceptive as always, picked up on it immediately. "Yeosang? What's up? You're not even listening to me."
Yeosang bit his lip, trying to keep his voice steady. "I'm listening."
"No, you're not," Wooyoung replied, his tone softening with concern. "What happened? Did something happen with San?"
At the mention of San's name, Yeosang felt the knot in his chest tighten. He didn't know how to answer—didn't know if he even wanted to talk about it—but Wooyoung knew him too well. There was no point in pretending.
YOU ARE READING
Lines Crossed (SanSang)
FanfictionYeosang's love blooms too soon, met with a brother's embrace. Torn between tradition and truth, San must decide-follow his heart or remain bound by family ties.