Lines Crossed (SanSang)

38

San stepped outside, the crisp air biting against his skin. He leaned against the porch railing, staring out at the quiet street. He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply, trying to calm the frustration bubbling within him.

The door creaked open behind him, and he didn't need to turn around to know it was his mother. She approached quietly, her footsteps soft, and stood beside him.

"San," she started, her voice hesitant. "I'm sorry."

San didn't respond immediately. He kept his gaze on the street, his arms crossed over his chest. "You have to mean it, Mom," he said finally, his tone laced with exhaustion.

"I do," she said, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "I just... I'm trying to understand. It's not that I don't support you. I just want to make sure you're happy and not rushing into something."

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands. "Mom, this isn't something I'm rushing into or something I'm confused about. I've thought about this a lot, and I know how I feel. Why is that so hard to believe?"

She stayed quiet, her eyes searching his face. "Tell me about him," she said softly.

San turned to look at her, surprised by her request. "You really want to know?"

She nodded.

He hesitated for a moment but then started, his voice soft and tinged with a warmth he didn't even notice. "He's... incredible. Kind, quiet, but strong in his own way. He's the kind of person who doesn't realize how amazing he is, and it makes me want to tell him every day. He's so... pure, you know? He sees the world in this way that makes you want to be better, just to live up to how he sees you."

As he spoke, a small, unintentional smile formed on his lips. His mother noticed the light in his eyes, the way he spoke as though the person he described was his entire world.

"You'd love him, Mom," San continued. "If you just met him... you'd see it too."

His mother's expression softened, but there was still a trace of hesitation. "He sounds wonderful, San. He really does. But..."

San's face fell. "But what?"

She took a breath. "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want? That this is who you are? I'm just asking because—"

"Don't," San cut her off, his voice rising slightly in frustration. "Don't talk like Dad. Don't ask me if this is just a phase or if I'm confused. I'm not confused, Mom. I'm tired of everyone acting like I don't know my own feelings."

His mother flinched slightly but nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just want to protect you."

"Then believe me when I say I love him," San said, his voice quieter but no less firm.

The silence stretched between them for a moment.

Finally, she gave him a small smile. "I'll try, San. I really will."

He nodded, though the tension didn't leave his shoulders. "Thanks," he muttered, turning his gaze back to the street.

After a moment, he sighed heavily. "I don't even have my phone to call him. I don't know what he's thinking or how he's feeling, and it's driving me insane."

His mother hesitated. "Your father took it?"

San nodded, his jaw tightening. "He's trying to control me. Like taking my phone is going to change how I feel."

She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll try talking to him," she offered.

She gave his shoulder a squeeze before heading back inside, leaving San alone with his thoughts once again.