A Place to Belong - Woosan

{ 25 - Heart-to-Heart with a Friend }

The days after that conversation with Wooyoung felt like walking through fog—everything heavy and slow, like San couldn't quite get enough air. He kept replaying the moment Wooyoung stood up, the quiet way he had said, "I'm falling for you." The words looped in his mind, sometimes making his chest ache, sometimes making his stomach twist with something he couldn't name.

He hadn't reached out. He didn't know how. Every time he picked up his phone, the words wouldn't come. His mind spun in circles, trying to find something that wouldn't sound pathetic or broken. What was he supposed to say?

I'm scared of you? Of how good you are to me?

Even thinking it sounded ridiculous. Obviously, it was more than that—his whole body felt on edge, like if he let this be real, it would somehow slip through his fingers. Every part of him was bracing for it to fall apart, for Wooyoung to wake up one day and realize San wasn't worth the effort. Because that's what happened before—when he let someone in, they left. Knowing this, part of him was pulling away before Wooyoung could. Not because he wanted to, but because his fear whispered that it was safer to run first. He could control his own heartbreak - on his terms.

By the third day, Hana showed up at his apartment unannounced, holding a bag of takeout and wearing that expression—the one that said she wasn't here to play around.

San opened the door, surprised. "Hana? What—?"

She breezed past him, setting the takeout on the table. "I figured if I waited for you to call, I'd be waiting until the next century."

San closed the door slowly, leaning against it. "I'm fine."

She snorted, while taking in his disheveled state. "You're a terrible liar. Try again."

San rubbed a hand over his face, sighing. "It's complicated."

"San, you've been avoiding everyone. You've definitely been avoiding Wooyoung. Now, either tell me what's going on, or I'm going to guess—badly—and make it worse. Or I might just call Wooyoung and ask him."

He gave her a weak smile. "Don't threaten me with that."

She raised a brow. "Try me."

San sat down heavily on the couch, running both hands through his hair. Hana took the chair across from him, watching quietly, giving him space but not letting him off the hook. Finally, he exhaled, staring at the floor.

"I screwed things up," he muttered.

Hana leaned forward. "With Wooyoung?"

He nodded. "I don't know how to do this. I thought I could, but..." His throat tightened, and he swallowed. "He said he's falling for me. I was shocked, elated, but then immediately fearful. Then instead of being happy, I panicked. I ran. He must hate me."

Hana's gaze softened, but her voice stayed steady. "San, what are you so afraid of?"

He let out a bitter laugh. "Everything. Trusting him. Trusting myself. Believing that someone like him could actually want me and want to stay."

Hana was quiet for a long moment, then she asked gently, "Do you think he's like the  one who's name we do not say...the last one?"

San shook his head quickly. "No. He's nothing like that. That's the problem. He's good. He's... safe. Though my brain knows that - emotionally - I don't know what to do with that. I just panicked."

Hana leaned back, studying him. "You are telling me, you're afraid because it feels real. Because it's not a disaster waiting to happen."

San shrugged, not trusting himself to answer.