Whispers of Desire || Woosan🔞

28: Silence

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             ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Another three weeks slipped by, dragging slowly as if time itself was trying to mirror the weight in Wooyoung’s heart. With each passing day, the hope that San would reach out began to dwindle like the final flickers of a dying candle. Mornings felt heavier, and nights were unbearable. The silence that once felt comforting now echoed in his chest, loud and taunting.

Wooyoung began to create a fragile reality within himself—a place where San was no longer coming back. He imagined a world where the man who once held him so gently, kissed him so passionately, and whispered sweet promises into his skin, had simply decided to forget him. Maybe San had never meant those words. Maybe Wooyoung was just another fleeting distraction in his dangerous, chaotic world. The thoughts plagued him, poking holes through every joyful memory they'd shared.

But through the ache and confusion, a different bond was forming. One that had been quietly building in the shadows of San’s absence.

Yeonjun.

The older male became Wooyoung's anchor, a steady presence amidst the emotional storm he was caught in. It began with small gestures—bringing him his favorite snacks, checking in after class, watching movies together in silence when words felt too heavy. Then, it evolved.

When Wooyoung cried in the middle of the night, Yeonjun was there to hold him. When nightmares stole his sleep, Yeonjun was the one who whispered that it was okay, that he was safe. He never tried to replace San, never pushed. He just stayed. And that quiet loyalty began to stitch itself into Wooyoung’s healing heart.

By now, Wooyoung spent most of his time with Yeonjun and his friends. Jisung and Felix noticed the change too. They'd stopped teasing him about San. Instead, they comforted him the best way they knew how—with warmth, silliness, and loyalty.

One particular Friday afternoon, the sky wore a blanket of gray clouds, threatening rain. School had ended, and Yeonjun had picked Wooyoung up in their usual sleek black car. The drive was quiet at first, the air filled with soft music and Wooyoung humming quietly along. His eyes drooped lazily, and he wore his headphones like usual, head leaned against the window.

But Yeonjun noticed something.

A sleek black Jaguar had been trailing behind them for almost six blocks now. At first, he’d ignored it, thinking it might be coincidence or someone just headed in the same direction. But the longer it stayed behind them—mimicking every turn, maintaining an eerily consistent distance—Yeonjun knew it wasn’t random.

His grip tightened on the steering wheel, his posture stiffening.

Wooyoung turned slightly, noticing the tension radiating off him.

"Something wrong?" he asked, lifting one earbud.

Yeonjun looked over at him, forcing a smile. "Nothing to worry about, Woo. Just fasten your seatbelt, okay? And maybe keep your headphones in for now."

The younger’s brows furrowed, sensing the unease beneath Yeonjun’s calm voice, but he obeyed without pressing further.

Yeonjun’s fingers moved quickly to the dashboard controls. Pressing a sequence known only to those in San’s inner circle, he activated the emergency protocol—calling in for backup.

“Code Alpha. Black Jag, tailing since sector seven,” he muttered into the mic embedded in the dashboard.

A crackling voice replied, “Understood. Eyes in the sky tracking. Exit point ready. Stay on course.”

Yeonjun took a deep breath and adjusted the rearview mirror.

Then he pressed the gas.

The car surged forward as Yeonjun took a sharp turn, veering off the usual route. The Jaguar followed, but Yeonjun wasn’t just skilled—he was trained. He swerved through back roads, darting through narrow alleys, until the Jaguar finally lost sight of them. In a few minutes, they were back on their original route.

Yeonjun exhaled slowly, keeping his composure. Wooyoung hadn’t seen the whole chase, but he could tell something had shifted. He wasn’t stupid.

That night, Wooyoung sat in his room, wrapped in his hoodie. The shadows on his walls felt darker than usual. He stared at his phone—San’s name still pinned at the top of his chat list. He hadn’t deleted it. He couldn’t. But the messages remained unread, unopened, unanswered.

The next few days only worsened the sinking feeling in Wooyoung’s chest.

The black Jaguar returned. Then another car joined the tailing. Random calls started flooding in at odd hours of the night. The screen would flash unknown numbers—always different. Sometimes there was no sound, just a silent breath. Other times, it was distorted voices, strange echoes, and once, even a recording of his own voice.

It terrified him.

Wooyoung started having trouble sleeping. Every creak in the house made his heart pound. He flinched whenever someone touched his shoulder. He began to keep the curtains closed during the day and double-check the locks at night.

Even at school, he felt eyes on him. Watching. Judging. Stalking.

Felix and Jisung noticed.

“Are you okay, Woo?” Jisung asked one lunch break, leaning closer. “You’ve been zoning out a lot.”

Wooyoung blinked, looking up from his barely-touched food. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Bullshit,” Felix muttered, concern evident in his tone. “You flinched when the teacher tapped your desk today.”

“I said I’m fine!” Wooyoung snapped before instantly regretting it. He sighed and lowered his head. “Sorry. I’m just… not myself lately.”

The two didn’t press. They just leaned in closer, their presence a comfort.

Back home, Yeonjun became even more protective.

He changed the security protocols. Added surveillance. Trained Wooyoung to recognize fake calls and track license plates. He’d begun sleeping on the couch in Wooyoung’s room without being asked. Just to make sure he was okay.

And still, through it all, Wooyoung held onto that tiny flicker of hope—that San would return. That he’d call. Text. Apologize. Explain.

But silence.

Only silence.

And in that silence, the imaginary world where San had forgotten him started to look a little too real.

His fingers hovered over San’s name one night.

Typing: “I miss you. I’m scared. Please come back.”

But he never sent it.

He just stared at the blinking cursor.

Then deleted it.

And went to bed with a hollow ache in his chest.