Whispers of Desire || Woosan🔞

29: Resignation

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＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

At school, Wooyoung had been feeling off all day. It wasn't anything specific-just a lingering unease that he couldn't shake off. The atmosphere felt heavy, like a brewing storm about to crash over him. The voices in the hallways were drowned out by the loud beating of his heart. It was Friday, the end of the week, but instead of excitement, anxiety curled itself around his chest like a serpent tightening its grip.

He was walking alone to the bathroom between classes, his mind drifting toward simpler times when he'd laugh with Jisung and Felix, or spend late nights watching movies curled beside San. But those moments now felt like distant memories, washed in sepia tones. His steps echoed faintly on the tiles, the silence amplifying every footfall.

Halfway down the hallway, a chill ran down his spine.

Wooyoung paused mid-step.

He felt it.

That familiar, suffocating sensation of being watched.

His breathing hitched, and his shoulders tensed. Slowly, cautiously, he turned his head over his shoulder.

Three tall figures stood behind him, unmoving, like statues come to life.

The man in the center stood out immediately. He was older, likely in his mid-50s, though his body still held the strength of his youth. A cigarette dangled lazily from the corner of his lips, smoke curling upward like a serpent.

His features were sharp, chiseled, and his eyes-oh those eyes-were deep, wrinkled at the edges, but somehow still radiated calm menace. They blinked slowly, deliberately, staring directly at Wooyoung.

Flanking him were two massive bodyguards in black suits, their hands clasped in front of them, the kind of men who didn't speak unless ordered. They wore dark sunglasses despite being indoors, their presence radiating silent threat.

The hallway suddenly felt colder.

The older man stepped forward. He didn't speak right away, just stared, as if measuring Wooyoung's soul.

Then, his voice came. Low. Raspy. Smooth.

"Follow us quietly."

Wooyoung's breath caught in his throat. He looked to the left, then the right, expecting someone-anyone-to be around. But the hallway was deserted. No students, no teachers, no chance of escape.

He should have run.

He should have screamed.

But he didn't.

There was fear clawing at the edges of his mind, yes. But underneath that fear was something else.

Resignation.

He obeyed.

Wordlessly, he took a tentative step forward, then another. His limbs felt foreign, like they belonged to someone else. He walked toward the trio, his head lowered slightly, every breath measured.

As they exited the school building, he caught the glint of sunlight off a sleek black car parked by the curb. It was a luxury vehicle, sleek and intimidating, the kind of car that didn't belong in a school parking lot.

One of the bodyguards stepped forward, pulling out a long strip of black fabric.

Wooyoung instinctively stepped back, his muscles tensing.

The older man raised a hand gently. "Just a blindfold. We don't want to scare you, kid. It's protocol."

His voice was calm, almost gentle, but something in his tone said this wasn't optional.

Wooyoung took a shaky breath and nodded.

The blindfold was tied around his eyes-not roughly, but firmly. It was soft velvet, the kind of detail that confused him even more. Why such care in something so frightening?

With a hand on his elbow, he was gently guided forward. The door opened with a soft click, and he slid into the car. The leather seats were smooth and smelled faintly of expensive cologne and tobacco. The door shut with a muffled thud, enclosing him in darkness.

He was alone now, surrounded by silence and the occasional creak of the car as it settled. A few seconds later, the engine purred to life.

He didn't speak.

He didn't struggle.

Something about the way they moved, the way they handled him, felt calculated and familiar. Like this wasn't their first time.

He leaned his head back, letting the vibration of the road soothe his chaotic thoughts. His mind raced with questions, but answers eluded him.

Who were they?

Where were they taking him?

Was San involved in this?

His stomach twisted painfully at the thought of San. He'd been gone for too long, distant for too long. And now this? Was this somehow connected?

Wooyoung didn't know.

But he was about to find out.