implausible - woosan

chapter seven

san wooyoung

27.06.17

it's been a week since yeosang's borderline disastrous birthday party, and not a day has gone by when san has shown the harsh dismissive side wooyoung is growing less accustomed to. the boy seems to be letting that part of him lie dormant for a while, and wooyoung's just counting the seconds until it resurfaces to bite him once more.

something must've happened that night at yeosang's, but however hard he racks his brain for what; wooyoung can't recall. all he knows is he woke up the next day with a pounding head, whispers of barely decipherable words and hints of ghostly touches breezing his memories teasingly, none of which he could trust.

san has been flirting almost unbearably since, and wooyoung's far from quick to admitting he's beginning to enjoy the jest. at least that's what he thinks it is.

seonghwa has been working on repairing what he'd broken, feebly trying to redeem himself in hopes of reconciliation with his soulmate. yeosang's dismally already falling for it, and wooyoung can only hope that park seonghwa means what he says.

he supposes that's the beauty of soulmates, though. forgiveness regardless of the crime, no request too small or too large; loving one another the only imperative importance. even if yeosang hated what seonghwa has done, their bond would prevent him from really hating him. his soul has loved him long before his heart and mind will accept he does. from the moment they meet, soulmates are unable to draw themselves away from each other.

for better or for worse- "if it isn't my favourite blind boy." san's teasing voice interrupts his private soliloquy.

"your only blind boy." wooyoung huffs, turning away from the direction it comes from.

"but still my favourite." san counters, throwing an arm around the blonde's shoulders. wooyoung's beginning to think touch is san's love language.

the shorter rolls his blue eyes, walking towards his next class. unfortunately, due to the fact he's still shadowing san, it's the other's next class too, so he's stuck with him.

"let's be real, though." wooyoung shoots back, "if there was another blind person- an old man without a cane, let's say- crossing the road at the same time as me, who would you help?"

"you, of course." san laughs without a second thought. "how else would i get your number? i'm not about to hit up some oldie."

"you're a terrible person." wooyoung concludes with a shake of his head, but he's smiling. "why does helping someone involve romantic interest? can't you do it just for the sake of being a good person?"

"excuse me! i'm the one who sacrificed his friday night-" san scoffs, but breaks off before he says too much. wooyoung's neck jerks around, and he gives an accusing look to the dubious slip. something had happened. he's not sure he wants to know what.

"i don't see how this relates to you being my favourite." san changes the direction of what he's saying, diverting answering. wooyoung knows it doesn't, but has come to enjoy humoring him.

he shrugs, feeling the other squeeze his shoulder indicatively to which he attempts to shake the arm off- to no avail. yep, he thinks. touch is definitely his love language.