The age of twenty-one, time to finally live like no other. One boy with a body made of impulses meets a boy that's in dire need of help.
"They call me a mess, and to that, I say fuck em"
(tw) gore, depression, panic attacks, and gay stuff
Updates ev...
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Choi San.
I plopped my back onto the bed. Staring at the ceiling with my phone in hand, sighing loudly. It was like my body had taken over. He said he needed help and I couldn't help but take him in. The last thing I want is for Jung Wooyoung to hang around someone like me.
I find myself getting attached to the kid. He seems to be going through the same things I am, and I can't help but want to protect him. But that's where it ends. It doesn't go past that feeling of wanting to protect him, but it still makes me afraid to get close to him.
The protectiveness I get around him meets no bounds. It doesn't even exclude me. Only the lord knows, the most dangerous thing for Wooyoung right now, is Choi San.
.
Jung Wooyoung.
It was the next day. I had rounded all of my stuff up, and left the motel, not forgetting to say goodbye to the nice lady at the front desk. As I headed towards the address that San sent me, I couldn't help but let my mind wander.
What if he sees me as some crazy person? That couldn't possibly be true since he's known as one of the most impulsive people ever, but everyone has to have a point where they draw the line. Now he's just gonna see me, some pathetic depressed kid with mommy issues show up at his doorstep.
He probably just pitties me. That's probably the reason he took me in in the first place. If I were him, I would pity me too.
The taxi driver pulled up to the front of a house, getting my attention so that he could leave. I examined the house. It was a decent size. While Choi San wasn't rich, you could tell he wasn't poor either.
I walked up the driveway, heading towards the front door with my little green ribbed suitcase tugging behind. Before I could even knock on the door, the door was opened up by the one and only.
There stood Choi San. His black and red hair tousled in many directions, being held back by a solid black headband. He was dressed in a black shirt, black cargo pants that closed around his waist fittingly, and black socks. His eyes were hanging low, as he looked like he had just recently woken up. He had a garbage bag in his hand, assumingly on his way to take out the trash. I found myself having surprising thoughts about the older boy for the second time. He may look like an emo trash boy, but he damn sure looked sexy while doing it.
San jumped back a little bit, startled by my presence. I smiled awkwardly at him, and he smiled awkwardly back. He moved back a little and motioned for me to come inside. I stepped inside while he went outside to put the trash bag on the curb. I looked around the house. It looked like a family home on the inside, but it felt awfully dull and empty.
San came back inside, taking off the two completely different pairs of sandals he had slipped on to take out the trash. He grabbed my suitcase and motioned for me to follow him.
