implausible - woosan

chapter sixteen

you had a life
before me

san wooyoung

11.07.17

after a restless night of sleep in which wooyoung had been riddled with agitation, the next time he wakes up is to his alarm. blaring, at an ungodly hour on this wednesday morning.

he has no way of knowing where san is or how he's going to get to school, despite it being his room in which he wakes, his bed on which he tossed and turned. san's brash words from yesterday - knives thrown carelessly in his unrest and anger - haunt the blonde's thoughts. he shudders, refusing to believe the brisk snaps had been serious.

wooyoung hopes he knows better: san only hurts him because it hurts himself, and he never wants anyone to get too close to him. a coping mechanism so he will not have to dwell on the reality of his worst fears, brandished into his forearm. not that planting the idea san might take his own own life in wooyoung's head was the most considerate way to do it.

he sits up hastily, the duvet falling off of him. feeling his surroundings carefully, fingertips skimming the bedsheets tentatively, he finds his phone to stop the alarm. it's a routine, to check it every morning for voice messages. he does, clicking the button under his thumb routinely.

for the first time, there's one from san. his voice rings out into the empty room, allowing wooyoung to breathe a little. "sorry about last night.  i have the day off school and i'm using it to do something stupid and reckless with seonghwa. going to get a tattoo i choose. left you clothes on the dresser and door unlocked, kibum will take you to school. i trust him, but sorry again. bye."

he replays it a few times, processing. the most shocking part is perhaps san getting a tattoo, and wooyoung smiles at the cheeky excitement evident in san's tone when he says the sentence.

sliding out of bed, he makes his way clumsily to the wall for his cane, grabbing hold of the white stick gratefully. it's hard, stupidly hard, to find his way around the unfamiliar space, and it takes wooyoung too long to get dressed. he doesn't even bother with the tie, snuggling into a sweater that smells of leafy warmth: of san.

nodding to himself in acceptance of the situation, he turns back to the wall and feels around for the door, which he opens tiredly. he's still sleepy, and has no idea how san expects him to find this kibum person.

oh well. he sighs, closing the door behind himself and stepping out into the hall. before he can get very far, wooyoung's trek is interrupted by a singsong voice he isn't accustomed to, therefore answering his question.

"you took your time, kid! been waiting out here forever."

"sorry..." he begins to mumble unsurely, already beginning to resent san for leaving him with this unknown man.

a laugh sounds in response, only confusing him further. "don't look so scared! i don't bite. usually." before he can reply, the man continues. "it's kibum. suppose san told you that, but i'll introduce myself. little bastard making you my responsibility."

blue eyes widening a bit at the unprecedented situation, shame warms his cheeks. of course, he is viewed as burdensome. "better get going, then." his icy words fire back. "don't want to take up any more of your time."

kibum huffs, walking over to take wooyoung's arm. "come on, then."

they walk downstairs, and wooyoung has to ask. "you don't think he'd..." he starts, biting his lip trepidatiously. "you don't think he'd do anything stupid, right? to himself."