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- ˏˋ Sorry there's no way outˊˎ - .......✦........
It's been two weeks, and it has been the most peaceful, yet alarming weeks that Wooyoung have ever had the displeasure of experiencing. San hasn't moved out of their room in days, he also never answer when Wooyoung is talking to him, only giving him a short nod or shaking his head when asked something. When they sleep, Wooyoung is never allowed to hold around him like before, the two laying with their backs turned away from each other on the edge on both sides of the bed. Their bedroom is dirty and clothes are everywhere from San throwing them to the floor once a new day of isolation has passed.
He has heard him crying, soft sobs muffled because of the door separating him from Wooyoung who can't do anything but listen as he eat another dinner alone. Today however, he comes home and their bedroom door open, the lights of and blinds still closed. Did he forget to close the door this morning? He looked through the door, seeing the room empty with no sign of life. He frowned and looked around, the duvet on the floor with San's pajamas.
"San?" He called out, getting more worried when his voice echoed with no answer returned to him. The blonde male cursed under his breath and quickly walked out to the balcony to look down towards the dock, but it was no sign of him there. He looked through the entire house, but couldn't find him anywhere, until he reached his work room. Wooyoung carefully pushed the handle and looked into the room. The curtains were closed almost all the way, one warm stripe of light from the sun setting in the distance shining through.
In the middle of the room there was a canvas stand with a canvas on it. A small desk stood beside it with paints and a glass of water on it. Leaning onto the desk, was San, his chest rising and falling slowly as he slept tightly. He still had a brush in between his right middle and index fingers, almost slipping out of his non existent grasp. He looked beautiful, the orange light from outside making his brown hair look ethereal and his usually pale skin look more alive again.
He looked breathtaking.
Wooyoung walked into the room quietly, his eyes scanning the canvas, recognizing the people on the canvas as him and San, in a scene on the first day they ever exchanged words with each other. It was at the park where San had been sitting by the pond drawing for himself. The leaves had been blowing oh so softly, his then black hair blowing with it. He had been crying out of frustration over the piece he was working on, and for some reason, some unknown and weird reason, Wooyoung had felt the need to talk to him.
He wanted to know what was wrong, as he didn't like the thought of him crying by himself. Wooyoung started talking with San, finding out that they got along pretty well and the rest is history. The thought of San crying by himself still bothers him even to this day, but back then San didn't push him away, he needed to voice his frustration and put his mind to something else. Now San only pushes him away, saying that he doesn't deserve to be comforted since his pain is one that he has brought upon himself.
He sighed and leaned down to kiss San on the head, brushing his hair out of his face. Once again his face looked peaceful, and Wooyoung could only thank the gods for letting him see such a beautiful sight once more.
