𝐏𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬 || sansang

2.03 Desperate times

The entire apartment was shaking when Yeosang slammed the front door behind him. Heaving for air, with his vision blurring up from the tears he no longer had control over, he pulled his jacket off with such aggression that the seams were screaming at him. 

Wine was poured as close to the edge of the glass as it could be, held in his trembling hand and soon raised towards his lips. Yeosang sat down in the kitchen, diving his fingers through his hair and tugging it until it hurt. He refused to cry, but it was so damn hard not to. 

Before he knew better, the glass was almost empty - so fast one could've believed it had been pure water, and he had been close to dying from dehydration. He poured another, with no other goal than to numb the feeling of his heart pounding hard in his chest. 

Yeosang yanked his phone out from his pocking, and unlocked it with shaking fingers. The dial tone was a loud noise in his ear, blending with the sound of his own heavy breathing.

"I need to see you."

"Yeosang? What is going on?"

"I said, I need to see you." Yeosang clenched his fist in his hair, head bent down and with every breath stinging in his lungs.

"You know that this isnt-"

"Seonghwa. Come home, now!" With a growl of desperation in his voice, Yeosang hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket.

As he waited he managed to empty the entire bottle of wine, now slumping in the wide sofa while staring out the windows where the city lights merged into one in front of his eyes. 

He felt everything so painfully much, too much - to an extend where he began questioning if he even felt anything at all, or if he had simply forgotten what it was like to have real emotions run through him. 

The door to the apartment opened, and the sound had him jerk his head towards the direction of the hallway. His eyes were weary, but they still saw things more clearly than his clouded mind. Seonghwa stepped into the living room, slowly unwrapping his black scarf from his neck, with a questioning look on his face.

"Why did you call me? You are well aware of the agreements between us." The older said as he came closer.

"And you are well aware that you and I are married, right?" Yeosang promptly responded. He got up from the couch, and soon after his fingers were hooked around the collar of Seonghwa's shirt. "So, let's act like it."

Yeosang pulled the older's belt off with such force it had a whipping sound echoing through the room. His hand slipped into Seonghwa's pants, feeling the warmth of something he should find comforting to touch, but all he felt was his own desperation rising. 

"You're drunk," Seonghwa mumbled, but his hand found its way to the back of Yeosang's neck, fingers slowly tangling into his hair and running in soft circles.