"I need a bathroom real quick," Wooyoung muttered, leaving San's room quickly to stop himself from embarrassment of crying in front of San.

"You ok -" San asked worridly, getting cut when Wooyoung reched, lips pressed in a line.

"Gonna throw up, can't breathe," Wooyoung gasped, his hands clutching his stomach as he hurried down the hallway. The bathroom door clicked shut behind him, and San leaned against the wall, concern etched across his face.

Inside, Wooyoung knelt by the toilet, his body trembling as waves of nausea hit him. He felt a mix of emotions—fear, shame, and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. He had always prided himself on being strong, but now, the weight of his feelings felt too heavy to bear.

San paced outside the door, his heart racing. The sound of retching filled the otherwise quiet house, and he wished he could do something—anything—to help Wooyoung.

"Wooyoung," he called softly, his voice layered with worry. "I'm right here. Just let it out; it’s okay."

Wooyoung didn’t respond, focusing instead on each breath, trying to steady himself. Tears streamed down his cheeks, mixing with the sweat on his forehead. It wasn’t just the physical sickness; it was everything—the pressure of expectations, the fear of the future, the memories that haunted him.

After what felt like an eternity, Wooyoung finally stopped, leaning against the cool porcelain of the toilet bowl. He let out a shaky breath, feeling momentarily lighter but still overwhelmed. He heard the soft sound of feet shuffling outside, San’s presence, a comforting reminder that he wasn’t alone.

"Can I come in?" San asked gently, his voice low but filled with warmth.

"Yeah," Wooyoung managed to say, his voice hoarse as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.

The door creaked open, and San peeked in, his eyes searching Wooyoung’s face. He quickly stepped inside, kneeling beside him. "Hey, you’re gonna be okay," he murmured, reaching out to rub reassuring circles on Wooyoung’s back.

Wooyoung took a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of San's hand grounding him. "I’m sorry for losing it," he whispered, embarrassment flooding back.

"Don’t apologize," San replied, his tone firm yet gentle. "We all have tough moments. Just let me help you."

Wooyoung nodded, allowing himself to lean into San’s comforting presence. For the first time in a while, he felt safe to be vulnerable, to let the feelings wash over him without judgment. With San by his side, he knew he could face whatever was on the horizon.

"Baby, can I ask you why you threw up? Was it a panic attack?" San asked after tucking Wooyoung in bed.

Wooyoung curled up under the covers, the soft fabric enveloping him like a warm hug. He turned slightly to look at San, who was perched on the edge of the bed, concern etched on his features.

“I think... I think it was,” Wooyoung admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean for it to happen in front of you. It just... all hit me at once."

San nodded, his brow furrowing as he listened. “What hit you? Is there something specific that’s bothering you? You can talk to me, you know that, right?”

Wooyoung hesitated for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. He wanted to be honest, to share the tumult of emotions swirling inside him. “It’s just... everything feels so overwhelming lately. Work, obligations, and, I don’t know, feeling like I’m not doing enough,” he confessed, his voice trembling. “I thought I had it under control, but then it all just—” He gestured vaguely, “—crashed down like a wave.”

San's heart ached for him. He reached out, gently brushing Wooyoung’s hair back from his forehead. “You don’t have to carry everything by yourself. You’re not alone in this, okay? I’m here for you—always.”

Tears brimmed in Wooyoung’s eyes as he nodded, feeling the warmth of San’s support wrap around him. “It’s just... sometimes, it feels like I have to be strong all the time. Like if I show weakness, everything will fall apart.”

“Being strong doesn’t mean you have to hold everything in,” San reassured him. “It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling. And it’s okay to lean on me when you need to. You don’t have to be perfect, and you don’t have to have all the answers.”

Wooyoung took a deep breath, the sincerity in San’s words easing some of the weight on his chest. “Thank you,” he murmured, wiping at his eyes. “I’m really lucky to have you.”

San smiled softly, his heart swelling with affection. “Lucky? I’m the lucky one. You deserve to share these feelings with someone who loves you. Let’s face this together. I promise we'll figure it out.”

Wooyoung felt a flicker of hope within him. For the first time in a while, he believed that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t have to fight the battle alone. With San by his side, he felt ready to face the storm.