tw: mentions of suicide

you chose:
a) react verbally

* * *

"Leave him alone!" Wooyoung yelled, dropping his bag. He was freaking out, had no idea what had caused this and what he'd gotten himself into again, but the way Seonghwa was practically dragging Yeosang by the hair had him infuriated in ways he'd never felt before. "He did nothing wrong! What are you doing? Let him go!"

Seonghwa's grip on Yeosang's dark hair tightened, but instead of pain, the younger's face was screwed up in complete and utter annoyance. Like he was used to this.

"He did nothing wrong?" Seonghwa repeated Wooyoung's question like it was the most preposterous thing he'd ever heard of. His usually round eyes formed angry slits as he stared Yeosang down as if he were the gum stuck underneath his shoe. "You have no idea all the things he's done."

What the hell is he talking about? Wooyoung's fists clenched, contemplating if he should've just went for punching Seonghwa in the face to let Yeosang go. But he knew that would've ended badly, and who knew what the blond would've done to him as a result?

"Leave him," he tried again. Seonghwa's harsh stares were intimidating, frightening even. Even when they weren't directed at him. A part of him just wanted to leave the kitchen and shut himself in his room, but there was no way he could do that. Not when Yeosang needed his help.

"S...Seonghwa," San whispered, alerting Wooyoung of his presence. He had a black hoodie on, and generally looked okay except for the reddish bruise tainting the lower half of his neck. "Wooyoung... He told you to let him go. Aren't you gonna listen?"

"You heard him," Yeosang spat, rolling his eyes. The cheek Seonghwa had slapped still throbbed a terrible pink, making Wooyoung wince at the sight. "Get your hands off my hair."

For a second, Seonghwa's gaze softened, frown lines disappearing like he was going to finally listen. But then he pushed Yeosang up to the wall, fingers still squeezing his hair.

Wooyoung didn't think. He rushed towards them and grabbed Seonghwa by the arm, forcefully tugging him away. "I said, let him go."

Seonghwa didn't even put up a fight. He let Wooyoung drag him away from Yeosang, who was now kneeling on the ground, looking unscathed despite his red cheek and messy hair.

But he did grab Wooyoung's wrist just as the shorter had been about to head over to Yeosang.

"What -- " Wooyoung panicked, Seonghwa's seething eyes boring into his. "What are you doing? I need to help Yeosang."

"No you don't," Seonghwa huffed, tone dripping with barely restrained fury. His fingers were hard and unrelenting around Wooyoung's wrist as he began to pull him into the hall. "San will take care of it."

"Where are you taking me?" Wooyoung questioned, nearly shouting, but Seonghwa wasn't listening, his jaw clenched and eyes glaring daggers into the darkness.

Someone stepped out of their room right then, shoulders bent and eyes lowered. Wooyoung soon recognized them as Yunho.

Yunho ignored both men, not even sparing them a glance as he headed for the kitchen. It made Wooyoung panic all the more, because what kind of control did Seonghwa have over him -- over all of them -- to not make him react the way he should've reacted after everything Seonghwa had done?

Seonghwa pushed Wooyoung into a room he'd never seen before. Off-white walls casted in shadows, a shut window off to the side, a large closet and a neat bed were all Wooyoung could see before Seonghwa stepped in, drawing his eyes to him.

"You should never ever believe anything Yeosang tells you," Seonghwa warned, his husky voice low and downright hypnotizing. Why was he so close? "Whatever he told you, forget it. Please."

"Why?" Wooyoung asked, taking a step back only to fall on the bed. He didn't let that deter him from glaring hard at the older man. "Because he's a so-called 'compulsive liar'?"

"It's more than that!" Seonghwa snapped, his raised tone startling Wooyoung. He turned and started pacing around the room, hands clasped behind his back in a death grip. "Yeosang is fake. Everything about him is fake."

"...What are you saying?" Wooyoung swallowed, watching as Seonghwa continued to march about. His hands were clenched and shaking so badly, it got Wooyoung worried.

"He..." Seonghwa's voice broke, "he was born in Japan despite being Korean. Did horrible things there and escaped before the authorities could even think of coming after him." He bit his trembling lower lip as he finally faced Wooyoung. "E-Everything about him is fake, Wooyoung; his name, his age, even his face. Fake, fake, fake."

Seonghwa's eyes welled up with tears. "But -- but even with that, I helped him. I didn't judge him for his past, took him under my wing, thought of him as my family. A-And now, this is how he chooses to repay me?"

Wooyoung stood up, head spinning with all the information Seonghwa had just given him. Was he telling the truth? Or was this a lie too? "Are -- are you serious?"

"Yes," Seonghwa wailed, burying his face into his hands. He was on his knees before Wooyoung knew it, shoulders hunched as wretched sobs left him.

"Oh my god..." Wooyoung was baffled at the image that greeted him. Seonghwa, the man he'd never thought would lose his cool when they'd first met, was now on the ground, crying. Fuck, he didn't know what to do. What could he do? He'd never bargained for this at all.

He moved closer, crouching next to Seonghwa who was still crying into his hands. Pity squeezed his heart at the hopelessness reeking from the older's actions, and hell, it made Wooyoung feel...bad. God he felt bad.

"Seonghwa, it's...it's okay," he assured, not knowing what else to do. He scooted even closer, guilt piercing his chest at the tears that continued to escape the older's eyes and his gut-wrenching sobs.

"It's okay, Hwa," the nickname left Wooyoung before he even had the chance to correct it. He pressed his hand on the man's shaking back, rubbing soft circles into it. "Everything's gonna be okay. I'm sorry for...for getting mad at you."

Seonghwa's cries had reduced into sniffles by now. His hands fell, his face a rosy pink with tears rolling down his cheeks. He looked younger like this -- like a kid.

"I..." His voice was rough, quivering with all the tears he'd shed. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this. I-I don't know what came over me."

Seonghwa's eyes were on the carpet, shame brimming in them. His lips kept trembling.

"It's okay." Wooyoung reached his hand out to graze Seonghwa's cheekbone, only to freeze when the older's eyes flickered over to his. They shone like stars, just like always. Wooyoung felt himself gulp.

"...Stay with me tonight, Wooyoung," Seonghwa whispered, voice as soft as clouds. "Please. I -- I feel alone. Everyone -- even my family -- they've all left me. Please don't leave me too. I -- " he inhaled deeply, "I need you, please."

Wooyoung paused. Seonghwa's gaze didn't break, didn't falter. His pulse picked up. "I don't..."

"Please, Wooyoung," Seonghwa pleaded, entwining their fingers. "I can't -- I feel like I'm going to die -- "

"You're not gonna die," Wooyoung quickly shook his head, staring at their interlocked hands. "You'll be okay, Hwa."

"Hwa?" Seonghwa's voice was small.

"Mhm." Wooyoung brought him to his feet, wrapping an arm around the older's waist to steady him. Seonghwa melted into his touch, sinking his chin on his shoulder. "You like it?"

"I do..." Seonghwa replied with a sniff.

Wooyoung hoped Seonghwa couldn't feel how quick his heart was beating. He guided the blond to the bed, a lump in his throat as he watched him cuddle up to his pillow. He couldn't believe he was actually considering lying next to Seonghwa.

"Woo?" Seonghwa asked, staring expectantly at him.

Wooyoung crawled into the bed, the duvet smooth and warm under him. Pretending Seonghwa's dark, searing stares didn't affect him in the slightest, he also laid his head on the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

"Thank you," Seonghwa exhaled. His voice sounded a little stuffy, probably because of the way he'd cried. "So, so much. I appreciate you so much. No one's ever done this for me before."

"Done what?" Wooyoung questioned. He stubbornly kept his eyes upwards, feeling all the blood rush to his head at the way Seonghwa continued to look at him.

"Well..." Seonghwa laughed, but it sounded tormented. "Since I was a child, I've never had someone lying beside me to sleep. I've never been held lovingly, either." He chewed his lip, gaze solely trained on Wooyoung and on Wooyoung alone. "It sounds dumb, but, my mom never liked to touch me. She...she never liked singing me to sleep, or reading me bedtime stories either. And my dad didn't care much about me too..."

Wooyoung blinked, trying to erase the memories of the past threatening to drown him. Because his mother also never did anything of that sort. She was overprotective in all the wrong ways, and always skipped out on affection. His father was even worse.

The lump in his throat grew so large it became painful to swallow down. "It's not dumb, believe me. I'm sorry that happened to you."

"I'm sorry too."

"What?"

Seonghwa shifted closer, causing Wooyoung to finally lock eyes with him. "You just seem sad."

"I'm not, don't worry," Wooyoung waved him off. But of course, his heart was basically speeding off inside his chest, turning his hands excrutiatingly clammy. "...You okay now?"

"Now that you're here, yeah." Seonghwa slowly shut his eyes, revealing just how long his lashes were. The contours of his face had considerably lightened, contentment overtaking his expression. He looked peaceful. Happy.

Wooyoung spent more time watching him than he'd like to admit. He licked his lips, thinking over his and Seonghwa's previous conversations, especially the one they'd had in front of that convenience store when he'd been caught looking through the older's stuff.

"Are you and your sister on good terms?"

"She doesn't talk to me."

Wooyoung's breath hitched. Seonghwa had said before that his sister loved leaving her stuff inside his car, but now he just said she didn't talk to him.

Seonghwa opened his eyes. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no." Wooyoung couldn't afford Seonghwa realizing what he'd done, so he slid in, letting his hand linger on the man's toned chest. He instantly felt Seonghwa shiver underneath his touch. "Nothing is. Just...go to sleep."

"Will you be here?" Seonghwa asked, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

"Yes. I'll be here."

Seonghwa held the patterned duvet, before pulling it over the both of them. He was smiling, absolutely giddy at the prospect of Wooyoung sleeping next to him.

A tiny, foolish part of Wooyoung found it cute. Fortunately it was small enough to ignore. "You look excited."

Seonghwa hummed, biting his lip to contain his smile. "I am. Thank you, Youngie."

Fuck, Wooyoung's heart shouldn't have been racing this hard. It was so wrong to feel this way about someone who he'd seen hurt others, someone who was so unpredictable it was scary.

"Goodnight, Hwa."

"...Can you me 'Hwa' again?" Seonghwa had his eyes shut, but his smile was still as radiant as ever.

Wooyoung's face warmed. "Hwa."

Seonghwa hummed again, but he didn't respond further than that. He was soon quiet, chest rising and falling steadily. He'd fallen asleep.

Wooyoung contemplated leaving the room at that moment, but then he remembered the promise he'd made to the older man. I'll be here.

He huffed, cursing the way he just couldn't seem to think straight anytime he and Seonghwa talked. You're so goddamn stupid.

He stared at Seonghwa once more. The man's dirty blond hair laid over his forehead in soft waves, puckered lips pink and pretty. They tempted him.

Wooyoung slipped off the bed, unable to take it anymore. If he couldn't leave, he could at least stay someplace else that wasn't Seonghwa's bed.

His intention at first was to find a suitable area to sit, but his eyes were quickly drawn to the small drawer near the closet. Curiosity pooled in his gut, and for a second, he stood still, wondering if snooping around again would be a good idea.

Seonghwa caught you last time, he thought. If he catches you again, he'll do something for sure.

But Wooyoung didn't want to listen. He glanced Seonghwa's way, seeing the man still sound asleep. He's sleeping. Hurry the hell up.

Wooyoung quietly tugged at the first drawer, only for it to not budge. It was locked.

"Fuck..." He muttered, going for the next one. It glided open with little force, displaying two books which looked like fiction novels, considering their titles.

Wooyoung snatched one up and flipped through its pages, finding nothing. Settling it down where he'd found it, he took the second, doing the same thing with it.

He nearly bumped into something in shock when a set of Polaroids fell out, decorating the thin carpet. As silently as he possibly could, he bent and picked them up, realizing they were five in number.

He waited until his eyes fully adjusted to the dim lighting to find out what those pictures contained, and when he finally did, his lips dropped open in surprise.

The faces of San, Hongjoong, Mingi, Yunho and Yeosang stared at him through the polaroids. Only San and Hongjoong were smiling, while the rest looked uninterested or apathetic.

Yunho's and Mingi's looked the least recent in the sense that they looked much younger in their photos, with different hair colours altogether.

And it was mighty strange, because why would Seonghwa keep their pictures in his room? Maybe because they're all friends?

Wooyoung then remembered Seonghwa slapping Yeosang, which made him all the more confused about those pictures.

He flipped Yeosang's polaroid around, noticing the date neatly scribbled on the back with a black marker. 12-08-2020. Over a month ago.

San's words to him his first night here rang in his head. Sang recently joined a month before, and you're our newest addition.

"...Wooyoung?"

Wooyoung dropped the polaroids, hissing loudly just as his knee hit the drawer. Oh shit.

He turned around, cringing at the silence that'd now encompassed the bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Seonghwa questioned. He'd propped himself up against the bedpost, his deep brown eyes watching Wooyoung like he could see right through him.

Wooyoung couldn't speak, couldn't formulate any words. He was caught in the act (again), and there was no excuse he could give that'd sound believable.

His nerves were definitely at an all-time high, so he seriously did not expect Seonghwa to cover his lips and laugh softly into his hand.

"Do you like those pics?"

"W-What?" Wooyoung voiced out, bewildered beyond belief.

"The polaroids." Seonghwa repeated with a fond smile. "You like them? I took them myself."

"Uh," Wooyoung cleared his throat, "yes. I do. They're...nice."

"Thank you. Would you also like one?"

"Huh?"

Seonghwa tilted his head to the side, looking at Wooyoung with both amusement and wonder. "A polaroid, Wooyoung. Would you like me to take one of you?"

Keep your distance.

Wooyoung's hands clenched. If Yeosang was indeed who Seonghwa had described him as, then the dark haired male should've been the last person he trusted. But Yeosang's words to him earlier tonight sounded honest, sincere. He didn't seem like someone who'd faked his entire identity at all.

"Well, it depends on what they're used for," Wooyoung decided to answer with that.

"They're keepsakes," Seonghwa chuckled, getting up to his feet. "Those guys are like my friends, my family, and I love them."

He kept walking until he stopped before Wooyoung, taking the polaroids from the carpet. "And I only take pictures of those I love."

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want to come with? Jaemin's holding a party at his beach house for the first time in forever and everybody's preparing to get so wasted they won't even be able to walk straight," Han Jisung asked from the doorway for what seemed to be the hundredth time that night.

Jongho looked up from his laptop's screen from where he sat on the sofa, and shook his head. Again. "Nah, I'm good."

"Studying?" At Jongho's shrug, Jisung just laughed. "Living up to the college student stereotype, I see."

Jongho threw a cushion at him, the older boy narrowly missing it.

"Ooh, cranky."

Jongho smiled, clicking open a new tab. "Shut the hell up and leave already, Sung."

"I will. But before I go, I hope you know the brownie in the fridge belongs to me. Take a piece, and I'll know."

Jongho rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright."

A few seconds later, Jisung had vanished, leaving Jongho with his laptop and his thoughts, which were too numerous at this point. Yes, he had planned to do some studying, but his head was too cluttered to actually concentrate on any schoolwork he'd planned on completing tonight.

He closed his eyes, Wooyoung's face on his mind as soon as he did so. He bet the older was already asleep. Was he holding on to the plushie he bought him? Jongho hoped he was.

He also hoped those roommates of his weren't disturbing him, specifically that Park Seonghwa guy.

Jongho chewed his lip as he typed Park Seonghwa into the search bar, before clicking 'enter'.

He didn't know the exact reason he'd done this. He blamed it on curiosity, but a part of him itched to find out if the man had done suspicious things in the past so there'd finally be a good reason for Wooyoung to leave that apartment.

You're not his mother. You can't tell him what to do, his mind argued, and Jongho knew it was right. But here he was, rapidly scrolling through the results he'd found like some creepy stalker.

The results weren't particularly interesting; only social media links and blogs of people who had similar names to Seonghwa's showed up. The guy apparently had no online presence, which made things all the more difficult for Jongho.

Even with this, he continued to search, clicking through countless links and articles that came back up empty. But he was quickly frustrated.

"Nothing's coming up..." He mumbled, only to pause once he saw a particular news article at the bottom of the screen that caught his eye.

Ten year old drowns in Sangil beach last Saturday.

It was an old article from 2007, but the beach name captured his attention, causing him to press on the link before he could overthink it.

It brought him to a page with a plain white design, with minimal pictures and words Jongho was sure he was going to have a headache reading through.

He soon discovered he didn't have to read much, anyway.

Ten-year-old Park Jaehwa was found dead at Sangil beach last Saturday at around five pm as a result of drowning, with no adults in sight. Police report only his twin brother, Park Seonghwa was present at the scene, silent and unwilling to respond to all questions asked of him.

Authorities suspect the brother had something to do with his death as he was the only one there, but with the lack of proof nor evidence, all claims have been denied.

Jongho continued to read on, but the words soon faded out of existence the minute he saw the picture of the twin who'd passed away and Seonghwa side by side.

Even with the graininess and how many years had passed, Jongho could see the resemblance as clear as day.

They looked alike. So, so alike that it chilled Jongho to the bone. But the stranger thing was the fact that Jongho knew which twin was Seonghwa even before he'd seen their names.

Because unlike Jaehwa, Seonghwa's eyes were dead.

* * *

When Wooyoung stepped out of his room the next morning fully dressed, it was like nothing had happened the night before.

Hongjoong was in the kitchen making breakfast, even shooting a brief smile at Wooyoung when their eyes met. San was setting the cups, neck as unblemished as ever, and Yeosang was seated at the island, sipping a glass of water and swiping through stuff on his phone that Wooyoung couldn't see. There was nothing on his skin that indicated he'd been slapped.

"Slept well?" San asked him.

"Uh, yeah." Wooyoung rubbed his fingers. "Do you need help?"

"Nope," San chuckled. His tone was far too casual and playful for everything that'd taken place last night. It made Wooyoung terribly puzzled, because what if he'd imagined it all? What if he'd had some silly nightmare just like the many ones he'd had as a kid? "Just sit down, the food will come to you."

Wooyoung obeyed, drifting his gaze over to Yeosang. He began remembering all the things Seonghwa had told him about the man. They seemed real, sounded real too. But why couldn't he shake off the possibility that he'd imagined it all as well?

What was real and what wasn't? Was he having another lapse in memory?

Yeosang looked at him then, discreetly tapping on his phone screen. 'Your phone', he mouthed.

'My room', Wooyoung mouthed back, and thankfully Yeosang got the message, because Seonghwa entered soon after.

The blond's eyes found his the quickest. "Goodmorning."

"Morning," San beamed, passing a glass of red juice towards Wooyoung. He guessed it was strawberry again.

Breakfast commenced with Yunho showing up a couple minutes later, but Mingi was nowhere present. Wooyoung ate and drank what he'd been served with no complaints, only paying close attention to the 'accidental' rubs on the thigh Seonghwa would give him ever so often. They left him red in the face and flustered, every single time.

He was only able to breathe again after he was done with the food, dashing to his room so he could finally read the text Yeosang had probably sent him.

- yeosang
mingi left earlier this morning, but i was able to get a pic of the van before he went with it

- yeosang
[image attached]

- yeosang
its brown now, not black. so he most likely changed the colour

- yeosang
i also know seonghwa probably told you a few things about me

- yeosang
but don't believe him. he's a compulsive liar who loves controlling others

- yeosang
but it doesn't matter. it won't matter in a while

- wooyoung
what do you mean??

Yeosang's reply came promptly.

- yeosang
the guy's got dirt on everyone living here. why else do you think we can't leave?

Wooyoung bit his nails, extremely anxious at Yeosang's texts.

- wooyoung
so what seonghwa told me about you was true all along?

- yeosang
it doesn't matter.

- wooyoung
what do you mean it doesn't matter??

Wooyoung's body tensed, contemplating if he should just call Yeosang or meet him outside himself.

Yeosang's response never came, but Wooyoung didn't have to wait long.

"Guys!" San shouted from the hall. "Yeosang's bleeding out!"

Wooyoung didn't hesitate to race out of there, heartbeat louder than anything he'd ever heard. He didn't stop running until he came across the opening of Yeosang's room.

Yeosang was on his bed with his phone in hand, dark red blood spewing from his nose and mouth. There was so much of it.

Whiskers was nowhere to be seen.

Wooyoung didn't know he'd been screaming until San and Yunho had dragged him outside, leaving Yeosang's body with Hongjoong and Seonghwa -- who looked absolutely miserable.

"Let me go!" Wooyoung cried, trying to writhe out of their grip, but San and Yunho were too strong. "He needs help or else he'd die."

"He's already d-dead," Yunho said, his sharp and raspy voice grating the insides of Wooyoung's eardrums. He and San still had the younger caged in their arms, and it made Wooyoung want to lash out, made him want to destroy them.

"He poisoned himself. I saw the stash in the closet," San added. He sounded remorseful despite the hollowness of his expression.

Wooyoung remembered breakfast, and how little food Yeosang had eaten. He'd never drank the juice served either, only sipping on what Wooyoung had assumed was water.

He'd been drinking the poison then.

Wooyoung clawed his itching neck, wanting to tear out his skin. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He felt like he was dying.

The door slammed. Someone with fading red hair walked up to him, something clutched in their hands.

Hongjoong...?

Wooyoung gasped when a syringe plunged itself into his neck, rendering him useless in a matter of seconds.

* * *

Jongho grew more restless as the hours went by with no sign of Wooyoung around the campus. At first he'd thought the guy had fallen sick or something and couldn't make it to his classes, but he'd never once replied to his calls or text messages that day. Which was really odd and worrying, because Wooyoung always responded to his messages.

I hope he's okay, Jongho thought during lunch. He was with the rest of his friends, but he was too worried to fully engage in conversation with them.

He continued to text Wooyoung, sending him encouraging messages with cute emojis in case he was sick and was currently trying to recover.

Should I go to his apartment? Jongho asked himself after all his classes were done and dealt with.

He really didn't want to burden Wooyoung, but he was so worried, especially after all he'd discovered about Park Seonghwa.

Jongho exhaled as he stood in the student parking lot, eyeing his cousin's car keys. They gleamed under the setting sun.

what does jongho do next?

a) go back to his dorm

b) visit wooyoung

***

a/n: happy halloween!! thoughts?