San spent most of his morning in bed since he wasn't going to school, and for more than half of that time, he kept reading and rereading Wooyoung's texts, and then chickening out before he could reply back with something.

He felt bad about it, but he was also embarrassed due to what had happened last night. He didn't think he could handle seeing the other boy for a while.

San was tired. So, so tired. And he didn't want to eat anything even when his stomach began to grumble a few minutes in. All he did was lie on his bed and stare at nothing, the bad voices in his head roaming around and spitting heinous words that made him hate himself even more.

But then a message entered, a new one from the boy who'd been spending the most time with him lately. Just the sight of his contact name made San's heart squeeze and his stomach twist and turn.

- wooyoung
i showed up at the classes we had together so i could take the notes you missed

- wooyoung
i know, i'm awesome

- wooyoung
did you sleep well?

- wooyoung
i couldnt
cause i was too busy thinking about u

Don't have feelings for me. I can't and won't return them. Wooyoung's harsh words of yesterday seized San's mind, bringing about that familiar ache in his chest that he didn't want to get used to. It frustrated San that Wooyoung's words and actions could be so alarmingly different from each other. It irritated him, because it only led to more confusion and hurt down the road.

Don't do this to me, San thought. Stop it, I don't like it.

But still, Wooyoung continued to send him messages, oblivious to the world of emotional turmoil San was going through.

- wooyoung
i should come over after school, right?
i want to, if you don't mind

- wooyoung
i want to give you some company
is ice cream okay?
i'm getting this feeling that you haven't had anything since morning

San's grip on his phone hardened, his fingers gradually turning white from the pressure. He barely thought of anything when he sent his first text to Wooyoung since the week started.

- san
why do you care

Then San blanked out, because -- did he just send that?

- wooyoung
what do you mean?

- san
nothing

- wooyoung
??

San panicked. He really didn't want the other boy showing up, and that was because he was still reeling from shame over what had happened the other night.

- san
don't come over

San panicked again. Why did he keep sending these borderline dismissive text messages?

- wooyoung
why

- san
because i dont want you to

- wooyoung
wait
is it because of what i said
i already apologized

- san
don't fucking come over, alright

- wooyoung
huh
okay
fine

- wooyoung
alright.

San knew he'd probably pissed Wooyoung off, and of course he felt guilty about it. The guilt was eating him alive, especially when Wooyoung was only trying to be nice.

But that was part of the problem. San didn't want Wooyoung to try to be nice to him when he knew that it would only cause more unwanted feelings and situations down the road. And San was tired of feeling.

He just wanted to be left alone.

- san
im sorry

Wooyoung didn't answer.

* * *

San eventually cooped himself on the livingroom couch, a blanket wrapped around his form. He felt like some shell, with nothing tangible to do than to laze around and think negative thoughts until his eyes hurt from crying too much.

And San couldn't even understand it. He'd never cried this much in a long, long time. He'd just possibly lost a good friend because of his stupid insecurities, and once again he was on the path to being abandoned.

And it was no one's fault but his.

His phone then rang, the shrill and monotonous ringtone making the seventeen-year-old fall off the couch in a less than graceful manner.

San grabbed the phone, but was then unable to hang up because of Wooyoung's contact name that lit up through the screen.

San froze up, sharply inhaling a breath, and then picked up, bracing himself for the absolute worst.

"Hi..." San spoke first, his voice bordering on a whisper. He hated it, but there wasn't much he could do about it.

"Open the door."

"W-What?" San stuttered.

"I -- " Wooyoung paused, muttering a curse underneath his breath. The sound of ruffled bags was heard. "Open the door. My hands hurt and I don't wanna drop anything."

"Wooyoung -- " San began, but the other male beat him to it with a hurried knock on the door.

"Newsflash: you can't send me away now. I'm already here."

San wanted to be mad. He felt like he had to be mad. After all, Wooyoung showed up without his permission. But all he felt was shame coupled with a certain type of numbness. It was a strange and shitty combination.

San went and opened the door, immediately unable to look Wooyoung in the eyes. He spotted the many bags the other held in his arms, and wondered how much trouble he had bringing them all here.

Wooyoung was looking at him though. And as always, he appeared to have read San's mind. "Don't worry, I got dropped off."

San helped him with the bags of food and drinks, still struggling to meet his eyes. He cleared his throat, the aromatic smell of the food making him realize just how hungry he was. "Uhm, you didn't have to..."

"I wanted to," Wooyoung smiled, already taking a sip out one of the soda cans he brought. "Sorry for crashing in your house uninvited, but I couldn't help myself. The restaurant I went to serves amazing food, so I just had to order some."

He then plopped himself on the couch and began pulling out the servings of food, smiling impishly at a nervous San. He gestured at them afterwards. "Dig in dude, what are you waiting for?"

As soon as San sat down, Wooyoung passed him a small box of seasoned chicken. "Hey, try this out first. Delicious stuff."

"Uh, okay," San answered, before shyly taking a drumstick for himself. He took a bite, but nothing more than that since he felt observed under Wooyoung's heavy gaze.

"Why'd you stop?" Wooyoung asked. "You don't like it?"

"No, um," San cleared his throat. "You just keep staring at me..."

Wooyoung quickly looked away. "Oops, sorry. Just -- eat whatever you wanna eat. I'll watch something in the meantime. Hey, I can borrow your tv remote, right?"

San nodded. "Sure."

And thus began the long yet eventful afternoon filled with San stuffing his face with as much variety of food as he could, while catching Wooyoung staring at him from every few minutes.

"Try the noodles with those rice cakes." Wooyoung would input these suggestions from time to time, laughing out loud in amusement whenever the food drew out an approved hum from San.

Wooyoung would play a movie (horror or comedy, nothing else), and then take several sips out of his soda can, noting the types of food San appeared to favour over the others. Now, he knew San preferred seasoned chicken over fried, liked kimchi but not too much of it, wasn't too fond of vegetables and really seemed to enjoy eating the rice cakes and dumplings.

"Aren't you gonna eat something?" San questioned after he caught Wooyoung's stare again.

"Nah," Wooyoung shook his head. "Already ate. But you, however..." He suddenly leaned in, making San clam up like he was a hermit crab. "Didn't know you liked food that much. Or maybe it's because I bought it?"

San gulped. "Shut up."

Wooyoung laughed, and god was San entranced with the sight of it. Wooyoung already had a beautiful smile, but it magnified even further whenever he laughed.

"But, since you asked, okay," Wooyoung continued. He grabbed a pair of chopsticks and took a bite of chicken. "Hmm, it tastes good, just like I'd expected." He then giggled right at San, causing him to promptly look away, the tips of his ears on fire.

Do you have to make everything so obvious dumbass? San frowned at himself, having the insane urge to slap himself at that moment.

"You're okay, right?"

Wooyoung's words snapped San out of it, and when their eyes locked, San chewed on his bottom lip. "Huh?"

Wooyoung chuckled, but the look in his eyes was completely serious. "About what happened yesterday -- "

"I'm okay," San interrupted.

"...Was it because of me?"

"No."

"Well, I..." Wooyoung brought his knees up to his chest and cleared his throat. "I... stayed near you for, like, an hour after you uh, passed out. Luckily, you didn't bleed a lot."

San pushed his palms down his hair, his cheeks painted a dark pink. "Fuck," he breathed. "I'm so fucking sorry you got to see that. Gosh I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't worry, blood doesn't scare me or anything," Wooyoung assured. "It's just..." He sighed, looking conflicted.

"What? What is it?" San asked. He didn't mean to sound impatient, but something was telling him he wouldn't like what he heard next.

Wooyoung's eyebrows furrowed, and he looked so unsure. "Okay, don't freak out. But when I put you down on the bed...you had no heartbeat. I mean, I checked your pulse and everything, but there was nothing. And -- and I got so scared. It came back a few seconds later, but it still terrified me."

San's breath hitched, and he started to pick his nails. "It's nothing to get worked up about."

"But why did your heart stop?"

"...It's a condition."

"A condition that makes your heart stop totally?" Wooyoung's tone dripped with disbelief.

San looked away. "Yeah..."

"You know you can tell me anything right? I'll keep my mouth shut about it if you want me to."

"I'm not hiding anything."

Wooyoung just stared at him with that same blank expression of his that'd unnerved San when they'd barely known each other, but now that they were friends, San could see the masked hurt in his eyes.

"I acted like a complete emotionless dick for most of my childhood, getting into many fights and whatnot. Things were already rocky with my parents, and everyone at school pissed me off. I just did whatever I wanted," Wooyoung said, leaning into the couch. "Mom had enough and took me to get my behaviour checked by a psychiatrist, and it turned out I had something called Conduct Disorder. Explained a lot, but I hated the diagnosis. I couldn't do anything about it though. I had to get therapy several times from elementary school to the start of high school, and it fortunately helped calm me down for a while.

"But it just gave my dad and the rest of my family more and more reasons to dislike me," Wooyoung continued. "And I'm pretty sure that if I keep acting out, they won't hesitate to try and fix me again. Sometimes, I still struggle to understand how people feel and how to empathize with others."

"Wooyoung," San whispered, not knowing what to say. He didn't know much about Conduct Disorder, but now that the former had mentioned it, it put some of the things Wooyoung did in perspective. "I'm sorry..."

Wooyoung shook his head. "Don't. Don't say that. I just told you something I rarely tell others, and I really don't want pity. I just want you to trust me."

"I do trust you."

"Then tell me what really happened back there."

San fisted his hands over and over again, hating how clammy they felt. God, he was so nervous, but he wanted to believe Wooyoung's words. The darked haired boy said that he could trust him, and San wanted to do that.

"When my heart...stopped," San inhaled a breath, "I'd died. Whenever I bleed and blackout, I end up dying."

Wooyoung's face scrunched with mild confusion. "How?"

"The first incident took place when I was born, and the second was on my thirteenth birthday. During these times, I'm unaware of what's going on around me, and I momentarily stop breathing and then wake up minutes or even hours later. I never know when the next one will hit." San kept his voice low and steady, but even then he couldn't hide the anxiety he felt. "A-And sometimes... It affects o-others too."

This is it, he thought forlornly. Wooyoung probably thinks that you're a monster. He'll leave you, of course he will.

Wooyoung's face had grown more emotionless. "...How exactly does it affect others?"

"W-Wooyoung -- "

"San, tell me," Wooyoung pressed, something dark crossing his features. He looked at San like he was staring at someone he just met.

It scared San.

"I c-can't..."

"San, I need you to answer me truthfully."

San tightly shut his eyes, his hands beginning to shake excessively. "Wooyoung, please."

Wooyoung's next words echoed in San's mind, shattering the semblance of peaceful ignorance that San had wanted to hold on to for just a little while longer. "Do you... kill others when you die?"

San's internal system was freaking out. He didn't know how he could ever answer that question. His head hurt, and his heartbeat was livid.

But then Wooyoung was gripping his shoulder, his touches light yet absolutely unbearable. They scorched and burned all the way through San's skin, and he became afraid. "Answer the question, San."

San looked up then, reddish, tearful eyes meeting Wooyoung's piercing ones. "...Y-Yeah..."

Wooyoung let him go like he was the one being burned instead, and his eyes were wide, shocked.

San felt like he was dying again, but this time around, the pain was amplified. "Please...please don't leave me. Please."

But... Wooyoung did.

* * *

a/n: thoughts?