MISSING, jongsang

22 ; the confrontation

"yeosangie... are you okay?"

nodding his head hastily, yeosang forced a smile at san, who must've noticed his panicked state. "yeah, of course, why wouldn't i be?" yeosang laughed as a cover up, hand, which clutched the now scrunched up piece of paper, behind his back. "erm, i need jongho for a minute, will you be alright on your own?"

the second yeosang spoke those words, he was already aiming for the bathroom door, despite not having received an answer yet.

"mhm, i'll be fine, don' wor—"

as soon as san's words met yeosang's ears, he barged into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him once he'd squeezed in, which in turn muffled the remainder of the pear-haired's sentence. yeosang's spiralled mind humiliatingly caused him to forget about what he could possibly face, however jongho was thankfully by the sink already; washing his hands, his eyes lit up in surprise at the abrupt shadow that had joined him.

"s-sang? what are you—"

"j-jongho..." yeosang whispered, finally allowing his overwhelmed tears to rush down his cheeks.

mouth falling open slightly, jongho hurriedly twisted the tap shut and by the next second, he was standing directly opposite the older. "hey, what's the matter, hm? what's wrong, sang?"

"i-i- it's san, h-he—" that was all yeosang managed to stammer out, fists clutching into the material of jongho's shirt, as he loudly sobbed onto his chest.

carefully, jongho wrapped his arms around yeosang's shaking figure, rubbing his back in a soothing manner. and even though he was having trouble recognising what was up, he did all that was possible to comfort the latter. "it's okay, yeah? let it out, sang, it's okay... i've got you, don't worry, i'm right here..."

taking jongho aback, yeosang suddenly loosened his tight grip on his damp clothes, finding one of the younger's hands before roughly placing the note into his palm.

jongho hesitated in confusion. "what's this, pretty?"

jongho's questioning eyes looking down at him, yeosang shook his head — words incapable of leaving his throat, no matter how hard he tried. therefore, he instead whispered a mere, "r-read it."

yeosang cowering into his shoulder, jongho ran a comforting hand through his hair, before doing as he had asked. unfolding the piece of paper with care, his eyes briskly skimmed through the words scribbled onto it, the elder not failing to notice how jongho's expression disheartened within the span of a second.

"w-what..." jongho turned to yeosang, softly insisting, "i really need you to talk to me now, sang, where did yo—"

"san," yeosang whispered, his blank stare burning into the wall tiles, knowing exactly what jongho wanted to ask. "he-he... he asked me to sharpen one of his pencils. i-i obviously didn't think anything of it, but a-after that happened, that paper was in my pocket... it has to be him, th-there's no way it isn't—" 

"hey, don't worry, i believe you," jongho interrupted yeosang to assure. "you wouldn't lie to me, especially about something this personal, i know that. and honestly... i've always had a bad feeling about him."

sniffling as he teared up once again, yeosang leant his back onto the wall behind him, eyes fluttering shut wearily. "why can't everything just go back to normal?" he whispered, voice breaking pathetically. vision blurring into splotches of colours as tears overcame yeosang's eyes once again, a pair of arms met the curve of his hips, blanketing around them securely. and yeosang had never felt so safe, so protected, like he did in that moment.