ur uncles side bitches
me
guys?
could one of yall come to the stud/
kev
hello is it important bff?
jacob
if it's ab sibger boy we're not avaikable
me
could one of yall/
could/
oh r u busy??
kev
i mean we're in an uber on the way to yk that cafe?? the one by that creepy ass park???
me
yeah yeah ik
that's pretty far tho so it's fine
kev
do u need us? we can turn around if u need
me
oh no no it's alr
was just wondering when you'd be back
jacob
awh is lil woo sxared to be home aline 🥺
me
aren't u scared of the dark??
exactly
kev
soon woo dw
def before midnight!
me
oh
alr i'll see u then
kev
u sure everything's okay??
me
mhm
have fun :))
seen
###
tugging at the ends of his hair, wooyoung switches off his phone, yet remains clutching onto it, simply for stability over himself. he feels as if he's seconds away from passing out — everything is so stuffy and he wonders momentarily if maybe a breath of fresh air would do the trick, until he notices his fingers beginning to tremble against the device in between them.
it's never gotten this bad before. usually wooyoung would feel a little dizzy and sometimes even nauseous, which he blames on the haunting images patronisingly refusing to leave his mind, but even with that, a few sips of water and distractions from his friends would be easily enough to help recompose himself.
this time round, however, wooyoung ponders if maybe he pushed himself too far. maybe getting back on his two feet again and again and again, and trying and trying and trying, despite falling over countless times, despite barely being able to recognise his surroundings, despite sobbing on his knees for the sounds to come to a stop, wasn't as rewarding as it once seemed.
at least he did it, though, right?
at least he managed to fight the battle against himself, and dance to his heart's will.
wooyoung should be happy about it. he's spent months enduring the same thing over and over, he's tried so hard, so why isn't he?
why isn't he happy with himself?
breath only shallowing as seconds go by, as if the oxygen in the silent void before him is being sucked away from his reach, wooyoung finds himself switching his phone on again.
he doesn't know what's running through his mind, or if there's even anything up there to begin with, when his shaky fingers start to move. and he isn't even sure of how he has the capability to type in a coherent word, but he manages, somehow.
YOU ARE READING
SING ME TO SLEEP, woosan
Fanfiction"... sing to me? what- like, sing me to sleep?" "unless that's too corny for you, that's exactly what i'm offering." in which jung wooyoung suffers with insomnia and relies on an anonymous singer on instagram to make his nights a little less lonely...
