Fifteen

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It's been 3 days since then and Wooyoung resembled a corpse. With hollow, swollen eyes and barely any appetite. He didn't speak a word unless absolutely necessary.

Even now, he stabbed the meat with his fork as his eyes watered again for the thousandth time that day. San looked at the younger and looked away.

The Queen chatted cheerfully with her husband and Wooyoung's half brothers kept quite, sensing the depressing mood of their brother.

"Wooyoung, eat your food and stop sulking over it. Being sad is not going to bring her back. You are tarnishing everyone's mood here."
The king ordered sharply, glaring at the mentioned boy.

Wooyoung looked up with bloodshot eyes, staring at his father with wide, distressed eyes.
San saw his hands clenched into fists under his table.

"Do you not care? DO YOU NOT FEEL THE SLIGHTEST REGRET?" Wooyoung suddenly cried, standing up swiftly sending the chair crashing behind him. Everyone looked at him with wide eyes as he glowered at the King of Amaris.

"Did you not realize you were hurting her everyday? Or you knew, yet you continued treating her like trash. She-"

"Wooyoung stop! This is not how will talk to your father." The Queen raised her voice, shooting daggers at the young prince.

"You won't tell me what to do. You are not my mother, so stop acting like one." He shot back.
The king looked surprisingly calm and even had a taunting smile on his face but Wooyoung knew better. He saw the beginnings of a storm whirling in his eyes. He gulped. He knew that look very well.

He could not back down now. The damage was done.

"She loved you father." He whispered tenderly as he felt the familiar wetness gather in his eyes.
"Even when you treated her like a nobody she loved you more than you could even imagine."
He choked back a sob. His chest began to hurt as he looked at the uninterested look on his father's face.

"Aren't I your son too?" He murmured quietly as a tear descended from his eyes. When he got no response whatsoever, he rushed outside the dining hall, leaving everyone at the table flabbergasted.

San looked around awkwardly before jumping up and following Wooyoung.

He ran behind the younger to his room before he could shut the door in his face.

"What are you doing here? Go and eat." Wooyoung mumbled wiping his tears.

San leaned on the door and crossed his arms, feigning nonchalance.
"I am not hungry." He simply said.

Wooyoung raised a skeptical eyebrow, eyeing the taller up and down.

"Why are you lying? I saw you inhaling the food down there."

San cleared his throat and stoop up straight.

"It's called appreciating the food the way it deserves to be appreciated." He says, horribly mimicking the younger.

To his surprise, Wooyoung laughed. He threw his head back and laughed. And San's breath got caught in his throat again as he watched the dark haired boy smile.

San squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. He was sick. He definitely was.

He pushed past Wooyoung and into the bedroom and laid down on the bed, keeping a subtle eye on the younger.

San gulped, turning his back to Wooyoung and frowning at the strange reaction of his heart.

No. Whatever this is, shouldn't happen again.
Absolutely not.

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