SING ME TO SLEEP, woosan

50

over the last three or so minutes, wooyoung has been silently observing as san's spoon purposelessly whirls around the inside of his cup of dessert. perhaps he's a creep for memorising so, but the elder has only brought the dark blue spoon up to his lips twice since his ice cream arrived — not to mention, the flavour he ordered is mint chocolate. san is a sucker for mint chocolate ice cream.

meanwhile, wooyoung has almost completely scoffed down his own: cherry jubilee, his favourite. though it could be inconsiderate of him to compare san's eating habits to his own, there's this twisted expression above his features, as if he's about to be sick, and wooyoung knows definitely that there's something wrong. 

he slides his fingers across the table, gently wrapping them around san's wrist. startled, san jumps a little, fretfully meeting wooyoung's round eyes. he forces a tight smile. "hm? what is it, wooyo?"

"sannie..." wooyoung feels his stomach churn. "sannie, are you sure you're okay here?"

san's gaze leaps from wall to wall, before it reunites with his ice cream, gradually starting to melt beneath his sight. "what do you mean?"

"san... don't." wooyoung murmurs, close to a whisper. "don't lie to me. please."

"i'm not— i-i—" an agonising crack slits through san's voice. the silence which follows is insufferable, for the both of them, and it almost feels as if the rest of their surroundings have quietened down alongside them, too.

cautiously, wooyoung slips his hand into san's. "it's okay," he says in the softest voice he can manage, holding onto the latter's fingers.

san's teeth tug at his lip, conflicted. one look at wooyoung's uneasy expression clears his smeared mind, however, reminding him that he doesn't need to hide away with the younger. he doesn't need to be afraid. so, he clears his throat with momentary, bitter laughter and the quiet question, "how... how did you know?"

"because i know you, sannie." wooyoung squeezes san's fingers. "can't believe you'd take me for that much of an idiot." lips quirking up, san smiles genuinely, strikingly differing to prior. though, he doesn't aim to verbally respond, prompting wooyoung to suggest softly, "do you wanna... get outta here?"

san sucks in a breath. then, he nods his head quickly, fraught. "if that's okay," he whispers, gaze falling once again.

wooyoung nods his head, reassuring. "i wouldn't have asked if it wasn't."

beckoning the ice cream cup from san's hold, wooyoung stacks it on top of his own, and pats the pockets of his jeans for some cash. before he's found the few 10 000 won notes he knows is stuffed in there somewhere, san makes a sound of protest, standing up from his seat. "wait, no, wooyo, i—"

"sannie—"

"wooyoung," san demands, and somehow his voice is stern and soft all at once. "i'm treating you, remember?"

"but—"

"no. i said i was treating you, and that still stands. that doesn't suddenly change just because i'm—" san's lips clamp shut, his face wincing as if he's in physical pain. he shakes his head, to himself, wooyoung assumes, before leaving a few bills at the table. when san returns to the younger's direction, his eyes are glazed with tears.

wooyoung's mouth opens. yet, he's overtaken, "we— we're still leaving... right?"

wooyoung smiles amidst the dimmed light within him, a half-hearted attempt for san. "yeah. yeah, let's go."

wooyoung's hand seeking san's shoulder, the shop bell tinkles from above, signifying their exit. it seems to have gotten warmer since they were at the park; the projection of the sun is fiercer and brighter, wooyoung needing to screw his eyes to get a better look at san. "where's our destination, sannie?"