Make me wanna live | Woosan (English version)

Nightmares

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Warning --> panic attack

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"You have to eat, San. You didn't have dinner last night."

"I really don't feel like it..."

"Please, I'll make you whatever you want, but eat something..."

San looked at Wooyoung, exasperated. When he saw his sincerely worried expression, however, the annoyance he felt vanished into thin air. "...kimchi stew..."

"At your command!" said Wooyoung, rushing into the kitchen.

San sat down at the table, losing himself in his own thoughts again. It really felt like living what happened two years earlier all over again. He was sure those notes would start appearing everywhere, even at the agency and wherever else he went.

At one point he found a steaming bowl of soup under his nose. Not wanting to argue with Wooyoung, he immediately took a spoonful. He felt his eyes burn with nostalgia. It tasted exactly the same as the one his mother used to make.

"What's the matter? You don't like it??" asked Wooyoung, alarmed by his reaction.

"...No, I like it very much. Thank you..."

Wooyoung, reassured, began to eat in turn, slurping soundly the soup in a way that made San smile. The singer found himself looking at him as if it were the first time he had seen him. The pronounced jawline, the full lips, the blond hair falling messily over his eyes...it was the first time he paid attention to it, but...he was really good looking. Maybe a little short, but still handsome. Also, unlike Kai, who possessed that sophisticated and unreachable charm, Wooyoung seemed to scream home, familiarity, simplicity. He had a peculiar charm of his own.

But what was he thinking? San lowered his gaze back to the soup, feeling his face on fire.

"Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You are red in the face, is it too spicy?"

He didn't miss a thing! San would have buried himself. "No, it's perfect, but I actually feel a little hot..."

Wooyoung poured him some water, then resumed enjoying the soup.

As soon as he had finished eating, San felt his eyelids heavy. Whenever something happened that destabilized him, he felt tremendously sleepy. It was probably a defense of his body to close itself off to certain situations. Noting that he was struggling to keep his eyes open, Wooyoung took the plate from in front of him, intimating that he should go to sleep.

San did not need to be told twice. He got up, going to the bathroom dragging his feet. He looked at himself in the mirror. The neon light from the mirror that night was particularly inclement on him. It made him look deathly pale, with deep circles under his eyes. San wondered what his fans found so beautiful about him. He rinsed his face, brushed his teeth and went to his room after saying goodnight to Wooyoung, who was filling the dishwasher. San could not help but think that he seemed to have lived there forever.

As soon as San laid his head on the pillow, he instantly fell asleep.

However, he found himself imprisoned in a nightmare.

He was walking out of his apartment to get a breath of fresh air. It was finally autumn, his favorite season. Everything seemed to be going well when suddenly he felt himself being yanked by the arm. His back was pressed against a foreign body, and his mouth was covered by a sweaty hand that reeked of smoke. He tried to get free, but the more he flailed, the more those arms clutched him, beginning to obstruct his breathing, sending him into a panic. He tried to scream, but there was no one around, and his voice seemed to have deserted him. He felt himself being pressed against a car, that man was trying with difficulty to open the door without letting him go. San was terrified and his vision was beginning to blur from the lack of oxygen...