beg • woosan (book 2)

20

i had up to chapter 22 done last week but i hated it so i end up rewriting chapter 20 (7 times) and decided a new turn for the story. tw: mental health!
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The ambient sound of shuffling feet and the rhythmic tapping of toes against the hardwood floor filled the dance studio, blending seamlessly with the pulsating beats of the music that cascaded from the speakers. Wooyoung, standing at the forefront of the mirrored room, was the embodiment of focus and passion. With each count, his voice rose above the music, a steady metronome guiding his students through the intricate dance routine. "Five, six, seven, eight!" he called out, his movements flowing like water, every step a testament to years of dedication.

As the last note of the song faded into a quiet hush, Wooyoung's voice took center stage, "Clap for yourself!" His smile was infectious, a rare gem that had been hidden away for too long, now shining brightly as he watched his class mirror his enthusiasm, their hands coming together in a chorus of applause. They had come far, their hard work blossoming into a performance that promised to be the highlight of the spring opening show, now just days away.

The energy in the room shifted as the dancers dispersed towards the locker room, the air now filled with laughter and light-hearted chatter. Wooyoung, lingering a moment longer to savor the success of the rehearsal, noticed the influx of parents and friends gathering to collect their stars of the show. Among the familiar faces, one stood out, and it wasn't one he had expected to see today.

"Hendery, what are you doing here?" Wooyoung's eyebrows knitted together in a mix of surprise and confusion.

The unexpected visitor, Hendery, offered a smile that held a hint of nervousness as he presented a single rose,  "I know this might be bad," he began, but Wooyoung's attention was already shifting, pulled away by the sight of San by the door, his gaze heavy with an emotion that couldn't be read at a glance.

"You're right, it's not the time," Wooyoung replied hastily, brushing past Hendery without taking the rose, his steps leading him to San. Who stood in the corner annoyed looking.

The tension between Wooyoung and San was noticeable , the air charged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. "You're done talking to your boy toy?" San's question was a sharp jab, but Wooyoung's reaction was swift, his hand reaching out to redirect the conversation to a place away from prying eyes and ears.

"I don't know why he's here," Wooyoung confessed once they were out of earshot of the classroom, his voice a mixture of frustration and a plea for understanding.

San's words, laced with hurt and confusion, revealed a miscommunication that had wedged itself between them. "Yunho said you never wanted to talk to me," he said, but Wooyoung was quick to correct that assumption.

"That's not true," he insisted,"i was hurt."

"You're so insecure." san says, and wooyoung nods.

The silence of the room was present , every breath and heartbeat amplified in the space between them. Wooyoung's eyes, usually so full of commanding presence, now held a vulnerability that he seldom allowed others to see. "I can't help it," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, his confession hanging heavy in the air. "Especially when I know I don't deserve you."

San simply stared, his chest tight with emotions he couldn't articulate. Wooyoung's admission had struck a chord, yet the right words to respond with eluded him. Seeing the struggle in San's eyes, Wooyoung raised his hand, waving it slightly, a silent surrender to the moment. "You don't need to comment," he said, his voice steady but his eyes betraying the plea for understanding.

But San, moved by an impulse he didn't fully comprehend, reached out and clasped Wooyoung's hand, grounding them both in the reality of their shared history. "You avoid me because you know you don't deserve me," he admitted to himself more than to Wooyoung, who could only nod in acquiescence.