beg • woosan (book 2)

28

The shrill of the alarm pierced the morning stillness, prodding Wooyoung into the realm of wakefulness. He stretched, a slow smile spreading across his face as the fog of sleep lifted, replaced by a warmth that trickled into his consciousness at the thought of San. His mind, although clear, was tinged with the remnants of a dream – elusive, yet undoubtedly pleasant, its details shrouded in mystery, but its essence centered around San.

Wooyoung's fingers danced over his phone, unlocking it to access the precious digits Mingi had provided. It was a step towards mending bridges, a gesture to solidify the peace that had been tentatively formed. He composed a message, the words lined with the softness of the morning light, and finished with a wolf emoji – a playful hint to his identity.

wooyoung: good morning are you awake? 🐺

Message sent, he swung his legs out of bed, a surge of energy fuelling his movements. As he got ready, his motions were quick but precise – a splash of water on his face to chase away the last traces of sleep, clothes chosen with care to impress but not overwhelm, a dab of cologne for a touch of sophistication.

With each button fastened and every hair swept into place, Wooyoung's excitement burgeoned. This wasn't just any brunch, it was a stepping stone to something more, a moment he hoped would be etched in the timeline of their relationship. It was a date with San, a chance to explore the potential of their bond, and Wooyoung could hardly contain the fluttering in his chest at the thought of what the day might bring.

wooyoung phone lightly hums against the surface as he receives a message. He picks up his phone to see that it was san.

San text : still using that emoji, you've haven't changed. lol

wooyoung giggles and texted san back. wooyoung: 20 years later im still rocking with the same emoji lol. '

san: lol, time flies.

woooyung: talking about time...our date, what time do you want to met.

san: i can come to you now.

wooyoung : no i'll come to you. stay right there.

Wooyoung stood in front of the mirror, straightening his shirt and smoothing down his hair. He felt good, ready. Grabbing the flowers from the nightstand, a mix of colors and scents, he left his apartment with a flutter in his chest.

Walking to San's place, the air was fresh with a breeze that tousled his hair, making him brush it back into place now and then. He could feel his palms starting to sweat. Was it the walk or the nerves?

The closer he got to San's apartment, the more butterflies danced in his stomach. He practiced what he would say in his head, but as soon as he reached the building and pressed the intercom button, it all vanished. "San-San, it's me," he said, and instantly his face warmed up. Wooyoung haven't called san that in years.

There was a short wait before San's voice came through. "Okay, i'm coming down." It was casual, easy. Wooyoung couldn't help but smile, feeling a bit silly for being so nervous. He stood there for a moment, holding the flowers and waiting for San, ready to start their day together.

San took in the fragrance of the flowers, his eyes meeting Wooyoung's with a look that said more than words ever could. "They are beautiful, Wooyoung," he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine appreciation.

A pleased, modest smile tugged at Wooyoung's lips. "I'm glad you like them," he replied, feeling a warmth spread within him as they began to descend the stairs together, their presence in sync.

"I want to show you New York today," Wooyoung shared, his voice carrying a mix of pride and excitement.

San responded not just with a nod but with an action that sent a jolt of happiness through Wooyoung — he reached out and took Wooyoung's hand. "I'm excited," San said, weaving their fingers together in a comfortable clasp.