perhaps, you | woosan

Chapter Sixteen

POV: San

Their first encounter was nothing out of the ordinary; a classmate in high school who San had to share a textbook with in that one class, only because he was sitting next to him. He could still remember how Yunho smiled bashfully, stroking the back of his neck, asking for permission to share a book, on the first day of class—a memory San wanted to erase so painfully yet decided to stay there stubbornly.

The natural born cheerfulness and dorkiness of him was hard to dislike, and in no time he was the popular kid in class, partially in the grade, too. His laugh was infectious, and San found himself smiling more and more around him, as though he found a beacon of light had seeped in through his confined dark cell.

Yet as he tried to crawl towards the light, towards the exit, a black claw latched on his ankle that never let him go. A deep shrill voice whispered; You can never like Yunho. It is wrong.

"A group of us is going bowling this Sunday. Why don't you come?"

One day in school, Yunho asked San. After his confession to his mother, he was to report his every activity to her. She'd only allow going out with a friend if there was a female figure in the group, which was daunting. Added with the therapy sessions occupying his time, it was only natural he had grown distant from his friends.

"I can't...I have to go to church," San mumbled.

"Didn't know you were a church boy," Yunho blinked, amused to hear something new about San. "After that? We could hang out."

"I need to go somewhere else...."

"Where?"

He contemplated for a second before he murmured, "...therapy."

It was such a hushed tone as though a sound of mosquito flying, but Yunho seemed to be keen on every single detail of San.

"Therapy?" He prompted, expecting further details to follow, but that was all about San was going to expose as he sealed his lips tightly. Yunho figured, and opened his mouth instead.

"We can hang out after that if you want. I just want to see you."

San's heart did not know how to rest when Yunho was around, and it seemed worse today. He wondered why he was so interested in him. No matter how one far fetched, the current him couldn't be called cheerful or fun to be around, he knew how he was carrying a depressed and dreary air. With Yunho's circle of friends, he could be around anyone who was at the top of the pyramid, and yet San had witnessed Yunho declining those top tier's offers to stay with him a couple of times. He truly had no clue what he was expecting from him—only he somehow felt Yunho's soft gaze stuck with him whenever he laughed, San never wanted to acknowledge.

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If anyone were to walk behind San, they'd bump into his back, overtake him while spitting a curse word or two. The boy was walking incredibly fast one moment, the next moment standing still like a rock, and also stepping back slightly at some point. If anyone were to overtake him and see his face, they'd practically see 'messed' written all over his face displayed by his furrowed eyebrows and his teeth lightly biting on his finger.

Yunho texted him saying he'd be waiting for him in the nearby park. He also added there was something he wanted to tell him. According to adults teaching, he probably wasn't supposed to meet Yunho, especially when his heart was rocking like a boat in the middle of the ocean. But he probably had already made up his mind when he decided to end the therapy quicker than usual, by not giving the therapist a word.

Yunho was there; in the park, tossing a rugged basketball to the ring. The sky was getting dimmer, painted in hue of orange, a shade brighter than the old grimy ball. Standing at a distance, San admired the tall boy casted under orange light, his face rosier than usual from the activity.

"San!" he noticed the other immediately and approached, throwing the ball away.

"Whose ball is that?"

"I just found it there," he shrugged.

Sitting on the swing, San swayed his legs slightly and asked the boy standing next to him, helping the motion. "You wanted to talk?"

"Mn," Yunho nodded hesitantly. Jung Yunho was a bright person who was always clear to the point, and it wasn't usual to see him giving a vague reaction. This side of him was enough to make San nervous. He waited. He patiently waited. Truth be told, it was more like his throat was squeezed that he couldn't utter a word.

Almost when San forgot how to breathe normally, Yunho finally breathed out.

"I like you."

San felt his heart stop. He swallowed once, then attempted to ease his breath before he could faintly reply, "I like you too...you're a good friend."

"No, San," Yunho hushed. San's instant thought was that he shouldn't be listening to whatever he was going to say. He knew those words would easily break the chain that kept him leashed to the sane place, that his mother so desperately wished. That the priest and therapist demanded him to stay. But he couldn't move as if he was stoned there.

"I like you in a way I want to touch you. In a way I want to kiss you. In a way I want your eyes to reflect only me."