IT'S MAGIC!, woosan

17 • awkward dinners!

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Wooyoung

I'm downright panicking, and it's something I have absolutely no control over. I try to keep a calm head and think things through as to where San could have gone -- or why he's suddenly disappeared and even isn't picking up my calls, but all I get is frenzied thoughts and emotions that're running haywire. I feel like I might faint.

I stare at the device in my hand, knuckles nearly pale with how tightly I'm squeezing it. Before I have the chance to foolishly crack the screen due to the brute force I'm exerting, I inhale a deep sigh and call San again.

Pick up, pick up, pick up --

My heart drops when the call goes unanswered yet again.

Frustrated, I hurl the phone on my bed and clamber over to where the Wish Ball lays, nerves reaching an all time high. It's risky using the ball for wishes that can seemingly be solved easily, but San is missing, and I need to fucking find him without having to waste any time sifting through dusty magic books for an identification spell.

Grabbing my wand from the first drawer, I push it into the space provided on the Wish Ball, hoping with all my might that this wish works out. The blooming fog around it turns an enchanting blue.

I know I might just be overreacting -- or maybe I'm just being too overprotective because San could just be outside going on a walk or getting something for himself -- but with everything going on with that Demon possession thing and that Jang Kangmin guy, all I can feel is an unmistakable dread. I'm so sick with worry that I feel close to throwing up.

Inhaling another huge breath to steady my speeding heartrate, I focus on nothing else than the thought of San, wanting more than anything for the Wish Ball to grant my request.

"I Wish..." I gulp, leveling my tone and making sure I'm calm so it won't affect the quality of the wish. "I Wish to know where Choi San is."

I clench my eyes shut, my heartbeat thumping erratically inside my eardrums the second those words leave my lips. I'm back to freaking out again, the voices in my head going awry.

I finally gain the courage to open my eyes just as a cool gust of wind suddenly hits the exposed parts of my feet, almost freezing it over. I yelp at the cold sensation, collapsing onto my bed in fright as the Wish Ball exudes an emerald ring of light, the room temperature descending so low it may as well have been Antarctica. 

"Fuck," I can't help but swear. I quickly ignore how embarrassing my reaction is to the ball working when it scatters an image of something into the sky. It reminds me of an hologram of some sort, and it clears up, blurs growing sharper around the edges, I make out a recognizable bent figure perched at the end of an hall speckled with rubies, tapestries and tall ceilings, their hand clutched to a phone.