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itstheghostofmypast · 2 days

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Lime Milkshake

Non-Idol Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: Love is not a feeling that comes without a cost, a give-and-take relationship that flourishes if both ends of the line meet at a pleasant frequency. Choi San had yet to understand that concept, especially when he deemed himself to be unworthy of love, in all its forms.

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 5.1k

Est Read Time: 25 minutes

Warnings: past relationship trauma, language, ghosting (it triggers me so yes)

Rating: PG-13

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @san-network

Banner: @cafekitsune

Fate had never been fair, not with anyone who ever dared to dance with it, and luck was often watching from the sidelines, that's exactly how he felt when he saw her walk in with another man that day, watching the way she laughed at something the stranger had said to her- whispered to her, leaning closer to her, who knew the girl he had given his heart to was busy fooling around with it. That day he had stomped out of the shop, making sure to walk past her, feeling her body tense up, breath hitch and eyes widen as she turned her head to face him, locking her panicked orbs with his cold, hard ones-, a look she had never been a victim to before. That was the last time he had seen her, spoken to her, responded to her texts or even made the effort to open the door.

The thing about love is that it leaves a mark, an imprint that one may either wear proudly or cover with shame. She wasn't the first person he had been with, no, he had been in a few other situationships- unfortunately, she wasn't a situationship, she was a relationship, much like his previous ex- the one who had cheated on him with his own best friend, ironically his best friend was unaware of the relationship. He never thought that one night he'd visit her apartment, to surprise her, a day before his birthday, that he wanted to celebrate with his lover, his Bora, his angel, and find none other than Jung Wooyoung with her on her bed. It took Wooyoung four days to force San out of his room and another six for him to actually communicate with him, Bora was already out of the story, someone who didn't even bother calling back San or trying to reach out to him. That day Wooyoung had seen his best friend implode, keeping it in more than his introverted self ever did before, he was shy by nature and was one to put up a strong front to match his physical presence (the current big mountainous one) the old Sannie was as fragile as his porcelain heart, the recent development however was the addition of his nonchalance followed by his tactic to ignore the situation. The younger man had practically broken into his apartment to talk to him, only to find him mindlessly scrolling on his phone, he sat beside him, trying to talk to him but what he had received was a step ahead of the silent treatment- it was as if he was invisible like he wasn't even there. To get a reaction when Wooyoung had snatched it out of his hand and flung it across the room, the man simply grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, mumbling to himself about some movie- it was only two hours in of him sitting with Wooyoung in silence when his head whipped in the direction of his friend, at the sound of a broken sob, he'd never seen Wooyoung cry, let alone sob like that. It was after that when the two finally talked it out, how Wooyoung explained how he never knew San was in a relationship with Bora, and perhaps San shouldn't have hidden his relationship with her if he truly loved her, even if she had asked for it, he should've at least kept him in the loop.

He did thus keep him in the loop, for one fine afternoon Wooyoung had received a text from San, while he was busy cleaning at home,

"It's over, don't meet her anymore, she's just like her."

Her- two years had passed and she still haunted his best friend, keeping him awake at night until he met someone else, Wooyoung was glad he had, for once San had met someone different, someone who would pull out San from the bubble he hid in, she was honest but careful with her words which Wooyoung had noticed, the two had met at a 7-Eleven at midnight, buying a lime milkshake and bonding over how disgusting of a midnight snack that was- though San had told him how she had done most of the talking, even while he walked her home she was talking, they had exchanged numbers because she had suggested becoming "mid-night snack buddies"- initially Woo thought she meant that sexually, but ironically she didn't, there was no other implication, but honest words of sincerity, a range of snacks were exchanged and shared and slowly San had begun to fall again, only this time he knew his mountain of a friend would fall into her arms and she'd catch him. Or so he thought, the text itself was something that had scared him, as soon as he read it, he was quick to leave his home to his friend's side, only to find her at his door, crying and asking for his help. Initially, he had thought she was no different, just as San had suggested, but it occurred to him how Bora had never cried like this, never tried to fight for San- if she truly was different then she would try no matter what, which is why he had decided to stay out of the matter, only advising her to "Don't give up on him." San, at the realisation that this was Wooyoung's advice, was, to say the least, enraged. His now ex would be at his door all the time, he blocked her number and email address, and made sure she couldn't find him on social media, at one point she began to show up at his door, knocking, gently calling him out, "Sannie, please I- I don't know what I've done, but please listen to me or at least talk to me." He'd ignore her diligently, making sure to leave a message, of how he didn't want her, how she was like her, how she was no different and how he was not someone to play around with. This went on for months, five to be exact, not that he was counting, she came to his door whenever she knew he was home from work, gently knocking on the door, "Hey... it's me, I just wanna talk." "Sannie, please, please just tell me what I did wrong?" "I hope you're taking care of yourself..." "Hey...Wooyoung told me about her...I'm not her San, I'm not Bora-"That was the last time he had heard from her, that night, he had almost opened the door, instead opting to lean his forehead against it, listening to her laboured breathing, "I- I don't know why you think I'd ever do that to you...I don't even know what I did to trigger this- please San, I know you're there. I know you can hear me- everyone in this building thinks I'm insane, like I'm a lunatic- I don't care about that but San I- please don't ghost me like that, don't pretend I never existed....just open the door...if you won't I..." he had heard the way her voice had cracked, his own resolve had begun to crack as well, but when he closed his eyes to keep the waterworks at bay, the image that flashed in front of his eyes was not hers- it was of the one who did this to him, he was so distracted by the face of his ex that he had almost missed her final call, "I won't bother you anymore."

It wasn't fair how all he asked was for true love, yet he was given something bitter as this every time he received any, it was unfair how he'd still cling to the memories, onto the habits and the little activities, only to make himself feel better, to feel whole again. It wasn't fair how he was now climbing down the damp, slippery stairs, on his way to have a disgusting, cold, unworthy lime milkshake. It took him a while to come out of the habits he had developed with Bora, but now that he thinks about it, those comprised of usually pleasing his ex, it was different with her, she'd usually look for a middle ground. Scoffing to himself he stuffed his hands in his jacket, what did it matter, he hadn't heard from her since that night, he hadn't heard from her for almost a year, she was no different, at the end it was only-

"Ah!"

His ears picked up a loud thump, followed by the sound of things clattering around, a pained cry had him focusing on a crouched figure, leaning against the wall almost at the base of the stairs- oh no, they must've slipped. Making his way quickly, but carefully down the remaining concrete steps he clicked his tongue at the figure, a woman, "Miss, are you okay?" He asked as she watched her gripping her ankle, and let out a shaky breath, she couldn't hear him. Moving closer he tapped her shoulder, "Miss, do you need.... help..." his words died down as his eyes locked with a familiar misty pair, which widened upon a sudden realisation. Honestly, she was quicker than him, shaking her head and mumbling an, "I'm fine", before trying to reach for her bag and its fallen contents hastily, not sparing him a glance.

Did she change her hair?

Did he change his hair?

Her mind raced with a thousand questions, but she didn't listen to any, quickly trying to stuff whatever she had dropped, back in her bag, her keys, her wallet, her perfume, and her…her phone? A gasp escaped her as she continued to frantically look around, hands slapping against the dimly lit stairs, cringing at the wet dirt that stuck to her palm.

He watched her silently, frozen in the spot as he tried to process what had just happened, how did he not notice her walking before him? He hadn't noticed anyone at all, why was she out at this hour? It was still drizzling a bit; it was cold and- since when did she wear wide-legged pants? Sandals in the rain? His ear picked up her little gasp, picking up her little "Where's my phone...", he saw the glint of the device on two steps below, making his way around her to go down quietly.

She felt his gaze on her, somewhat humiliated, somewhat angry and truly upset. Why was he not helping her? Was he just going to stand there and watch? The San she knew wasn't like this, he was cold-hearted- she saw him crouch down to grab something, her phone- shit- the screen lit up, reflecting off his eyes that had widened for a split second before he closed them, letting out a sigh and locking the screen.

He picked up her phone, pushing the lock button to check the damage, only for his breath to hitch at the sight of her wallpaper, it was the first couple picture they had taken together, one she had coaxed him into after three months of being together;

"Don't worry, it won't have your face or mine." "I... how?" "Watch, just stop walking." She instructed as he stood still, still carrying her on his back, this was a habit that developed when she'd come to the store after leaving work way later than she had imagined, which is why walking back was a bother, so he had brought up this suggestion, "You're wearing trousers anyway." Regardless of how worried she was, he held her with ease, carrying her up the same steps they were now on.

This picture was a shadow of the two, with her on his back, this was the picture she had as her wallpaper when they were dating as well- a year ago. He walked over to her, looking at her face, trying to read through her turmoil, something twisting within him as she stared up at him for a split second before looking away, the familiar words ringing in his ears, "I'm not Bora."

She looked away from his face, chewing on her lower lip, almost ashamed that he had caught her like this, that he had found out how she still hadn't moved on, as she tried to move her leg, only to wince, eying the reddened ankle swelling as the now tight strap of her sandal pressed against the skin.

Crouching down he slipped her phone into her back before gently pulling it out of her hand, turning around before she could protest as he stood there, facing ahead, pondering for a moment, before sitting down on the step after hers, quietly waiting for her to understand the signal.

"I- I'm fine, I can walk-"

He sighed, turning around to look at her with a frown, "You can't walk."

"I don't need your help," she looked away, slowly trying to stand up as she braced herself for the pain, only for him to grab onto her arm and move it around his shoulder, manoeuvring so she had to cling onto him when he stood up at full height, arms wrapping around his neck as he hooked his arms under knees.

"No, you do need my help. You don't want my help." He sighed, as he slowly started making his way down the last step, walking down the pathway, ignoring how she let out a shaky breath, her fingers digging into his cotton shirt when he took a quick step, the jerk causing her to wince, making him mumble a small "Sorry."

"It's okay..." she whispered, her warm breath against his neck causing him to shiver, as he cleared his throat to distract himself, before asking her the real question, "Where were you headed?"

"...7/Eleven."

He stopped walking.

"Oh."

"Yeah..."

"Why?"

"I think you know why."

That's how the two found themselves sitting on the footpath, grimacing at the weird taste of the lime milkshake, watching the once-in-a-blue-moon car pass by, her bag in between them. She didn't know he had finished before her, but he had stood up and walked back inside the shop, causing her to turn her upper body to look at him walk inside, he'd grown prettier since the last time she saw him- well he was always pretty- she quickly turned back when he came outside with a paper bag in hand, trying to act casual, only that failed when he crouched down in front of her reaching for her ankle, "ITS OKAY-"

Clicking his tongue, he glanced up at her, narrowing his eyes when she cleared her throat, letting him have a look. Folding up the wide end of her pant leg he frowned, "This is bad..." he mumbled, undoing her sandal buckle with deft fingers, watching the imprint in the swollen, pink skin, "Since when did you where such pants?"

"I was trying something new." She sighed, placing the empty bottle of her shake next to her, reaching for her ankle, "I-I'll put some ice on it, it's fine."

"Why did you do it?"

His question caught her off guard, causing her to look at him all confused for a second, before pouting "Wear...sandals? Cause they matched-"

"Cheat on me."

"What?" She frowned, "I didn't cheat on you- San, I understand that lady hurt you, but I'm not her and if you weren't ready to move on, you should've said so." She scoffed, amused and angered by the fact that she had been crying each night for a man, who couldn't see past his ex, what was she? Some form of comfort cushion for him to use when he'd miss his ex?

"Then" he placed his hand on her ankle, gently massaging it, though he narrowed his eyes, glaring at her, a contrast between the way he looked at her and the way he was touching her ankle, "Who was that guy? At the cafe? You don't think I noticed how he was whispering to you?"

Reaching forward she slapped his hand, hard, only for her palm to hit her own ankle in the process, hissing in pain as she looked at him tear-eyed.

"OW- WHY WOULD YOU- ARE U MAD?" He yelled, pushing her hand away as he tenderly ran his thumb over the bluish skin, "Why would you hit your own bruise?" He sighed, before pulling out an ointment from the paper bag with his other hand, ignoring the way she was glaring at him, maybe she did lose her mind when they broke it off.

He had begun massaging the ointment on her ankle, not looking at her, though he could feel her glaring daggers at him, watching him work on her, and for some reason, though he didn't care, he didn't mind. It was as if the voice inside of him was berating him, scolding him for letting his insecurities get the best of him, pushing away the only person who had accepted to glue back the shattered pieces of his heart, promising to place in pieces of hers in the cracks that were left by missing pieces.

"I hate you."

His hands paused, one holding her ankle and his other hand holding the gauze, not an ounce in him wanted to look at her, wanted to see the hurt that swirled in her eyes, her words hung in the air, still as the mist on a cold bitter morning, perhaps such as this one, it was already past midnight. Clearing his throat, he continued his work as if nothing had happened, not daring to look up at her. Once he was done, he inspected his work before standing up, ignoring how her head followed his movements, still looking up at him, as if waiting for an answer, though he had nothing to give her, she hadn’t answered his question as well, she had only rejected the accusation. He grabbed her sandals in one hand and slung her bag over his shoulder before turning around and crouching down once more, the expanse of his back at her view, making her scoff, but she slowly got on, mumbling an ‘I still hate you.’

He had been making his way up the steps when he began to feel her tighten her arms around his neck, ignoring her for a minute or two, maybe she was scared she’d fall, so he let it be. That is until it became a bit too difficult for him to breathe for which he wheezed out,

“I can’t breathe.”

She let out a small gasp, “Aww…really?” before her grip tightened causing him to stop on a step, coughing out her name.

“That’s how I felt EVERY NIGHT when you IGNORED ME!”

Her grip loosened to its usual strength as he coughed for air, one of his hands flat against the wall as he tried to steady himself, letting go of her uninjured leg, feeling it wrap around him, wiping away a bit of drool with the back of his hand he hissed in anger, “You still haven’t told me who he was? What do you take me for-

“AN IDIOT, I TAKE YOU FOR AN IDIOT!”

“WHAT?” turning his head to glare at her, he frowned as she leaned over his shoulder to glare back with the same intensity, the volume of their voices wasn’t helping either, if anyone were to see them they’d probably call the cops, though that didn’t stop him from finally blowing up, letting out everything he should have the first time she came over to apologise, “WHY? WHY AM I THE IDIOT WHEN ALL I DID WAS WAIT FOR YOU AT THE CAFÉ LIKE YOU ASKED ME TO? AND THEN YOU BRING OVER SOME GUY AND-

“HE WAS THE F*CKING REAL ESTATE AGENT AND HE IS GAY!”

Just like the previous statement she had bombarded him with, her words hung in the air around them once more, the only sound that was evident to the ear was their heavy breaths, though he could see the way her ears had turned pink, not from the cold nipping at her but the anger that he had caused to run through her veins, “I- I can’t believe you, you walked out on me, you never let me explain and- and all I wanted to do was to surprise you with an apartment we could share.” She sighed, slowly letting go of him, causing him to panic, though she pulled back holding the handrail, “Just give me my stuff, thanks for today, just pretend none of this happened, you’re good at that anyway.”

Turning around to look at her he watched her reach for her bag that he was still holding onto, only for him to pull away, biting his lip to hold back the flood of emotions, especially when she looked up at him all exhausted, “I really did think Wooyoung was right, that you’d give me a chance but- I, I don’t think you were ready for something new and-

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, catching her off guard, eyes widening at the way he looked down at his shoes, holding onto her purse like it was his own, or perhaps he was holding onto something that was hers, the only piece that was not taken away, much like the memories of her, of how she loved him through the darkest patches of his life, how she spent time peeling away each layer with delicate movements, how she spent most of her time trying to understand him, how she’d be there with her melody, trying to soothe his aching soul, only for him to toss her out when the voices inside became so loud he couldn’t hear her’s anymore.

“You’re…sorry?”

“Yeah, I- Hey!” he almost lost his footing when she shoved him, staring at her in shock, for the love of God, they were still on the stairs, “Don’t do that,” he held onto her wrists when she almost shoved him again.

“Why? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me she hurt you like that, you- don’t you think I would’ve stayed with you? I love you- I- I helped you as much as I could and if I knew you needed professional help I would’ve stayed by your side- did I not love you enough for you to realise that?” her words cut through him, it was as if reality had come and punched him in the face for her, “What’s the point of being so tough of on the outside when you’re hurting on the inside, indirectly hurting everyone who chooses loves you…” He watched her sigh, her resolve breaking as she looked up at him, streaks of fresh tears painting her face, causing his breath to hitch at the sight- no, if he had opened the door on the first day he would’ve cracked, he would’ve crumbled at her feet and to think he didn’t, to think he had let her cry like this at his doorstep for so long, to have her break down, to lose a piece of her every night because he was too afraid to confront her, even though she had come to him, fate was not cruel to him, no, for once fate had pitied him, by sending him a form of compensation he was unworthy of, a form of love that he was unworthy of, for he was unworthy of her.

“I…” his head hung low, fingers tightening around her wrists as he let out a quiet sob, before he slowly sat down, the world around him spinning a bit too fast, though he did not know she had followed after, he didn’t even know when he started bawling his eyes out, his deafening cries were being muffled by her shoulder as she hugged him close, a soothing hand rubbed his back, though she never shushed him, never asked him to stop, in fact, it was as if she was encouraging him to continue crying, to let it all out. Soon his sobs turned into incoherent apologies, which morphed into hiccups of her name, squeezing her close to him as she pressed his face into her neck, whining and mumbling about- honestly, she couldn’t even understand him, she was just glad he had finally decided to let it out, to finally feel whatever he had barricaded away, whatever was stopping him from loving and feeling loved. He doesn’t know how long it took, but he’s sure it was after a solid twenty minutes when he finally peaked up at her, catching the way she gave him a small smile, only for him to whine and hide back in her neck, mumbling, “Do you still hate me?”

“I don’t hate you San, I just hate what you did to me.” She sighed, slowly peeling him off her as she cupped his face, taking note of his puffy eyes and red nose, her thumbs caressing the warm and wet skin below his eyes, “I don’t think I deserved to be punished for something I didn’t do.” He could only meekly nod at her statement, before sniffing and letting out a shaky breath, followed by another apology which she nodded at. Standing up he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, before he picked up her things once more, turning around so she could hop onto his back.

“I can slowly walk there, you know?” she asked only for him to shake his head, not even turning to look at her as he did so, just waiting for her to do as he asked, which she did thankfully.

The walk to her apartment was quiet, though not as tense as the walk to the store was, or before they finally fought, in fact, she felt quite better, she didn’t really know about him, but it had been a long time since she had felt this light as if the weight of the horrid world had been lifted of her shoulders. Ever so often, she’d hear him sniff, but that was all, halfway up the elevator ride to her apartment she felt him gripping her tighter, closer, though she did not say anything.

It was when she was at the door when she tried to move but he didn’t let go, instead stood there facing the door with her on his back, not saying a word or moving an inch.

“San.”

“I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“I can’t lose you again.”

She sighed at his statement, before giving what was similar to a back hug, placing a kiss on his shoulder, slowly slipping out when he eased because of her antics. Limping over to the door she finally unlocked it, turning to look up at a dejected mountain of a man, holding onto her pink sandals in one hand, while on his shoulder clutched close to his body was her hot pink purse, if this wasn’t a serious moment she may have even laughed. Still, the sight of him standing there, like a kitten kicked in the rain had her gripping the doorknob, wondering what she should do next, was it worth the effort? Was giving him another chance worth the risk of the pain? All that therapy she had to go through when she decided to move on- but had she moved on? Well, she thought she did, until she met him again tonight until he began to carry her down the stairs, until she realised he too was going for that horrid drink, until he sat there quietly drinking it with her, until he began to treat her injury as if nothing had happened- perhaps a part of her did not want to move on, or was she waiting to see if he had moved on?

“I can’t just…forget everything San.” She finally gave into the rational part of her being, “I can’t help someone, who doesn’t want to help himself,” looking up at him she noticed the way his eyes had watered, his lower lip trembling, much like his shoulders, “I need to know if what I’m fighting for is worth it? Are we really worth it, Sannie?”

His ears picked up the little nickname, most people who were close to him would call him that, but when the name slipped off her tongue, his heart grew bigger three sizes, his heart grew braver three sizes, something ignited within his soul, his fingertips tingling with a new found sensation, his eyes met hers, eyes burning with a new found determination, a newfound realisation, “We are. I need to make it up to you, I want to make it up to you, I will make it up to you…” he paused, before taking a deep breath, “Only if you let me.”

She looked at him quietly, taking in his words, perhaps she had woken up someone who lay asleep for years, slowly losing himself within the broken shell of a man who walked aimlessly around the Earth claiming to be Choi San, perhaps this was the real Choi San, the one Wooyoung had told her to fight for, the one Wooyoung had told her would love her endlessly, would hold onto her tighter than she’d hold onto him, the one who was to bring down the galaxy and present it to her on his palm, all wrapped within his love and admiration for her.

“I have to go for talking therapy at 8 pm tomorrow.”

“We have to go for our talking therapy at 8 pm tomorrow.” With that he handed her the purse, leaning closer to the door before opening it and picking her up princess style, her sandals still hanging off his fingers as she scoffed, wrapping her arms around him, “You’re sleeping on the couch though.”

“As long as I still have a date with you tomorrow.”

“Again, it’s therapy.”

“Therapy dates can be our thing.” He smiled down at her, a genuine smile, a smile that she had barely seen, one that came with the dimples and the crinkle of his nose, his teeth peaking out at her, contagious enough for her to morph a similar smile, perhaps not as pretty as his, but for him, it was the brightest, most beautiful, most charming smile he had ever seen, the very sight he would long for each night, when his self-induced state of pity would subside and the kinder, selfless San would resurface, the one who had decided to set the same picture as his wallpaper as her own- that’s why he was so shocked to find out that even though the two hadn’t met for almost a year, or talked to each other, they somehow still happened to have the same wallpaper- guess fate really did know what she was doing, enough to have the two craving the disgusting, ungodly lime milkshake.

Taglist: @edenesth @yessa-vie @the-kpop-simp @mlysalt @spooo00oky

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