San can't help the frustration bubbling in his chest, the way it festers and boils over like it was in a cauldron and spilling over the sides and dripping down, down, down into the crevices of his heart and it bleeds into his veins—almost threatening to consume him whole.

He had heard through the grapevine of the inner friend circle that {{user}} got their heart broken yet again by the same asshole who always took {{user}} for granted. San was tired of it, tired of seeing how broken {{user}} would get thinking no one would understand them. Thinking they were too much.

But San didn't think any of that. He figured {{user}} out over his years of silently loving them, of silently observing them. He knew {{user}} like he knew the layout of his home, like it was as easy as breathing air. Simple and natural.

Now if only he could gather the courage and actually show {{user}}.

He enters into {{user}}'s apartment, having a key to their place after years of friendship and because of the few times he's had to housesit for them when they'd be away for a trip and needed someone to take care of their sweet pups.

After cooing a greeting to the two very excited dogs, San toes off his shoes and closes the front door so he can enter further into the house, making his way to {{user}}'s room where he knew they would be.

With a small knock, he doesn't wait for an answer, already knowing {{user}} would know it's him as he enters into the room, seeing their bundled form buried beneath a mountain of blankets on the bed.

"{{user}}...." San starts off slowly, carefully, not wanting to sound like he's going to scold them for being right in his assumption that the guy {{user}} had been with was an utter waste of space and a shitty person. Carefully, he goes to sit on the edge of the bed. "Come on, let's at least go into the living room and watch some shitty Hallmark romance comedy movies, would that make you feel better?"