I was currently sitting on in an armchair, watching the boy from before sleeping soundly on my bed, curled up into the fetal position.

I’d made him some pasta, and we’d only talked enough to get by. I still didn’t know his name, but he was looking much healthier now that he’s gotten some sleep and some food in his stomach.

As I sat there, I was thinking about what this boy made me feel and why I was starting to feel it. I googled the definition of sympathy; it’s the harmony of or agreement in feeling, as between persons or on the part of one person with respect to another. I can’t be doing this. I can’t allow myself to feel. Once I feel for one person, I’ll start to feel for everyone. And I’ll stop being able to do my job. Stop being able to do what I was made to do. Literally.

Why now? Why this guy? I’ve seen hundreds of thousands of guys of all races, cultures and appearances. What about this particular person made me want to take care of him, made me care for his future and wish I could be a part of that future?

He stirred on the bed and I looked away, not wanting him to think that I was creepy because I was staring at him. And here I go feeling embarrassed. What is wrong with me?

“You’re still here?” he said. “What did you do while I was asleep?”

“I was just thinking.” I said.

“About what?”

“Honestly?” I said. “Well, you, mostly.”

“What about me?”

“Just… you’re different.” I said. “And I don’t know why.”

There was a brief pause, an almost awkward silence.

“How did you know why I was here?” he asked. “Most people would have just kicked me out or called the police, thinking I was there to steal something. Other than food, I mean.”

“Well, I’ve been trained to read people based on appearance. You’re skinny as hell, no offense, and you aren’t wearing clothes that fit. I can tell that you wanted food, not anything else. You weren’t going to sink to stealing personal items, just food. And I bet you were going to leave everything exactly where it was when you found it.”

“I wasn’t going to take much. Just a couple slices of bread.” he said.

“I know.” I replied. “Look. I know you don’t have a place to stay. And if you do, then it’s not up to the quality of living that humans need to survive. So I’m going to offer you a place to stay, and I know I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but for some reason, I want to keep you safe. So I’d really like it if you stayed with me, at least for a couple months or so. I want you to get healthy, and actually have some muscle on you before you get out there on your own.”

“Don’t you at least, like, want to know my name first?”

“Why not?”

“I’m Youngjae.” he said, extending a hand.

I ignored his hand, but smiled. “I’m Daehyun.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” I said. “Do you need a shower or anything?” I asked. “I can get you more food if you’re still hungry.”

“I’m think you’ve fed me enough for now… but a shower sounds amazing.”

“All right, well, let me get some clothes for you to change into. The shower is down the hall and on the left.”

“Thank you.” he said, getting up and walking over to me.

“It’s not a problem.” I said. “I’m normally the only one around here, except for Keke.”

“Keke?”

“My cat.” I said, gesturing towards where she was curled up at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, the little tabby?” he asked. “Yeah, she’s a sweetheart. He was all over me when I was looking for food.”

“He likes strangers. I don’t know why… Anyways, here are your clothes.” I turned around to find him standing about a foot away.

“Thank you.” Youngjae said. “Seriously… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough.”

And then he did something… unexpected.

I was suddenly wrapped up in a tight embrace, his head resting on my chest and his arms around my waist. Warmth spread through my body, and the parts of me that came into contact with his skin felt like they were on fire. I felt myself wrapping my arms around his shoulders against my own will and my mind was screaming at me to let go and get away. That this was wrong and I needed to get away as soon as I could. But I couldn’t let the small boy go. I wanted him here, in my arms. I didn’t want to let him go, ever, but I forced myself to loosen my grip on him and hand him the pile of clothes that I’d pulled out for him.

“Down the hall, on the left.” I said, and he walked out of the room.

I seriously need to figure out what's going on, and fix it. Soon.