Youngjae’s heart is broken and he doesn’t know why. It just is-- like how he’s just human. Its got shattered bits and jagged edges. It’s ugly and it hurts to touch. He’s never met someone with a heart as broken as his or with a light so dim. It’s beyond repair, but it doesn’t stop him from trying to fix it.

He brings it to person to person, place to place, item to item, hoping they can help him.

For a while, Youngjae thinks that a boy named Jongup knows the answer. Jongup was so positive, he probably had enough illuminance for both their hearts, or at least Youngjae hoped.

And it did work for a while; Youngjae’s heart felt warm and it was fuzzying and dizzying and so much more.

This was someone who could fix his heart, he believed. Youngjae could take care of Jongup’s heart and he would take care of his in return. So he held Jongup’s heart with the utmost of care, keeping the warm flame inside alit. And Jongup really tried with his, too, but each time he tried to hold it, the rough points would cut into his skin, making him bleed. He honestly tried, but he just couldn’t bare the wounds it would inflict on him.

Youngjae doesn’t blame him, though. His heart’s damaged, after all.

After that, Youngjae wandered around some more. He tries to give his heart to another boy with golden locks and a pretty name like Junhong. He remembers him well. His heart was special. Youngjae envied it. Junhong’s was pristine, shining, spotless.

Youngjae offered his heart to him, but one glance and the boy went off running.

“Sorry, Youngjae.” Is all he gets as he feels his heart wilt a little more and tatter. This is alright, he thinks. It’s fine. His heart would only dirty the perfect ones and nobody wants that to happen. He picks up the leftover pieces again.

And then Youngjae just kind of stops trying. He decides to stop looking. He carries his heart in his pocket, in hiding, but that’s not even enough-- it’s as if everyone around him could sense his broken heart. Their eyes bore holes into his skin and he tucks away a bit more behind his scarf. His heart beats and it scratches against him harshly.

Youngjae eventually locks the damned thing away in a box.

No one seems to notice and, at the same time, he feels a weight lifted off his shoulders. He wonders why he hadn't done this earlier. There’s no stress, no worries, no agonizing stares.

But Youngjae meets a girl named Sunhwa. She reminds him of Jongup and it hurts. She smiles at him brightly and takes a hold of his hand. But she instinctively lets go once she feels the scars and raised bumps of Youngjae’s skin. She looks at him with some sort of pity, and Youngjae is just left to lament. Even when his heart isn’t around, he’s still labeled as damaged goods.

She smiles at him ruefully and apologizes, as if she is the cause of the scars. She takes his hand back into hers, this time squeezing it tighter than before. It hurts.

He hates the look she gives him and he thinks he hates her, too. She tries to take him for walks by the lake, pretending that he isn’t hating every second. If only ignorance really made things better. She tries to fix his heart. She tinkers with it, ironing away the sharp edges, filling in the gaps, but, somehow, she just makes it worse.

Youngjae wants so badly to take her heart and smash it against the ground. Just watch as all the pieces shattered beyond repair. He wants her to understand how mangled he feels, too.

And Youngjae does just that.

Sunhwa cries. Youngjae’s heart beats in some abandoned box somewhere. He doesn’t feel it, not really. But if he had to guess, it’s probably some aching feeling.

He leaves her, lets her go find someone better. He didn’t harm her that much, either, actually. It’s easily repairable with some dedication. She’ll find someone soon. She’ll forget.

Youngjae can’t say the same for himself.

He's sitting on a park bench, holding the box in between his calloused hands. He turns it around, examining the dented corners and water damage. It rained and he had left the box outside. Youngjae's heart feels heavy with water.

He wonders briefly if he could sell it as a paper weight. He could let someone get some use out of it. He sighs, shoulders visibly deflating.

"What'cha got there?" A curious voice flutters through his ears.

Youngjae almost jumps out of his skin. He barely misses dropping the soggy box down onto the pavement. The stranger catches it by its flimsy flaps, revealing the contents inside. Youngjae's embarrassed. His ears turn red.

"Whoa. Careful there." The guys says as he cautiously hands back his heart. "Hearts should be taken care of!" he grins as he scolds Youngjae lightly. "My name's Daehyun!" the man is all too eager to reveal.

Youngjae looks him up and down.

Daehyun feigns a look as if scandalized by his gaze.

"I am not a piece of meat to gawk at, pretty boy." The stranger laughs, patting Youngjae's back too harshly.

Youngjae simply nods his head and gets up to head home.

"What? You're just gonna leave without telling me your name?"

Youngjae doesn't answer and simply strides away with his box tucked haphazardly underneath an arm. Daehyun trails behind him, then in front of him, and then they just walk beside each other.

"What's your name, dear kind boy?" he asks for the nth time, again with a different petname.

He doesn’t respond and that fuels Daehyun’s pursuit even further. Youngjae unwillingly takes a stroll with him. His heart rattles around the box, it grows louder what every step. It echoes in his ears and it sounds like a violin played by some amateure. “That’s a sad melody.” Daehyun thoughtlessly comments.

“Then maybe you should avoid listening to it.” Youngjae snaps.

However, Daehyun doesn’t, despite his words. He comes and visits Youngjae everyday, listening to the same depressing tune that is the beating of his heart. He pokes at it and smiles when it reacts. Youngjae’s not sure why he’s exposing his heart, but, at this point, he doesn’t have the capacity to care.

He doesn’t know what Daehyun’s heart looks like, but he assumes it’s probably as perfect as Junhong's. People with hearts like that are always happy and overcome with joy like Daehyun. They're not at all like Youngjae.

"Go away." He tells Daehyun, but the idiot just keeps coming back, "You're just like Sunhwa."

"Sunhwa?"

"Never mind."

But Youngjae's lying. Daehyun is nothing like Sunhwa. She was always touching and trying to repair his heart, while Daehyun just gets a kick out of staring at it.

They have coffee together occasionally. Daehyun's odd fascination with Youngjae never gets brought up. It's better that way, he supposes. Avoiding hard subjects is Youngjae's speciality.

Daehyun's straightforward, though.

“Just cause it’s sad, doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful.” he says one day as he dips his piece of toast into his cup of cocoa.

Youngjae looks up from his newspaper. He’s fully aware of what Daehyun’s words are insinuating, but he still replies, “Excuse me?”

He chews on his soggy toast, “Your heart, ya know?” Crumbs tumble down his shirt, along with Youngjae’s ability to think. “It’s full of character.”

His lips are set into a tight line.

The lack of response worries Daehyun. His usual jubilant expression warps itself into something Youngjae’s never seen; his shoulders are slumped, eyes red, brows furrowed. He takes Youngjae’s reluctant hand into his own, unwrapping his tightened fingers from its fist. He rubs circles into his marred skin. “No--that’s not--how could I ever--I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing.” He mumbles, “I do that a lot, don’t I?” He laughs, avoiding eye contact.

Daehyun’s heartless; that is to say, he doesn’t have a heart. At least, not anymore, Youngjae comes to realize. He did, but he gave it away a long time ago and never received one in return. So he admires all hearts, in some kind of misguided envy.

“Why don’t you take my heart?”

“Youngjae, I can’t give you anything back.”

“That’s fine. I don’t want anything.”

“No. It is not fine.”

It’s raining. They share an umbrella as they pass through the park. The puddles on the ground reflect the trees and themselves. Daehyun hasn’t spoken for the last hour. He keeps his gaze fixated down onto the cement. Youngjae reaches for his hand to hold, but Daehyun just pulls it back.

His heart shivers from the cold.

Daehyun doesn’t want his heart, and Youngjae can understand why. So, for now, they’ll just walk together. Maybe someday he’ll accept it.

Youngjae grabs Daehyun’s hand before he can react.

this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, so i thought i should just wrap it up and post it. sorry for the abrupt ending.