The water being poured over his shoulders was warm. It felt almost hot against his cold body, but it was soothing, and in a way, it reminded him of home - of the waters that always surrounded him as a child, that enveloped him every day and every night. At that moment, home felt so far away. Everything felt so far away. His family, his friends, the theater, Jonghyun, even his own thoughts.

He was shaking. He didn't know why he couldn't stay his hands - the hands which were still coated with blood - blood which had sat so long it was now dried and brown.

He watched the water slowly wash it away. The young man before him carefully took his hands in order to clean them more carefully, to make sure every trace of that man's death was gone from his body. If only Taemin could wash it so easily from his mind. If only he could forget the screams of pain, or the feeling of the body crumbling beneath him, or forget the rage and exhilaration that overcame him.

If only he could stop shaking.

The young man gripped his cleaned hand tighter, as if to comfort him. Taemin finally lifted his eyes and met his gaze. His expression was heavy, but he smiled softly, as if trying to let some of his natural joy show through. Taemin could tell, the man before him was joyful. At least, he was supposed to be, but it was obvious something had beaten him down recently.

"We're almost done," he said as he scrubbed his body, as he gave him a bath that was obviously meant for royalty. Normally, Taemin would have been amused by all the attention and the details, but right then, he didn't care. Everything around him felt so distant. He felt distant.

And he felt sick. Sick like that morning after he had spent the night away from the theater, only worse.

"Where is he?" he wanted to ask. Where was Jonghyun? Was he alright? Was he healing? Was he frightened? Was he disturbed? Was he at all worried for him like Taemin was?

Was he alone? Was he with his fiancée? Were they comforting each other while he stood there alone with the stranger?

Somehow, the man before him seemed to sense his distress. "The prince is going to be alright," he said, "Thanks to you. You saved his life, you know."

He grabbed a towel and carefully started drying him off. Taemin stood there motionless, letting him work.

"Good thing you were there," he continued. He sighed heavily and shook his head. "I don't know what we would have done if the prince had been killed. I..." He paused, "I just don't know what to do with that boy."

He could tell the man before him was close with the prince, and that he cared for him deeply. Taemin wondered why he wasn't with him now, instead of tending to him.

"He hasn't been the same since his mother passed. And with everything going on in the kingdom, and the pressures he's facing, I understand why he wants his freedom, but...doesn't he see how dangerous it is? How many times does he have to be nearly murdered to see it? I thought getting married would calm him down. And he seemed to be happier lately. I thought it was good. I thought things would be better."

His rant died into silence. Taemin didn't understand why the man confided in him, but he was honored that he did.

"Your name is Min, right?" he asked, now speaking of other things.

Taemin nodded.

"Everyone calls you 'Water Boy', but, I'm sorry, that's not a proper name. So I'm calling you Min. My name is Jinki, by the way. And I've been charged by the prince to take care of you."

Finally, something inside him stirred. Despite Jonghyun's own injury, he wanted to make sure he was cared for. By his close friend, no less.

"Whatever you need, Min, I'm here for you."

When Jonghyun awoke, the first thing he was aware of was the pain. His shoulder was throbbing, despite the medicine he had been given and despite his long hours of rest. He groaned softly and blinked against the sunlight, before becoming completely alert.

He was still inside his bedroom, tucked comfortably in his own bed. The blood from his injury still stained the sheets beneath him, but they would be done away with as soon as he was up. They would be disposed of along with the two men who remained from the ambush.

The memory left a sour taste in his mouth, so he chose to focus on something more pleasant. He found that Meeyon had remained by his side through the entire night. His bride-to-be was curled up on the small couch, which had been moved closer to his bed for the occasion. Along with her, two guards were stationed at his door in case of any trouble.

"Meeyon," he said, stirring her from her shallow sleep. The young woman sat up immediately and came to his bed. Though she was tired and suffered a few scrapes from their assault, she was alright and whole. Unlike him, she had come out physically sound. And unlike Water Boy, she had come out unwounded in her soul as well.

"How are you feeling?" his fiancée asked, tenderly his face.

"I'm fine," he assured her.

"That's good. The doctor said you would be. Luckily, the arrow didn't do too much damage to your muscles. As long as you rest, you'll heal nicely."

"Rest?" he repeated, "I can't rest, I'm getting married in two weeks."

"You don't need to worry about anything," she said, "I'll handle any preparation that are required of us."

"I'm not taking about the preparations. I'm talking about after the ceremony."

She smacked him playfully on the knee. "You never stop, do you?"

He chuckled with her, as he always found it easier to make humor than focus on the grief, when something was too painful. And right then, there was a lot of pain. Pain, shame, disappointment, and anger. Not to mention, fear. Fear not for himself, but for everyone else involved, and the people who had been hurt the most.

"What about Water Boy? Where is he? Is he alright?"

"Jinki is still with him," Meeyon said, "I haven't left the room to check on him."

"I want to see him," he decided suddenly. He pushed himself upright, managing to move even with the sling the doctor had fastened to his arm.

"You need to rest," she cautioned, trying to get him to stay in bed.

"Walking a few paces down the hall isn't going to kill me."

"Let me call for him."

"No, I can go. It's fine," he assured. He cast aside the blankets and carefully stood to his feet. The floor felt a little unstable because of his medicine, but he physically felt fine, especially for a short walk in his own home.

Despite what he said, Meeyon stayed close to him for support. Together, they walked out the door and into the hall. The guards stationed there said nothing to him, but they followed after them down the hall, as was now their orders. Jonghyun knew things were about to change. One attempt on his life had been bad enough; a second attempt was just the excuse his father needed to trap him further inside that castle.

But for the moment, he decided not to think about that. He had other concerns, mainly the one that resided in the luxury suite that was normally reserved for the most important of guests. Now it sheltered Water Boy, the man who had saved his life.

The stationed guards opened the door and they entered the suite to find Jinki was the only one present. Upon seeing Jonghyun up and about, he nearly panicked.

"What are you doing walking around? Didn't the doctor tell you to rest?"

"Actually, no," he replied, "He did tell it to her though."

"Your highness--"

"Relax, Jinki. I'm just here to see Min. It's not going to kill me."

His attendant was still bothered, but he didn't argue with him further. He sighed and gestured to the door behind him. "He's out on the balcony."

"Thank you."

He and Meeyon went to the open balcony doors and stepped out into the fresh ocean air. Water Boy was out there like Jinki said, laid on one of the benches and apparently asleep. Jonghyun gently pried himself out of his fiancée’s grip and stepped closer to the bench in order to get a better look at his friend.

He didn't know who the young man before him was - the Mysterious Water Boy. The young man who had appeared in the region without any name, any history, or any voice to tell them. He was an enigma, yet Jonghyun knew he had become a strong force in his life. He was someone who kept appearing and reappearing, and he saved his life.

Last night, after the chaos, Min had been in a daze. He just sat there in shock. Jonghyun had been unable to do anything but watch him as Meeyon ran for help. For several long agonizing minutes, it had been just the two of them, both covered in blood for separate reasons, laying there in silence next to their attacker's corpse.

Even though he had witnessed it with his own eyes, he couldn't believe such a delicate boy had killed a man. He couldn't believe that he almost single-handedly saved his life.

Who was that mysterious Water Boy? And why did he feel so strongly toward him? And it was more than just the close encounter with death that bonded them. It was something more, just something he couldn't put his finger on.

As if sensing the pair of eyes on him, Min stirred. He blinked a few times before turning and noticing he stood there. Immediately, he jumped up from the bench. Aside from the bruises that had already been on his body, the boy looked fine. Physically, at least. Jonghyun could still see the lingering shock in his deep brown eyes.

As always, Min looked like he wanted to say something. He stood there gazing at him, and his eyes asked all the questions he couldn't voice.

"I wanted to thank you, Min. You saved my life." He found himself uttering that phrase a second time. His mind immediately took him back to that island, to Taemin, to his loss and his pain. He no longer had the merman in his life, but he had a strange human friend that reminded him oddly of him. "I feel like I owe too many people my life lately," he commented to himself.

Meeyon stepped forward and embraced Min, holding him tightly as she placed a formal kiss on his cheek. "You're a blessing from the goddess, and we're forever in your debt," she said.

Jonghyun would have embraced and kissed him too, if he wasn't certain it would hurt his shoulder. So he instead extended his good hand. Water Boy took it in the most genuine way.

"I'm sure Jinki has sent word to Kibum at the theater by now, but I want you to know that you are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish. And anything you desire will be given to you. You're are our honored guest."

He hoped the news would have made him happy, but Min's smile was half-hearted. Maybe he didn't care too much about having his every whim and wish catered to. Maybe all he wanted to was to make sure he was alright. After all, he had gone through such lengths to protect him. Jonghyun wasn't even sure his guards had such devotion toward him.

Beginning to feel his fatigue, he went to the nearest bench and took a seat. Meeyon immediately followed to be beside him, fretting over him nervously. Jonghyun kept his hand in Min's and pulled him closer, having him sit on his other side. The boy sat angled toward him, but not particularly close, unlike before. It was as if with Meeyon there, he didn't want to over-step his bounds. He noticed the boy occasionally glancing her way, but he couldn't place the look he saw in his eyes.

The poor kid. He looked like he was about to burst, like there was something he needed to say, but couldn't.

"Can you write, Min?"

He was still for a moment, before he shook his head.

"No one ever taught you? I can't believe it."

He tried to say something, but Jonghyun couldn't tell what it was.

"Hey, Jinki!" he called. The royal attendant appeared immediately, as if waiting just outside the door.

"Yes, your highness?"

"Get me a pen and paper, will you?"

"Of course." Jinki hurriedly disappeared to carry out his orders. As they waited for him, they were all silent. The boy stared fixatedly at Jonghyun's injured shoulder, while his fingers absently the hand he had yet to let go of. Once again, Jonghyun wondered what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Behind that innocent face, he could have sworn he saw rage in his eyes.

"Here you go, your highness," Jinki said as he came walking back onto the balcony, carrying a tray with some paper, a pen, and ink. Meeyon took the tray from him and set it on her lap, since Jonghyun obviously couldn't hold it himself.

"You can stay if you'd like," he said to the attendant, before turning his full attention to the paper. He gently pulled his hand out of Min's and took the pen, quickly writing on the blank sheet of paper. He then presented it to the boy. "See? It's your name."

He took the sheet of paper from him and stared down at the three simple letters that spelled out his name. He blinked a few times, before taking the pen from him. He reached over and dabbed it on the ink, before scrawling on the paper. Jonghyun expected him to repeat spelling his own name, but he surprised him by writing something else entirely. He wrote in a script that he had never seen before.

"What's that?" he asked him.

Min simply gave him the paper, which had the foreign words written above the "Min." Meeyon leaned over him to get a better look at it. Jinki also drew closer to see.

"What's it say?" Jonghyun asked again.

"I've seen this writing before," Jinki said, grabbing his attention. He took the paper from him to see it better.

"Where?" Meeyon asked.

"I'm not sure," he answered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "In a museum, maybe. Or the archives."

"Is it the language of your people?" Meeyon asked Min.

He nodded.

"Well, if we can find out who his people are, we can find out where he's from," Jonghyun concluded, "And we might be able to get you home."

Unexpectedly, Minnie's expression fell. The thought didn't excite him in the least. And Jonghyun realized maybe the boy beside him wasn't lost. He might have been running from something. Or to someone.

"If you do remember where you've seen it, let me know," he told Jinki.

His attendant only nodded, too lost in his own thoughts to answer verbally.

A moment of silence came over the small group. Jonghyun turned back to Minnie and met his gaze. He stared back at him intensely. If eyes could speak, his certainly would have. He just had no idea what they were saying.

A knock from inside the suite broke their moment. Jinki handed Jonghyun back the paper before rushing off the balcony to go answer the door. The prince heard him speaking softly to someone, then there was a rush of over-lapping voices. The next moment, three men rushed through the suite and out onto the balcony. Jonghyun recognized them all immediately, but the only one he knew by name was Kibum.

The theater director was the least hysterical of the three. He actually looked embarrassed as he followed the two men out there, and even more so when he realized the prince and his fiancée were present.

"Forgive our intrusion, your highness!" he said as he rigidly bowed. The other two who accompanied him still didn't seem to notice Jonghyun was there. They just went straight to Min and pulled him up off the bench, hugging and fretting over him.

"You had us so worried," one of them said, "Thank heavens you're alright."

The poor Water Boy looked rather nonchalant as they fussed over him, as if it was something he was used to. Despite the unusual amount of informality of the moment, Jonghyun couldn't help but feel amused, not insulted.

Eventually, the two theater men quit strangling Min with their affections and realized the prince was there. They immediately noticed their mistake and bowed down to him.

"Forgive us, your highness," one of them said, "We were just so worried about our friend. He's had a habit of disappearing on us lately." Minho looked at Min, who suddenly seemed embarrassed.

"I forgive you," Jonghyun said easily, "I understand your anxieties."

"We're glad to see you are well, your highness," Joonmyun added, "When we heard of the attack, we were afraid for you all."

"Well, thanks to Minnie, we all survived," Jonghyun replied. Minnie's embarrassment now took on a different edge. "And it's good to see you're all here. If your friend wishes to return with you, he can, but I let him know he is an honored guest here now, and he can stay for however long he wishes."

Jonghyun then rose to his feet, as he felt their more intimate moment with Min was over with, and he probably wanted to spend some time with his friends. The Water Boy's eyes stayed locked on his as he took his hand one last time, giving it one last grip, before he turned to exit the balcony, leaving Minnie with his friends.

"Thank you so much, your highness," Kibum said for them all.

"Of course, Key," he told him casually, before he left with his fiancée, to take care of the fatigue that was finally starting to creep back up on him.

Taemin had decided not to go back to the theater. At least, not yet. Despite Minho's arguing and complaining, Taemin stood his ground and made him understand that he wanted to stay - that he needed to stay. Minho didn't understand all of it, but he had conceded in the end, and Taemin was glad. Because there was something he needed to accomplish, and it was something that could only be done if he stayed in the palace. He wouldn't get the chance otherwise.

After a long visit, Minho, Joonmyun, and Kibum all left the palace and returned to the theater, with the promise that they would come for him again when he was ready. Taemin didn't doubt it, although part of him never wanted to go back to the theater. If everything went according to his plan, he wouldn't have to. Jonghyun would have him stay there with him forever.

It had been five days since Taemin had seen Jonghyun. Though he and the prince were but a short walk down the hall from each other, Jinki had explained to him that there were customs inside the palace. One did not just merely approach the prince whenever they wanted, especially a commoner like himself. He would have to wait till Jonghyun called on him, or came to visit himself. And with the young man recovering from an injury, he wasn't allowed to do much calling.

But Taemin hadn't wasted the five days he spent without him. He had spent all of that time learning to write.

It was difficult for him, since the script and the characters humans used were so different from the ones he had been taught as a child. But he was determined to learn it, no matter how much time it took him. Besides, he didn't have to learn it all at once. He just needed to write what needed to be said. He just had to make the prince see.

After all, he could not go on like that forever. His heart could not take much more. He had already given so much, endured so much. But as long as he could make him see in the end, then it would have all been worth it. All of it.

At the end of the sixth day, it had just been too long. Taemin couldn't stand waiting any longer. So after night had fallen, after Jinki had retired to his own quarters to sleep, Taemin slipped out of his suite. The typical pair of guards was stationed outside his door, but they didn't move or even acknowledge him as he stepped outside of his sanctuary. After all, they were there to respond to threats, and Taemin was not a threat. They let him leave, and let him walk down the hall to the largest bedroom where another pair of guards were standing.

To Jonghyun's chambers.

Only now, those guards weren't so stationary. They broke their rigid posture to address him and blocked the doors with their bodies.

"You're not permitted to enter," one of them told him coldly.

Even if Taemin could talk, he didn't think he would have. He probably would have just stood there the same way he stood there now - silent, anxious, and desperate. As always, his prince was so close yet so far out of reach.

"Can you hear me?" the guard inquired, when he remained too long without responding. "You should not be there. Certainly not at this hour. It is late, go back to your quarters, sir."

Giving in, Taemin turned back toward his room, but before he could get one step, the doors behind the guards opened. The two men turned to the royal servant who stood curiously the door.

"What is this commotion at this hour?" the young man asked.

Before either of the guards could answer, a voice called from inside the room. "Who's there?"

The servant turned back to address his master. "It's your honored guest, your highness."

"Minnie?" Jonghyun said, "Let him in."

The servant turned back to face Taemin, and an amiable smile brightened his stern features. "Please, come in, young master," he said. The guards then stepped aside, and Taemin slowly and anxiously entered into the prince's chambers.

It was dark inside those elegant rooms, except for a fire burning in the fireplace and a few candles. Taemin followed the servant further in, feeling suddenly small and wary. Even though he knew the prince so wall, part of him still felt overwhelmed by his stature and title. The princes on the land seemed so much more feared and revered than the princes under the sea. Taemin was certain no one would have felt so nervous stepping inside his own abode.

Eventually, the prince emerged from his bedchamber. He was dressed comfortably for the night, and looked much more like the man he would meet on the shore. Only, he looked more tired now. More heavy-hearted. He supposed nearly dying twice would do that to someone.

"Minnie. Can't you sleep either?" Jonghyun asked, smiling pleasantly despite what he must have felt like. His sling was off his arm, but it was obvious the injury still pained him. Taemin couldn't help the overwhelming pity he felt for the man, then the rage he felt for his attackers, then the horrible shame he felt for himself. He could not recall one piece of that night without recalling all the other horrifying details that followed.

A wave of sickness overcame him, but his stomach settled as Jonghyun came closer.

"I meant to come visit you sooner, but it's been a crazy few days," he explained. He took Taemin by the arm and led him to couch where the both of them took a seat. Taemin resisted the urge to sit too close to him, to fall into the pattern they had started several months ago. "How are you? Are you well?"

Taemin nodded emphatically, but for some reason, Jonghyun didn't seem convinced. Maybe he knew he couldn't possibly be alright, not after killing someone. Whether justified or not, it was still something horrible to bear.

His attention went to his servant briefly, and he dismissed the man for the night. He left the chambers, and it was just Taemin alone with his prince. Finally. And while that arrangement excited him more than anything, he was still nervous. He never knew he could feel so terrified sitting next to someone he loved so much. He never imagined it would be so hard.

"Would you like something to drink? Some wine?"

Taemin shook his head. After all, he had promised himself that he would never touch alcohol ever again, not after what had happened the last time.

"Nothing at all?"

He refused again. And Jonghyun only smiled, but Taemin didn't understand why.

"You know it's rude to refuse the prince when he makes you an offer," he explained.

Taemin suddenly felt very foolish. There was still so much he didn't know.

"Fortunately for you, I don't really care," he continued, as he relaxed more into the couch, "To be honest, it's refreshing. It's nice to be around people who don't really care about my royalty. Between you and Meeyon and..." He paused for second, "It's been refreshing. A refreshing and terrifying couple of weeks."

Taemin was daring and drew closer to him, putting aside his wariness. Luckily, the prince didn't seem to mind. He never did, whether he was merman or Water Boy, he let him sit close and rest against his shoulder. He let him draw comfort from him, and give comfort to him at the same time. The prince drifted into his own thoughts and absently patted his knee.

"Meeyon wanted me to tell you that you're invited to our wedding."

Taemin felt every muscle in his body go tense.

"We want you there as our honored guest."

He pulled back and shook his head.

"What? You don't want to be at the wedding?"

No.

"Why not?"

He hoped his look was answer enough. He hoped he could see it in his eyes. He hoped he would pause for just one moment to look at him, to really look at him, to see him for who he was and to understand everything he felt for him.

"I love you," he mouthed. "I...love...you."

Jonghyun angled his head. He had read it, but it took him a moment to understand it. His eyes widened slightly. "You love me?"

He nodded.

The prince drew back from him slightly, as if shocked. For a moment, he just sat there, as if not sure what to think of it. Then he smiled, in an ironic sort of way. "How could you love me? I'm a reckless, spoiled brat with a secret death wish. I nearly got you killed."

But he had done so much for him. He had made him believe in a world where he could find happiness. He had made him brave enough to break beyond his barriers and visit a world that he had only dreamed about. He had given his life purpose, meaning, hope. How badly he wanted to tell him all of those things.

But he couldn't. So he spoke to him the only way he knew how. He kissed him.

The prince was still, but open to him. He let him kiss him. He let him throw all his desires and emotions into that one action, trying to convey to him just how deeply he felt. How painfully he burned for him. It was something he had wanted to do for so long, since he had first tasted his kiss back on that island, and finally getting his chance, he threw his every bit of heart and soul into the moment.

Jonghyun had to have felt it. He had to have understood.

But he broke the kiss. He turned his head to end the moment, to give Taemin a second to breathe and himself a second to arrange his thoughts.

"I can't do this," he said in the end.

Surprised, Taemin drew back to look him in the eye, to see his neutral expression and his guarded emotions. "I'm sorry, I can't do this again."

He suddenly left the couch. He left Taemin sitting there, confused and afraid. Without another word, he left the room entirely, retreating to his bedchambers where he shut himself inside. Taemin remained there on the couch, unmoving. He didn't understand it at all.

Where had he gone wrong? What was missing? What did he have to do to make it right?

He rose from the couch and followed him, but he did not go inside. Even if he tried to, he knew the door would be locked on him. Just like Jonghyun's heart was locked to him. So close, but so far.

He had given up everything, left behind everything, traded his birthright, his voice, his existence for him. He had killed for him. He had suffered so much. And for what? A closed door and a closed heart.

He felt the rage again, and he hit the door. He slammed his fist against it with all the strength that was in his body. "I hate you!" his empty voice screamed, "I hate you!"

Even though his empty heart was still shouting, "I love you."

A/N: This fic is so freakin' melodramatic. XD

Hey look, a regular update! lol Thanks for reading! Comments are appreciated. <3