I will take your pain and make it my own. HJ/YD.

Though my heart aches, it's you;

My love protects me.

-Jung Eunji, 'It's You'.

You live by a rule. Don't get upset, get angry.

You wear anger like an old and worn, familiar thing. You told me once, the burning in your chest makes you feel alive. I don't tell you, but you made me mad that day. Can't you tell? You idiotic man. I want to make you feel alive too. I want to feel your heart thrumming underneath my palm, so at least I know you're right here with me.

Last night when we laid on the roof together--you gave me your jacket so my uniform won't get dirty. I hold your hand and you don't pull away. You were nice yesterday, have I mentioned that?

We looked for stars even though we knew there aren't any. They're hiding, I suggested. What are they hiding from? You asked.

I turned my head to kiss you, because I didn't want you to know that I don't have an answer.

They've ran away, you murmured against my lips. The stars. They don't like it here.

I didn't ask why.

They see everything, you said and I kissed you again because I couldn't stand the anguish in your voice.

If I could kiss away all your pain, I would. Draw them from your soul and lock them away inside myself, so it would never hurt you again.

I don't feel the tears on my cheeks until you wiped them away. I pressed kisses to your fingertips because I was supposed to absorb the pain, not you. I kissed my own tears away and it tastes salty. Always salty.

Don't get upset, you whispered into my ear like a secret, get angry.

I don't have the right to get angry. There is burden on my shoulders but it has never weighed me down. I laugh so easily and I smile every day. My mother nags and worries and my friends tease and hug; I have everything and you have so little. I have no right to get angry.

Then get angry for me, you smiled your beautiful smile.

I didn't tell you because of my pride, but I would've done anything for you if you'd asked.

I just don't want you to suffer anymore.

The bed shifts and I come back to myself. The memory lingers behind my eyelids but disappears as I blink. You're sleeping beside me, while I lay awake and look at your face, so peaceful as it never is during the day. But you are having a nightmare, I know. I see the shine of sweat on your forehead. Drenched in moonlight, you look pale and ghostly; like a mirage. If I touch you, I fear you'll fade away.

I touch you anyway, because you need me to. I rest a hand on your head and your face, twisted in pain, relaxed minusculy. My fingers run through your hair. I've never been a gentle person but I try with you. Despite my efforts, you're awake and your eyes look haunted.

Bad dream? I ask the obvious question.

You nod but don't say a word. I understand your voice wouldn't work the way you want to.

Does it hurt? I ask quietly. I don't explain because you know what I mean. The scars. The phantom pain. Does it hurt?

It does. It aches.

I wrap my arms around you and prays that it's enough. You're almost clinging to me, so tightly it almost hurts. But I have no right to get angry.

I cling to you just as tight.

It hurts. It aches. But I'll protect you.

I won't let you suffer anymore.

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finis.

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Word Count: 600