Your existance made me feel like all lies were true

"Come here and have a talk with me"

Your innocence prevents you from understanding my agony

Watching you from here was the tiniest happines in this dark age

As the days went by, so did the torture, as well as executions. Perhpas the military people were getting bored, and wanted some fun, or maybe they were just homicidal. Who knew? No sane prisoner would dare ask such a thing.

Minho was the youngest among all the Rebels at this torturous place, but he was the bravest.  When even the strongest of the strongest men among them screamed and shouted to combat the intense pain of the whips and knives, he stayed silent, taking it all like his father used to. It even came to a point where he had to force himself to limp across the yard in order to send his reply. 

The girl had actually gasped in horror at his physical state, but said nothing.

It may have looked rude and uncaring for her to not have asked how he was or not shown any form of concern, but to MInho, it was what he wanted. The letters that they had exchanged had told the other their personalities and their beliefs. The brunette knew that her concern would only hurt and anger him more.

These meetings, the existence of one who defied everything his parents had perceived one that was not a Rebel to be. The existence of this very pretty girl who was out of his reach, both metaphorically and literally speaking, in terms of both status and their physical boundary that came in the form of a horrible metal fence.

It was an existence that made him feel like every lie that he had been told about freedom could be true. That he would one day truly be free to roam the outskirts of the damn prison grounds and finally be able to play with his crush. He even remembered the statement that started it off.

"Come here and have a talk with me."

That was it, that was what he did at the girl's request.

His pain at having to go through the torture of those merciless soldiers. His despair at no longer having parents to comfort him and rely on. His agony at not being able to assure that this girl would continue talking to him everyday like this. His agony at not being able to gather up any courage to even ask for her name. He hid it, he never showed it to her, even though it was painfully obvious.

And every time their meetings came to an end, the two would wave, and the brunette would always leave with a smile. Her back would always look so frail yet demure, and  Minho would always stare at her retreating figure until she was completely gone from his sight. Only then did he reluctantly go back to his cell.

Watching her from where he was was good enough. Watching her from behind the fence was enough to fill him with happiness. It was the highlight of his day, everyday.

It was a tiny shred, tiny bit, of that hope and happiness for every tomorrow of his existence.