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Black and purple, red and blue. Like splashes of paint, the wounds litered his body. I stared silently as I tended to them, cleaning the dirt and dried blood.

He lay quietly, passed out, too tired, too hurt to even flinch at the sting of the alcohol. A small sigh left me. I let my hand graze over old scars and new bruises. His arms, legs, chest, stomach, face; a painted canvas containg a story of agony.

"Sanghyuk-ah..."

I snapped when I heard my name barely pass through his parched lips.

"Hyung?" I jerked up right and reached for the glass of water on the bed stand. Lifting his head up gently I placed the cup at his lips. He drank greedily, water slightly spilling and running down his neck. The rapid rise and fall of his throat, the loud gulps sounding from him, it all weighed down on my heart. He resembled a starved animal. An innocent one.

At last when he tilted back his head. Replacing the back on the table, I gently lowered his head back to the pillow.

"Hyung... Do you want anything to eat? You havn't eaten anything..." He smiled gently and shook his head. He was still in pain. I knew. The rigidness possesing his body remained.

I placed my hand on his head, his hair softly. We remained in that pleasant silence. Simply trying to relax. His gaze wandered off to into the air. I wondered what he was thinking sometimes. It was hard to understand someone like him. Someone who could sit through so much pain, yet still come out greet the world like it was just another day.

Tomorrow. when we go to our lectures, I know, like every other day, he will smile and laugh and joke and pretend to be happy. And I would be there with him, like any other day, and watch him and silently cry for him.

"Is it bad...?"

I was starled from my thoughts, hearing his voice, it seemed so loud in the quiet room.

I knew what he was asking. It was bad. Getting hurt was always bad. But he had been through worse. So I shook my head.

"Not too bad hyung." I pressed a small kiss to his bandaged forehead in comfort.

He just smiled softly at the action and closed his eyes. I waited until breathing evened out before standing up to leave.

"Thank you... Sanghyuk-ah..." I didn't reply. I didn't want to cry.

It was 5:00 in the morning when I had found him collapsed at my apartment door. Now it was 6:00, an hour later that he was sound asleep. He usually took longer to sleep but I am glad that he could rest now.

But I couldn't rest. I couldn't fall asleep so easily now. It hurt so much.

I sat on the couch, simply staring out at the sky. Its dark black slowly turning a shade of purple. Soon the sun would near the horizon and bleed red into the clouds. Every day the sky would bleed.

Every day hyung would also bleed. Why did the sky look so beautiful while bleeding? Hyung was never beautiful when he bled. It hurt. I wished he didn't have to feel this much pain.

A silent tear slid down my cheek.

I wanted to hold him... and protect him from everything... I wanted to take his pain and make it my own.

I scoffed out loud at my own thoughts. What good would that do for him? He would only hurt even more knowing that I hurt. He was that kind of person. Sometimes I also wished that he would be selfish once in a while. Maybe then, it might hurt less.

I glanced at the clock once more. I probably wouldn't be going to my lectures today. I had to take care of hyung. He was bound to wake up around noon. I would take care of him, just be with him.

I picked up my phone and texted Ken hyung that I wouldn't be coming to classes today. Seconds later I got a text, first question my reason for being awake this early, then asking why.

A tiny smile formed on my lips looking at the series of emoticons in the text.

"I'm busy Ken hyung! I have work to do!" I told the phone as if expecting him to hear. I huffed before texting him back.

I lifted my head to stare at the bedroom door. I could hear hyung's heavy breathing through the silence that hung in the apartment. It was laboured from the pain and exhaustion. Sometimes he would be so hurt, he would start wheezing. I would stay beside all night when that would happen. He would wake into a coughing fit and I would give him water and hold his hand.

He would tell me how much it hurt and I would say I was sorry. He would ask me how long he would live like this and I would say I was sorry. He would appologize for being difficult and I would say I was sorry.

Hakyeon hyung was not difficult. He wasn't a burden. He was my hyung.

I was only sorry that I couldn't do anything more to help him.

I'm sorry It's so short.... I'll try to make it longer next time! Please comment!