My name is Woo Hyunmin, but most people call me Husky. I'm 24 years old, and a resident of South Korea, Seoul specifically. It's safe to say that I've spent nearly all of my life here in the city, barely having the chance to go out. One day, I want to see everything from grand churches and buildings, to simple cottages in the country. All of their beauty, I'm sure is unmatched and breathtaking. I want to see every one of them with Injun.

Ah, my dear Injun, I make sure to let him know how much I love him. We've been living together for about four years now, cherishing every little moment. Of course there has been days when we couldn't stand each other's presence, but never has one come along that ripped us apart. I'm afraid that we are now so deep into each other that I may not survive without him. He's been there when I needed him, when I wanted him, and even when I didn't. It's funny when someone irritates you to the bone, yet you can't keep away from him, mostly because the make up can get quite...interesting.

Damn, I hate it when my parents do this to me. They can frustrate me until I want to lash out at the nearest living creature. I know Injun and I are kind of well off, but asking for an entire box of food plus some random gifts every month is getting ridiculous. If memory serves me right, which it usually does, they earn more than enough to get those on their own. But they're my parents, how can I have the heart to refuse? Since I don't have the guts, my heart instead begins to fume, and it affects my attitude. I can't even tell someone about my trouble without looking like a selfish little brat, which explains my monthly outbursts, which Injun has taken the liberty of calling my male PMS. Ugh, I love that guy to pieces. I only wish I could see him right now, that would make me feel so much better.

The sauce on the stovetop seems to be good right about now, it's been boiling for a while, and the noodles are done. I'm sure they'll be fine...well, 80% sure. If worst comes to worst, we can always go out to eat, but that's usually way too much of a hassle to be enjoyable. I hear the door open and close, so Injun must be done from work. Wasn't it 14:00 just five minutes ago? Oh well, I've been wanting to see him anyway.

Footsteps approach, and I smile unconsciously. There's a brief shuffle before Injun comes and takes me from behind, making my smile that much bigger.

"You're cooking?" He takes my hand and asks me.

"Yes, Pooh Bear," I enthusiastically answer. "I wanted you to have something to enjoy when you came home."

"Aren't I supposed to be the mother?" Injun jokes.

We both laugh at that, and I turn around to kiss him gently on the lips, taking in the scent of his sanitized cubicle along with the candy bar he stopped for on his way home. How many times do I have to tell him not to ruin his appetite? Seriously, it's like I having to remind a child not to dig into the cookie jar before mealtime. Tell me again how I'm madly in love with this guy?

"You look so able when you're cooking," Injun surprises me as I finish up the spaghetti.

I answer with a short burst of laughter, trying not to let him know that I definitely would love to take him on the kitchen counter. Oh darn it, I can't be thinking of right now when we're just about ready to empty this pot of food. No, I need to think about meat sauce, or the plates, or the candles or...my parents' request. Ugh. That definitely did the trick.

Dinner isn't that much of a deviance from any other evening, save for the fact that I actually cooked, and I'm so miffed. This is one of those times that I want to go see majestic mountains, and vast seas that I've heard about so much. I envy anyone who's had the chance to behold such beauty, though most don't even know the wonder of their fortune...or is that the fortune of the wonder? Anyway, I could use a trip with just Injun along a great landscape or landmark to take my mind off of everything. If only we could.

Evening in our house are like nothing else. I wouldn't trade a single night for a world trip without my Pooh Bear, my one and only. It's not because he knows how to ride a...rooster. Come on, there's way more to our relationship than the nightlife, if you know what I mean. We usually cuddle about an hour before bedtime, so we can gently unwind while getting ready to sleep. There's nothing we don't talk about, save for a few little details we choose to omit, which any couple should have at least one or two.

"There's something you're not telling me," Injun says to me unhappily, and I bite my lip.

"Can we just go to sleep?" I try to deflect his worry. "It'll be okay tomorrow."

"Please, Husky," I can feel his pleading. "I'll always listen to you."

"That's kind of ironic, you know," I chuckle.

"Shut up," he laughs quietly. "You're one to talk. But seriously, just talk to me."

"I really don't want to think about it, Pooh Bear."

"Husky, please. I love you."

I sigh in defeat and hold him tighter in my arms.

"You love your parents, right?" I start.

"For the most part," Injun laughs again.

"Well...I love mine, but they just ask for so much, and we can't keep doing this. I mean, it's getting ridiculous. This is starting to look like they want us to have money problems, which is statistically the biggest factor of divorce among married couples."

"We're not married," he jokes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to--"

"No, you're right," I sigh. "Most of my familial conspiracy theories end with them tearing us apart one way or another. Which I can promise you, Pooh Bear, will never happen."

"I know, Husky. I'm really glad you let that out. Your parents are very grateful for you, I'm sure, and they seem to like me well enough. But you, they love you for sure. Enough not to try to keep us apart."

"Thank you, Pooh Bear."

"Anytime, love."

Why do you have to call me that? It makes me feel all fuzzy and warm inside, like I'm in high school again. Thank you again, Pooh Bear, no one listens to me like you do. It's funny, I haven't had many people who would take the time to listen to me, even for just a few moments out of the day. There have been a few, but no one's like my Pooh Bear.

The one man that listens to me the best is deaf.