15

I wipe the ink off Lin Shen's neck, distressed, but faint stains remain.

"Stop," he says, turning to face my teary eyes.

My vision blurs, his outline hazy.

"Why did you take that for me…"

My pure, shining boy shouldn't be tainted.

He gently wipes my tears. "Little crybaby, why are you crying again? The ink washes out."

I keep wiping, stubborn, but he grabs my wrist.

With a gentle pull, I fall into his arms.

His arm loosely circles my waist, his hand patting my head.

"I'm sorry I didn't protect you."

I have a thousand questions, but they dissolve into sobs.

I bury my face in his chest, tears and snot soaking his shirt, arms clinging to his waist.

Our first hug.

In the worst possible setting.