"Lin?" You say. He raises his head and looks at you, dazed. You bend down and grab his hand, "Are you okay?" Lin opens his mouth, but no words come. You place a hand on his forehead. "You're burning up!" You exclaim. Lin closes his eyes, in obvious pain.

Without even thinking, you are pulling Lin to his feet. The man is quite light for his stature, but you still struggle to keep him upright, once he's standing. He sways drastically as he walks, and says nothing.

Back at your apartment, you lay Lin onto your sofa. You give him some ibuprofen and cough medicine and in minutes, he is sleeping peacefully... for now.

You do not sleep at all that night. Lin wakes up every hour with a coughing fit, still seemingly unaware and unconcerned with his surroundings, but in a lot of pain. You have many questions.

Does he have the flu? Pneumonia? How did he contract this? And most pressing of all, why was he sleeping behind a dumpster?

When morning comes, you wake Lin, eager for answers to you questions. Despite grogginess from the cough syrup, he seems more alert than before. He looks at you through wide, hollow eyes set in a hunger-pang frame. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He bites his lip and groans in frustration.

Suddenly, you realize what has happened. Lin has lost his voice. You dig into your Jeans pocket and pull out your cell phone, open it to the "Notes" app, and hand it to Lin.

He looks up at you confused for a moment before he feverishly begins typing. When he hands the phone back, it reads:

WHATS GOING ON?

"I could ask the same myself, Lin. What's going on with you? What were you doing behind the dumpster?" You say, handing the phone back to him.

He types a response and hands the phone back:

I don't remember... but where have you been????

Lin looks up at you painfully, not just a physical pain, but something deeper. You sigh and sit next to him on the sofa, he adjusts to make room for you. You open your mouth, but the words don't come. Lin pulls your phone form your grasp, types, and then hands it back:

I'm sorry I kissed you, it was way out of line.

Your face burns and you feel sick. "No!" You say, "It's not about that, its... This is what I do. I let people get close to me and I hurt them and I care too much about you to let myself hurt you." You hand the phone to Lin and he types:

I was so worried about you, when you didn't show up. But then I saw you on campus once and I realized you just didn't want to see me...

Your breath catches in your throat: "No! It's not like that at all! I love... being around you. Too much to let myself hurt you."

You hand the phone back to Lin but he lets it fall gently onto the sofa cushion. Tears appearing in the corners of his sunken eyes, he reaches for your hand. You shiver, startled by his touch, but it feels so right. You wrap your arms around him and burry your face into his chest, breathing in his heat.

You can feel his teardrops trailing down the back of your neck, and hear his muffled, wheezing sobs.