Something was dying inside of him, Zitao can feel it. A fire, a small flicker of light's slowly fading, leaving the remnants of his tired body cold and lonely. He can see how it affects him, precisely now that he's staring back at his reflection in the restroom, scaring himself with his eyes that are void of emotion. Truthfully; the sorrow overwhelms, marking his fear as a petty emotion occupying a small portion of his heart. 

Mainly, Zitao's heartbroken to see what's left of him— what he genuinely is behind the pretense he puts up in front of Yifan.

A ghost, a shell, an empty vessel, a barren town filled with haunted structures, decaying and lonely. Zitao's becoming what has been relentlessly chasing him, which is why he stops running, and he faces his demons, letting them feast on what remains of him.

Because what's the use of fighting? Zitao cannot see the small glimmer of hope that he's once pursued, so he halts his worn feet, and he resigned to greet his demise.

Every day the monsters rip away a chunk of his soul, and Zitao briefly wonders how long it'll take before he completely disappears. Because it hurts— it hurts to slowly not feel anything anymore.

"Don't forget your beanie Zitao, do you know how cold it is out there?"

Yifan says this as he fixes the said item on the younger, eyes stern and yet mixed with worry, his expression similar to how cinnamon complements fall cocktails. 'Beautiful, surreal,' Zitao ponders of a proper term that will encase Yifan as a whole, and he does this while gazing at the elder intently. He winds out the incessant lecture of the other, focusing his entirety on etching Yifan's face, remembering every blemish and imperfections that make the other human, and the blend of his facial structures that makes him so perfect. Zitao thinks that these are the things that made it easy for him to fall for Yifan, and his personality's the reason why the younger chose to stay.

Yes, Yifan went with the wrong crowd during his high school days, but the elder regretted trying to impress the douchebags, and went back to Zitao after 'the incident.' Since then Yifan had been nothing but sweet and attentive— almost like a lover. Maybe it is why Zitao cannot let go easily, because he thought there's hope despite the man's constant nonchalance toward his confessions. Yifan even used to smile after Zitao declares his love as if he's happy to hear it. And yet, things changed during college. Zitao would receive regretful eyes, gentle rejections that would wound him still, leaving hideous scars that he hides underneath his ribs, adorned around his heart as a relic of his durability. In the end, Zitao realizes that maybe it's his fault too because he stupidly assumed that there was 'something' when in reality there was 'nothing' at all but brotherly love to take.

"Look at this; you're not even listening anymore."

Zitao blinks, and the daze cast on him disappears, leaving him petrified to be caught red-handed. "Uhh, sorry Ge."

Yifan made a noise of disapproval, but then his severe appearance melts into a gummy smile. "Go get coffee before helping out on that play; I would make one for you, but it might take time." He starts circling his thumbs that are on the sides of Zitao's forehead. "I'll give you money, okay? Just don't zone out like this, please? I don't want anything to happen to you."

Unfair, Zitao thinks. Why do you have to be like this?

Yifan leaves him to get his wallet, and Zitao gazes at Yifan with a profound longing that a lifetime won't be able to fill or ease it out of him. Zitao's sure that whoever his beloved adores is the luckiest person on earth. While he, on the other hand, needs to accept his fate that he's doomed to finding the most beautiful art created, only so that it could be his greatest heartbreak.

Yifan watches him leave, his sight following the person who holds his heart disappear once more with a soft close of the door. He sighs heavily after, his heart aching with every shaky breath that leaves his slightly parted mouth. 

Yifan's knew what he's doing— knew what he's breaking, knew who he's breaking. 

But despite all the love he has for Zitao, Yifan doesn't do anything to stop the pain that cuts them both. He couldn't, because naturally, if he did, then it wouldn't be able to kill the sparrow that he dearly adores. The little bird would then remain inside the cage that Yifan is, leading him to live a life he doesn't deserve. Hiding, blending in the shadows, staying beside Yifan even if it meant that he wouldn't ever see the sun again. 

Yifan once heard that he's the sun, but how wrong Zitao was back then.

The older of the two knew that he was nothing more but a hindrance, a cage that Zitao blindly worships because the poor little thing thinks he's all that there is, that Yifan's the world. But the latter's aware, painfully woke, miserably conscious of his role in Zitao's life. He's the sad chapter, the character that will break the protagonist, the unrequited love that would then be a stepping stone for the lead to grow.

But how cruel it is, that in this story, Yifan's also in love with Zitao. That throughout the years, he harbors such tender affection towards his only peach. It grows day by day, and it breaks him each day whenever Zitao confesses. Because why? Why does he have to be the obstacle? Why can't he be the one for Zitao? 

It would be easy if he confesses the sin of falling for the protagonist, but then what would become of Zitao? A caged sparrow? A mesmerizing star neglected behind heavy clouds?

Yifan's selfish, but this time he promised he wouldn't be because it's Zitao. Zitao, the very definition of love. The person who'll willingly put his self behind to be with Yifan. But the elder is having none of that, for Zitao's meant to be someone who'll be remembered by every person, not just by one stupid boy named Yifan. 

Zitao needs to break to move onto the next chapter, and Yifan will remain rooted as he will forever hold onto everything that his peach will begin to hate. For the ashes would serve as their memories left behind, and Icarus would be reborn to soar the sky, leaving behind Yifan who'd keep them. He'd store the ashes inside a jar called his heart, and he'll cherish it until the day he no longer breathes.

Zitao means the world, and no matter how painful it is to love; Yifan will keep on loving the universe that might forget him in the long run.

"What are you doing?" Yixing asks after making a sound of disapproval. "You aren't painting like how I instructed you. You're painting like a five-year-old."

Rough words did not reach its intended victim as Zitao's lost deep within his dull thoughts, hand moving in odd patterns. His eyes are open, yet the yellow lighting doesn't reflect on it, leaving his usually brown orbs dark and lifeless. Yixing's frown is not by just being ignored, but also from seeing the state of the other.

Deftly, the painter made a sidestep to reach the younger man and nudges him by the shoulder. Zitao blinks rapidly, the light in his eyes returning, yet it went into a deeper shade of ebony caused by the irritation he felt when the boy realized who interrupted him.  

"What do you want?" Zitao says in a snarky tone as he delivers a side glare to Yixing.

The older of the two smirks. "Well, glad you are back to the living world. Thought you were a goner for a second."

The business major rolls his eyes, then stares back at the mess he made to the supposed background for the play. "Whatever, you shouldn't interrupt me because I am working."

"Yeah? You mean ruining the background with your poor