I. Headaches happen a lot to him. He tries to ignore it, rubs his temples and carries on. It's not like it can be avoided, though. It doesn't go down without a fight. He knows they're stress induced, and these days, he only gets stressed thinking about one thing. 

II. "You'll just leave," he says, turning away from the person that caused him all this trouble, all this pain. He can't believe he's about to invite this person back in, back inside the walls of his heart that took almost three damn years to build. He plays a good facade, but he knows that's just what he'll do. 

Let him back in. 

He has to, it's all he's ever been able to do. He can't function properly without him, and his point is only proven further when Hankyung wraps his arms around him. 

"I'm not going to leave you this time," he says softly. "Never again."

The only problem is, Heechul knows he'll wake up soon and it'll be all over. 


III. He threw away some things, but only some. He can't part with all of it. He simply can't. 

Throwing away the tee shirt was easy. Same with the photos, cards, letters, and the bracelet with the Chinese letters on it. He once cherished that bracelet, with the shiny red beads holding carefully hand painted gold letters. Beautiful was something it was, probably expensive, too. He never did learn what was written on it. 

That's why the necklace struck another chord entirely. 

It had been a gift for White Day, even though Heechul had insisted that he didn't want or need anything. He probably should've saved his breath because he knew he would be recieving one anyway. 

When Hankyung moved his hair and latched the shining silver necklace around Heechul's neck, he picked up the pendant with his fingers. He ran his finger over every in the foreign character. 

"What does it mean? Is this like, tagging me or something? Hell, this could say 'property of Hangeng' and I wouldn't even know."

"Why would I need to tag you when you're already mine?" he asked, an idiotic smile across his face. 

"Smart ," Heechul muttered. He rolled his eyes for good measure, but he too couldn't keep a smile from creeping on his lips. "What does it mean?"

"Hope."

He couldn't throw Hope away. Not yet, at least.

IV. Silence is both a gift and a curse. 

He sits in his room, cross-legged on the bed with a warm cup of tea in his hands. He looks out the window, watching the butterflies, passerbys, and on some days, the rain. He picks up one of the newest novels he bought, but usually abandons it quickly because nothing keeps his interest anymore. He stares at the colorless walls. Once they were crowded with posters, pictures and drawings - those were disposed of when most of the color left his life. 

Ah, but the curse.

The Curse of Silence is that you run out of distractions quickly. When all the books are read and the room is cleaned and all the cracks in the wall are counted, reality catches up to you and hits you hard. 

All the things he should've said crosses his mind; all the things he should've done when he had the chance. 

He wonders if Hankyung knew how much he meant to him. Did he tell him often enough? God knows he meant the world. 

Then the images flash through his brain, of things he doesn't ever want to see. But his brain is a cruel bastard and tortures him anyway, showing him pictures of Hankyung sleeping with women, and sometimes other men. 

That's when the feelings of being forgotten settle in, a feeling he despises. 

V. Heejin stopped asking questions a while ago. Once he had the breakdown, he thinks she got the message. 

"Have you seen what he's been up to lately?" she asked. Heechul had been dodging questions and ignoring her for about fifteen minutes, using the excuse that he needed to concentrate on cooking dinner. But Heejin, always one to get good gossip, kept poking and proding at him.

"Have you listen to his music?" she asked. "It's really something else. Who knew he had it in him."

Heechul was cutting vegetables a little rougher than he should've been. 

"Do you miss him?"

He threw the knife across the counter and turned rapidly to face her. "What the hell do you think, Heejin?"

"I'm sorry," she said, putting her hands up defensivly. "I was only trying to make conversation."

"Conversation? Conversation? I'd rather stab myself with that knife then make conversation about that!"

"Calm down, Heechul."

"What kind of dumb question is that, anyway? Do I miss him? Of course I miss him, every ing day I miss him and it tears me apart! Are you really that dense that you would even have to ask such a stupid question?"

She only stared back. 

"Or are you so ed up that you want to torture me, is that it?" 

When he got no response, he stormed out of the room. Before slamming his door he heard Heejin mumble, "I had no idea."

No one does.

VI. His friends say it looks like the life has been drained out of him. 

His parents say that he's working too hard, to take some vacation time. 

He tells himself it's just a phase, but that's a lie too. 

It's not like one of those cliche chick flicks, where suddenly some new guy comes along, always handsome and rich because that's just what Hollywood wants, and makes you forget all about the last one. He'll have the memories forever, whether he wants them or not. It's not like he can move on, either. Who would want a guy with all this emotional baggage? 

Heejin says not to cry because it's over, but to smile because it happened. Heechul thinks that's a load of bull. 

Maybe one day he'll just cover it up and pretend to move on. But for now, he'll sit on his bed and count the cracks in the wall, no matter how much it hurts.