It burns. Burns so hot that Kyuhyun is sometimes surprised he doesn’t just implode. Because it eats at him, eats him from the inside until there is nothing left but pain and anger. Just like ember, never dying out and scorching with every wisp of wind. Only the breeze that fuels him comes in the form of a fundamental human sense. He watches. Watches and isn’t sure which divine power keeps him from combusting because this sort of torture is not something a mortal alone could endure.

Jongwoon, his Jongwoon, and the Chinese transfer student he had thought was nice when he’d first seen him smile. Sin has long ago eaten away any potential camaraderie he might have felt. Now nothing but fire remains. And love. Because there is no other way to describe what he feels for Jongwoon.

And it’s not fair. Because others like him get to talk to Jongwoon when Kyuhyun can’t. And it makes him burn that much hotter, makes him burn green. Because the eye smiles, those pretty crescent moons aren’t directed at him anymore when silly jokes come out of Jongwoon’s mouth. They should be. Zhoumi smiles, but Kyuhyun can tell he doesn’t appreciate it (at least not enough, and Jongwoon deserves so much more than just enough). And that hurts so bad because the only thing that Kyuhyun can do is be still and watch.

But he doesn’t want to. More than anything he wants to move, wants to walk up to the pair and tell Jongwoon that he can give him more. He doesn’t. He can’t. Jongwoon would never believe him, because he is stupid, and biased, and perfect, and he doesn’t want Kyuhyun anymore. And still, as much as that hurts, Kyuhyun still wants him, wants them, enough for both. It is also the reason why he does nothing. Because when you love someone as much as Kyuhyun loves Jongwoon, you let them go. Even if you crumble, and shatter, and burn.

But you don’t avoid, don’t ignore. Because if there is anything left of Kyuhyun’s heart, it wouldn’t be able to handle that. And Jongwoon is so clumsy and stupid that Kyuhyun wouldn’t feel right if he left him alone. That idiot would manage to die from a paper cut if left unsupervised. (Kyuhyun is still amazed the man has managed to live to the age of twenty-four) So he stays, far away, but stays. And watches, burns as the love of his life smiles at somebody else, someone who isn’t him.

Always having to keep out of sight isn’t something he deals with easily, because he wants to hold Jongwoon so, so badly. But he clenches his fists, bites his lips and stays where he is, moving only when he is sure not even a shadow would notice him. Following Jongwoon from a distance has almost become second nature by now (almost, because his hands still itch to reach out, and his heart trembles in fear when he thinks that one day they might stop). He is glad because it makes keeping Jongwoon safe that much easier.

It ensures that he is always at the right place at the right time. He’s lost count of how many times he’s scared guys ten times scarier than himself, turned off the stove the oblivious turtle had of course forgotten was on, or made sure Jongwoon had something in his fridge when he got home from classes. If he had any cooking skills, he would have made the food for him too. (But maybe it is better that he can’t. Jongwoon may be oblivious, but Kyuhyun believes that even he would notice if the food kept cooking itself. He wants to love him from afar, not scare him into insanity.)

But sometimes Jongwoon really doesn’t make things easy for him. Like right now when he parts ways with the sunny man Kyuhyun had at one also point considered a friend. Because the moment Jongwoon thinks he is alone, his whole demeanor changes. Kyuhyun would give his soul if he could just to make sure that an expression of such utter heartbreak never crosses Jongwoon’s face again. That familiar itch has crept up on him again. He wants to hold him, to hug him close and whisper comforting things into his hair. (His whole body trembles as he takes deep breath) He can’t. He has no right to do so. He isn’t Jongwoon’s boyfriend anymore. He isn’t Jongwoon’s anything anymore.

Still, he cannot go away so he keeps at a safe distance and follows him the last two blocks home. No matter the problems his possessiveness has with Zhoumi being so close to Jongwoon, Kyuhyun is still grateful to the man for walking him so far this late at night. The fool he is in love with doesn’t live in the safest of neighborhoods, something that Kyuhyun complained plenty about when they were together, but Jongwoon wanted to keep that aspect of his independence, and Kyuhyun would never take that away from him (even when the thought of it still had discontent singing through his veins).

He scowls as he runs to catch the door Jongwoon has left to close by itself behind him. The damn thing is so old and squeaky Kyuhyun swears his heart stops every time he has to go through them. If there is one thing he is afraid will reveal his presence to Jongwoon, it is this. By some of luck, that hasn’t happened yet.

He closes them behind himself once the elevator doors take Jongwoon’s figure out of his sight and races up the stairs. He’s been doing this for so long he’s as fast as the elevator.

He stops at every floor, just in case someone, a creep, is waiting for the elevator. Thankfully, it is late enough that the floors are empty and no one is loitering around, so Kyuhyun makes it to Jongwoon’s floor out of breath, but content as he watches him unlock the door of his apartment and disappear inside. Knowing there is nothing he can do from here, he relocates.

The fire escape stairwell that doubles as Jongwoon’s balcony is old, rusty and creates even more noise than the apartment building door. Luckily for him, Jongwoon has always hated silence, and his habit of turning the TV on as soon he gets in hasn’t changed. The background noise it creates lets Kyuhyun maneuver himself into a semi-comfortable position that hides him from view but at the same time lets him watch Jongwoon without much difficulty.

Even though it’s been almost half a year since they separated, to Kyuhyun the small apartment still looks empty without all their stuff around, and watching Jongwoon make himself some noodles for dinner somehow just reinforces that feeling. He guesses it’s because Jongwoon was always such a social creature that seeing him alone now just seems unnatural. He bites back the surge of self-loathing at being the source of Jongwoon’s loneliness. (He should have been better. He could have been there and inside if he had been)

Seeing Jongwoon turn on his laptop and put on some cheesy movie soothes his mood a bit. He should have more faith in Jongwoon and him being self-sufficient, but the fact that he doesn’t have to be keeps him doing what he does. He will care for him even if Jongwoon forgets him one day. For now, he just makes himself as comfortable as possible and steels his nerves for the stupidity of the movie Jongwoon chose (he would watch weather forecasts whole day if it meant it made him closer to the other man). Jongwoon laughs at something and Kyuhyun feels his mouth form a small smile (for a moment his heart twitches as if it hasn’t burned out already). There are much worse ways to spend one’s time.

In the end the plot of the movie turns out to be engaging enough that Kyuhyun doesn’t notice that Jongwoon has fallen asleep until he makes no move to close his laptop after it has finished. Waiting for a few minutes to be sure that the other man really is asleep, Kyuhyun carefully opens the balcony door and slips inside. He gives himself a moment of indulgence and watches Jongwoon sleep. For just that one fragment of time nothing hurts.

But he cannot linger. Jongwoon has always been a frightfully light sleeper. So he turns the laptop off, and moves the dirty dishes to the sink. He hesitates a bit before he goes into the bedroom to fetch a blanket and considers it a success when he doesn’t break under the weight of memories. (He trembles, he burns, and he might as well bleed, but he doesn’t break) When Jongwoon doesn’t stir after he’s been covered, Kyuhyun decides he’s done what he could for the night, and for once has the pleasure of leaving through the front door. Only they are unlocked, and it takes everything in him not to curse his ex-boyfriend out loud. Thankfully he still has the keys, so he locks the door behind himself and then scales the fire escape again to make sure that no one but him can enter through the balcony. (The pure possibility of someone else breaking in while Jongwoon sleeps makes him seethe) In the end, the sentimentality of seeing Jongwoon sleeping so close to him finds him spending the night curled in the corner of the balcony.

-

He must have dozed off at some point because a loud noise from the inside abruptly s him back into reality. His first instinct is to check for Jongwoon, second to duck down when he sees him pacing around and speaking on the phone. The foreboding feeling seems misplaced, but everything in him just screams not good! He peers in again. It is hard to make out just what Jongwoon is saying from his position, but he does manage to discern that he is talking to Zhoumi and that alone is enough for the flames to consume him. Out of all the people Jongwoon knows, it just had to be him.

When a police car pulls over by the apartment building everything stops. And starts to make sense. He knows why they are here, why Jongwoon is panicky. He also knows he has to get away (no, no, no no NO!) because all of this is his fault. So he goes down, crosses the street and watches from the distance (as always, the flames whisper across his heart) as Jongwoon talks to the police, as he welcomes the comforting touch of Zhoumi’s hand on his shoulder. For a bitter moment he is glad that because he burns he cannot cry.

And then he is just angry, and alone, and too damn far away. Because he cannot come any closer. The way fates are playing this, he wonders if maybe, just maybe, it would be better if he just stayed away and burned for eternity.

(After all, Jongwoon will never look at him again.)