He mostly just sits back and  watches and he's good at it. He tries to stay low-key because it's exhausting living with a camera in your face. He tries to stay busy to avoid it. 

Sometimes he watches the others, sometimes he watches himself, and a lot of the time he just watches him. He's not really sure what made him start looking in the younger boy's way, and he doesn't really care.

He watches when the other members pick on the boy and he laughs it off. He watches when he cringes as people raise their hands around him. He frowns when he watches these things, but he never says anything; he simply makes sure to keep the other out of harm's way when need be. He watches the appreciative glances he gets and offers a smile in return.

He watches when the boy laughs, and he's sure he's part hyena. He watches the way his nose crinkles slightly and his eyes almost close from simply how big he's smiling. Sometimes when he thinks no one is watching, he'll smile too.

He watches when the boy gets pushed away. It's always B-joo that pushes him away and he can't understand why he keeps trying. No matter what happens his expression never changes from the happy one he wears so often, but Gohn knows better. He watches him enough to see the flash of disappointment in his eyes. B-joo is the boy's best friend after all.

He watches when the boy dances and he's mesmerized. Passion burns in the boy's eyes as he moves his body to anything and everything with a beat. He wonders often where the love of dance comes from, but he never brings it up.

He watches the boy when they attend events. He's very fanservicey. He throws up peace signs and waves to one of the many people shouting his name from every direction. He listens when he's pulled down into whispers time after time and laughs at all of the boy's jokes. 

He watches, as much as he hates to, the boy when he's upset. For some reason he still can't figure out, Gohn is the first one he turns to when something is wrong. It may take the boy a few minutes- and sometimes a few hours- before he'll actually tell him what's on his mind. He doesn't mind waiting. Until then, he simply runs his fingers through the boy's hair and returns his embraces. 

He watches his own fingers as they dance across piano keys and guitar strings. He practices often; he started singing much later than the rest of the members. He watches videos of his favourite artists, watches the time and realizes just how much he's wasted, and somehow he never catches the one that watches him back.

- - -

He watches Gohn more than he would like to admit to anyone, especially himself. He watches the vaugely tender look in his eyes when he stops people from bothering him. He thinks he sees a hint of sadness in his eyes when he offers Gohn a smile, but he's not sure. He never was good at reading emotions.

He watches- rather attempts to- the people in the room when he laughs. Surprisingly enough he's self conscious about it and he fears being annoying. When he's in a particularly good mood his laugh, as he had been told- strikingly resembled a witch. Out of the corner of his eye, sometimes if he's lucky he can catch someone smiling back at him. 

He watches the look in his best friends eyes as he pushed away time after time. He finds it's impossible to read most of the time and he wants to frown, but he doesn't.  He wonders to himself if anyone else can see the disappointment he tries so desperately to hide. Of course they don't. B-joo is his best friend- they always act like this so no one pays them any attention anymore. 

He watches his reflection carefully in the mirror as he releases all of his negative feelings in his favourite way- dancing. He notices his own eyes light up and he can't help but smile. This is his dream, what he loves to do. Sometimes he wonders what turned him on to it all, but he realizes it doesn't matter and closes his eyes as he rolls his hips to the the beat.

He watches the fans when they attend events and he tries his hardest to make sure all of them know he knows they're looking at him. He throws up peace signs and offers little waves and a smile that he's been told melts hearts. He wouldn't know. With the horrible joke he just told Gohn, he's not sure he's capable of melting any hearts. Gohn laughs anyways. He always does.

He watches to make sure Gohn isn't busy before he approaches him when he's sad. He's unsure why he finds Gohn's warmth so much more comforting than that of his own best friend. He doesn't usually care. Still, he fears being a bother and clams up instead of talking, but the older boy is always patient with him. Fingers run through his hair as he presses himself harder into Gohn's arms. When he decides to finally talk, Gohn listens patiently. He's always so patient with him. Sometimes he wonders why Gohn isn't his best friend. 

He watches when Gohn practices, but always makes sure there's no one watching him in return. When he's sure, he closes his eyes and listens. Some days it's piano notes, some days it's guitar strums, some days it's vocals he was sure belonged to an angel, and on his favourite days, it was all three. 

- - -

Today he decided to practice the song he wrote. A love song. A ballad. Another song for the album. It was different things to different people. For him, it was the only way he knew how to say what was on his mind.

- - -

Today was one of his favourite days, it seemed. They didn't sing it on stage often, but today it seemed like Cigarette was the song of the day. He let the lyrics sink in, much nicer in Gohn's own voice he thought. He realizes no one ever found out why Gohn wrote the song or who it was about. He was feeling lucky today.

He watches how utterly happy and peaceful Gohn looks when he sings and something stirs inside him, but he's not sure what. 

- - -

He's singing with all he's got, one person and one thing on his mind. When he finally stops he takes a deep breath before looking up and hearing a shuffle in the room with him. He tenses at first, an automatic response, but when the boy says his name, he relaxes and turns around so fast he's surprised he didn't give himself whiplash.

- - -

He feels brave. He feels brave. He tells himself this over and over again in his mind before he walks over to Gohn and sits on the piano bench next to him. He wraps his arm around his, laying his head on his shoulder. He asks him who the song is about, as it's obviously about somebody, and he feels Gohn tense.

- - -

He watches as the boy crosses the small distance between them and nuzzles himself into his arm as usual as he takes a seat. He feels every muscle in his body freeze when the boy asks him a question he wasn't prepared to answer. He prays to god he doesn't notice, but he knows it's not likely. 

He thinks about all the times he's been alone with the boy and not said anything. He thinks about all the times he's wanted to say something but just couldn't find the words, the courage, or the right time. The perfect opportunity was before him now and he didn't know if he was brave enough to take the chance. 

He feels brave. He feels brave. He tells himself this over and over again before he lifts his free hand and tilts the boys face upwards. He notices that he doesn't flinch like he normally does.  He tries his absolute hardest to make his hand stop shaking, but he's not sure it's working. 

- - -

He watches Gohn's hand out of the corner of his eye and when he finds his chin tilted up by it, he gives him the softest and quite possibly most unreadable look he's ever given anyone. He may at reading emotions, but he can see the nervousness, the anxiety, the tension, and something he can't quite place. 

- - -

He in a deep breath before he begins to lower his face to meet the boys. He would have gotten further than a few centimetres had the door not opened with a rather loud crack as it hit the wall and the noise caused him to jump back instantly. It was the boy's best friend, and he wished he could glare literal daggers at him. He watches B-joo convince the boy to come with him and he watches the boy smile at him before he apologizes and all but bounces to his friend.

He watches the door shut and it takes him a moment to register exactly what happened. When he does, he's glad there's not a mirror in his office so he can't watch himself lower his face into his hands. He barely manages to keep from letting the tears that were begging to break free go. No, he wouldn't cry. When he gathers his thoughts again, he grabs his coat and leaves his office. 

He watches the sunset as he stands in the most reclusive area he could find on the grounds. He knows he's not allowed to be doing this, he knows it'll ruin his voice, but he doesn't care. Today is like every other day he's had since realized exactly what it was he was feeling. 

He watches the cigarette smoke rise, thinking of the boy.  It was such a short cigarette and his mind was only free for a short time. With every draw he took, he hoped his feelings would dissolve quickly just like the smoke. 

They never did.