Ron stared at her across the fence, her hair no longer its frizzed self but settled in an elegant bun at the base of her neck, her eyes barely distinguishable. Running to her seemed the perfect option, gathering her in his arms and never letting go. It would be like in those Muggle movies she used to make him watch where the unrequited love never triumphed. But that's what they always would be, unrequited.
He watched as her lips curved into a smile, the handsome Muggle man across from her at the cafe smiling slightly at his own joke. Ron felt himself turn crimson and willed himself to look away. Ten more seconds, he told himself, nine, eight, seven – he didn't want to leave – six, five, four, three – he prepared himself, spreading his legs out in an action stance – two, one. He caught a last glance of her face and was whisked away as he Apparated.
Breathing heavily, he thudded to the ground, his knees collapsing beneath him. He could feel the tears at the backs of his eyes and pressed his palms down on his eyelids. Stupid, he thought silently, shaking himself. He could still see the etch of her smile indented into his brain, her tiny freckles perfect stars on her face.
He wished he didn't have to be like this, stolen glances to keep him sane and hopeful thoughts entering his mind. Seeing her inside the Muggle world made him realise that what he'd done to protect her was the right thing. It hit him like the Cruciatus curse, igniting every bone in his body until it was hard to breath and he felt like he would rather die than live on a planet like this.
When these moments happened he had to learn to breath, how to walk and talk like a normal human being. He sometimes tried a Patronus but it was so weak he couldn't even see his Jack Russell take form before it disappeared as though it were a wisp of smoke. She ruined him and he resented the part of himself that did what he did. He knew it was right but it he wished there were some way to make her disappear from his mind like he had from hers.
The Burrow's lights were off – a clear sign that everyone was sleeping. Ron crawled towards the door, his heart hammering inside his chest. If someone found him. When he reached the door a light switched on; he looked above him and saw Ginny, her face a shadow against the deep navy sky, her hair tide back. For a moment he thought she couldn't see him against the cover of the roof, but he saw a faint nod of her head that told him she'd seen him and that she wasn't impressed.
There was no other option but to proceed into the house like he had planned. Ron inched the door open, hearing the faint creak of the rusting metal. At first he saw nothing, but his eyes adjusted and he saw the form of Ginny, her arms crossed in an expression so like their mother's.
"Ron," she said exasperatedly, as though this had happened a thousand times.
"Ginny, I had to." Ron collapsed onto the couch. He felt as though he were nothing and that the couch would swallow him up. But it didn't.
"Ron, you know you can't see her. It was part of the deal."
"I know the deal!" Ron half-shouted, his voice hoarse. Ginny gave him a warning look. He felt his arms shaking violently and balled them into fists in his lap.
"Ron, she's happy. It's what we all wanted. She was being destroyed and you saved her. But you can't keep playing the hero. It's over." Ron nodded, his eyes bleary.
"Do you know what it's like, being me?" Ron enquired, not looking at Ginny.
"I can imagine –" Ginny began.
"No, you can't imagine Gin. It's like every single bone in my body is burning and there's nothing, not a speck of Healing that'll fix it. It's eating me away, silently, slowly and painfully. I don't think you can imagine what that feels like," he spat at her.
"She was my best friend Ron," Ginny began.
"Yeah but you didn't love her!" Ron bit at his tongue the moment he said the words and tasted blood inside his mouth. It was hard enough thinking he loved her but actually physically saying the words were like his kryptonite.
"Ron you can't –"
"I can't control how I feel Ginny!" Ron shouted, his breaths rushed and heavy. He got to his feet and stomped away, not looking back.
"Ron you can't control how you feel about Hermione," Ginny whispered, her voice barely audible, crackled by tears.
"Then why the hell can everyone else?" Ron heard lights upstairs turn on but he didn't pay attention. He forced his head forward, tears blearing his eyes. He briefly caught a glance of George looking shocked before he crawled up into his attic bedroom and wrapped his arms around his legs, rocking back and forth like a child, tear stains smeared all over his orange sheets.