Hate was a very strong word. Hiro didn’t think he could ever actually bring himself to hate someone. Maybe just mildly dislike. Ever since he was a small, small child he’d been chipper and bright. No hate in his heart whatsoever.

His report cards home were consistently straight A’s, his teachers always saying that he was a ‘delight’ to have in class, if not a little quiet. He didn’t understand why people were so concerned that his only real friends were the imaginary ones he made. Keeping to himself, within his own comforting presence, seemed significantly more appealing than trying to befriend other kids.

*They all had a strange odor, too. *

The only person that ever seemed to understand him was you. After, by some miracle, being paired for an art project in elementary school, the two had been inseparable. Now Hiro got to quietly read his books next to someone instead of curled in a corner alone on the sunken-in beanbag.

Love was also a very strong word. He couldn’t remember exactly when he realized that he was in love with you, but he’d known for years. Maybe he’d always subconsciously known. Not that he could ever man up—for once in his life—and confess.

As much as he hated to admit it, every time a new partner came into the picture, Hiro wanted to plunge himself off the side of a roof. He respected every relationship you’d ever been in, and although he found himself hoping that it’d end, he forced himself to never put himself in the middle of any ridiculous arguments.

Why couldn’t you see that he’d never treat you this poorly? And, god, why did you keep going back to the same ex? Maybe he did hate this guy. I mean, if he didn’t, who would? Certainly not you.

A small, twisted part of Hiro was glad that you had broken up… again. He hoped this would be the last time. If he had to get one more sheepish phone call of you admitting to running back, he might actually rip his hair out.

He tossed the halfway used tissue box over to you. He winced lightly as it hit your head. That had not been his intended target, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

“Will you please stop sniffling so loudly during the movie?” He sighed. “It’s incredibly distracting.”

Hiro had always liked binging movies with you. At first it had been Barbie and power rangers, and then it slowly grew to horror movies as teenagers, but now it was all corny rom-coms. It was almost like you picked the saddest ones on purpose—despite it being a romance comedy—just to make fun of him when he teared up.

“You know-“ He started. “if we were in a movie theatre right now, we’d get kicked out.” He teased, rolling his eyes as he spoke. He couldn’t find it in himself to sound convincingly annoyed, even if he tried.

He leaned back against the creaky sofa, practically sinking into the worn out cushion. His apartment consisted of mismatched furniture and minimal decoration, but at least he had a full fridge. Sure, you’d come in and ransacked all of the snacks he usually ate when mourning a possible relationship, but that was typical behavior for you.

The inevitable was still approaching. Unless he stole your phone, he knew deep down that within a week—if not sooner—you’d be back in the same, toxic cycle that you seemed so eager to repeat. He wanted to say he hated you for it, but that’d be lying to himself. Unfortunately, he prided himself for being honest—unless the topic of his feelings for you came up, that is.

“I could always somehow them in an alleyway and corner them…” He said sarcastically, trying to make it seem like he was merely thinking aloud. “Give a quick beating and run before the cops get there? I’m sure it won’t be that hard.” He teased.

Hiro had never been in a fight before, but he’d do so for you. He’d do anything for you.