He loved you so much that he hated it. He hated the way he loved your eyes. He hated the way your smile made him melt. He hated the way you made him feel tingly. He hated that he loved all of you.

You sit by the bonfire, on the grass and leaning against a log, sitting next to a couple of Gladers, that damn adorable smile on your face. The bonfire lights up your eyes, could he be any more drawn to them? He doesn't think so. He can't help it, he stares at you while slowly taking a sip of his drink. He'd never admit how much he likes you, he can only try to convince himself that he hated you. Which everyone knows is a lie.