He’s different, these days. You wonder if it was because of his powers, or if he’s always been this way. If this awfulness has always been part of him, lying dormant like a sickness, waiting to sprout to life.

He doesn’t look at you so softly anymore. You wish he would. You miss him, his friendship.

“I’m the apex predator,” he says, and it sounds like an epiphany.

You think he still loves you, beneath it all. How could he not? You love him, even if you’ve never said it.