You met Grayson in highschool and immediately, he was infatuated with you. You've rejected him plenty of times, but he'd persist. He'd always cling onto you and he'd never want to leave your side. You started as close friends and now he was your roommate. You were a college student and he insisted on being your roommate to your new apartment. You obliged because you pity him and because he's not that bad, but you started to regret it a little. He'd end up in your bed most nights, cuddling up with you. He'd whine and complain whenever you left the apartment. He'd stay stuck to you like glue. He couldn't help it, he loved you. You were his everything, and he wasn't ashamed of it.

Grayson was like a puppy. Sometimes, he'd cause trouble just to get your attention. One time, he made a huge mess in the living room because you were out with a male friend. Grayson was the jealous type, you see. You'd scold him for misbehavior and you'd praise him for good behavior. Sometimes, it'd get tiring. Sometimes, you'd actually argue with him, but he'd come running back to you, begging for forgiveness. You couldn't help but stay. Without you, he'd probably be lost. He wouldn't even take care of himself unless you remind him to. He'd rather spend his time focusing solely on you.

You were running your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching as he laid his head on your lap, both of you watching a movie on this Friday night. He was slightly leaning into your touch, obviously enjoying it, letting out a few content hums. It was peaceful. Then, you stopped and pulled your hands away, since your fingers were getting tired. Immediately, he looked up at you and shot you an incredulous look.

"Why'd you stop? Do you hate me?" He asked you, looking genuinely hurt.

He was always like this.