A thought process that's been gnawing at me (and Hibari-muse) for a while. Ended up not quite so bitter as I had expected. Though most people can't tell the difference between my Hibari's bitter and sweet . . .

A noise sounded, foreign yet at the same time familiar, and in an instant Hibari was awake and fully aware. That incessant, rhythmic buzzing was not the way Hibari wanted to be woken up in the morning. The one the sound was meant to alert was not so quick on the uptake; he shifted slightly and grumbled some nonsense that likely wouldn't have made sense even if Hibari was fluent in Italian, but otherwise was unresponsive. Another buzz, and his eyes opened blearily, still another before comprehension seemed to finally dawn on him. Once he finally seemed to realize what the noise meant, Dino sat up quickly, reaching over Hibari-who was still lying in his previous position, this routine all too familiar to him-and groping blindly at the bedside table until his hand found the vibrating phone.

"H-hello?" he stumbled out as soon as the reward for his efforts had been obtained, the sound of sleep still heavy on his breath. "Ah...Is it that time already?" Hibari didn't have to see Dino to know where the regretful gaze that always accompanied that tone was aimed. "...Yeah...Yeah...I know, I won't...Yeah, I'll be down in a few minutes." He hung up the phone, and released a heavy sigh.

It wasn't until Dino was already off the bed and putting his clothes back on that Hibari spoke, still unmoving. "Don't take so long to answer next time. That sound is annoying."

Unsurprised by the sound of Hibari's voice, Dino offered only a quiet chuckle and a half-hearted promise of, "I'll try. Not everyone wakes up at the drop of a pin."

A silence came over the room, the same silence that always did. For Dino, it seemed to be almost awkward, and at the very least pained. It was obvious he didn't want to leave, and felt guilty for doing so as quickly as he had to. For Hibari, it was just a silence; nothing more, nothing less.

Once he was fully dressed, Dino sighed again, and made his way back over to the bed. Still, Hibari had not moved, though he didn't resist when Dino turned his face and kissed his forehead lightly, offering a sickeningly sincere, "I love you, Kyouya. I'll come back as soon as I can." And with that, he was gone.

Quiet mornings of hushed goodbyes seemed to infest the time they spent together, and like any infestation they grew more and more common as time wore on.

But that particular infestation was one Hibari had no trouble handling; it was the infectious words Dino spoke so often that he truly loathed.

"I love you, Kyouya."

From the first time he had said it, Hibari had made it clear he didn't want it to be said, and nearly every time he had the nerve to say it for quite some time after that had been rewarded with some sort of physical harm. And still Dino said it, again and again, "I love you, Kyouya."

Eventually, it had proved pointless to attack the persistent man for it, but that didn't mean Hibari hated hearing it any less, and he still told Dino on a regular basis not to say it, to no avail. Around the beginning, he had asked why Hibari was so opposed to the phrase. At the time, he hadn't had an answer, and had thus ignored the question altogether. He hadn't really thought about the reason behind his dislike for the words, or really the singular word, love, but he knew that it brought a sick sensation to the pit of his stomach, like acid subtly burning its way through him. Eventually, he had found a satisfactory explanation.

"This so-called 'love' isn't real unless it's mutual," he had offered, sure of his words, "and a carnivore doesn't have the capacity to give itself so wholly as your version of love requires. You aren't allowed to love me." Dino's response had been to kiss his neck and utter those words, his tone somber, resigned to his fate.

"I love you, Kyouya."

He was impossible to deter. But then, that was likely the only reason he had made it so far as Hibari's bedroom in the first place, and the only reason he was allowed to return, time and time again, in spite of how insufferable he made a point of being. These allowances were mistaken for affection by the obsessive Italian, no matter what Hibari ever said to the contrary. But the reality of it was, aside from that acidic feeling at the sound of the hated word, Hibari felt no particularly strong emotion regarding Dino.

All of the days spent fighting or relaxing on Namimori's rooftop, all the nights spent in Hibari's bed, all the words exchanged and somewhat meaningful glances, all the long conversations and stretches of silence, every last moment that Dino was so glad to have and be a part of, Hibari merely tolerated.

He didn't love Dino. He didn't even like him. No, he tolerated Dino.

He tolerated Dino more than he could ever tolerate anyone else.