A/N: the cherry crack is courtesy of Amochan8878.

I hate everything about you.

Did you know?

I hate your abnormal way of sitting.

I hate your horrid posture that makes my back hurt just looking at you.

I hate that you throw cherries at my head when you're bored.

I hate that you get away with it.

I hate that you don't think it's worthwhile to throw one of your precious strawberries at my head.

I hate the way you restrict my freedom with this chain.

This chain that tears away the skin of my wrist till it's numb.

I hate that that restriction makes me smell the ever-lingering scent of strawberries on your breath.

On your skin.

I hate the pallor of your skin, the pallor that's so pale I almost want to drag you outside by force and make you sit in the sun.

Or touch you.

I hate your eyes.

I hate the way they seem to see everything.

I hate that I know you're always watching me, but I can never catch you doing it.

I hate the way I lose myself when you catch my eyes.

When I'm forced to face what I've done.

I hate the way you hold things.

Like you think everything is out to get you.

I hate how gently you touch those things.

Like you think everything could break under your touch.

I hate that you make me feel like you could make me break.

I hate your hair.

I hate that you never find it necessary to brush it.

I hate that somehow it still manages to look like if I ran my hand through it not a single knot would stop me.

I hate that somehow it still manages to look softer than silk.

I hate your cleaning habits.

I hate that I can't recall ever seeing a toothbrush in your hand.

I hate that I can't help thinking that if I didn't find it necessary to take showers, you wouldn't.

I hate the way you dress.

I hate that every single day you wear the same damn thing.

I hate that I think if I looked in your closet I would see an endless row of white shirts and baggy jeans.

I hate your name.

L.

Who the hell names their kid 'L'?

I hate that I know nothing about you.

But you seem to know everything about me.

I hate that I don't understand you.

Yet you read me perfectly.

I hate that for a whole week you had cameras everywhere in my house.

In my room.

Stalker.

I hate that you took away my privacy.

Voyeur.

I hate your sleeping habits.

I hate your lack of sleeping habits.

I hate that you force everyone around you to bend to what you want.

I hate that you make me stay conscious until I'm a zombie, sitting there staring at a computer screen.

I hate that I have to nearly pass out from exhaustion to convince you to let me sleep.

I hate that your staying awake forces me to think.

Think about you.

And I start to think about it...

I hate everything about you.

Do you know?

I love everything about you.

Why?