Ryou was sure he hated Mariku with every inch of his soul. He mostly felt it when the man was out of the house, when Ryou woke up to an empty bed for yet another time, when he knew what was happening and so did Mariku but they were both too scared of losing each other to verbalise it. He also hated the man when they were lying in bed together in silence, when there was so much to say but when two cowardly people get romantically involved it means that nothing gets said or figured out. He held both Mariku and himself in contempt for it; he despised how neither of them could say anything out of the fear that they'd lose each other. It was stupid really, how they were so close physically, in the early hours of the morning, but they were so mentally distant that neither one felt real to the other. Ryou wondered whether that was why Mariku slept around so much: he wanted to feel some sort of connection without the awkwardness of an actual commitment. It was just a way for Ryou to shift the blame away from Mariku onto himself, because he couldn't deal without an at least slightly reasonable explanation.

They didn't really understand each other. Ryou didn't understand some of the weird looks Mariku gave Ryou when he said certain things, and Mariku didn't understand how committed his lover still was even when he appeared to not care about being loyal. It left him feeling a little guilty, how he could just cheat knowing full well that Ryou was aware of it, but not guilty enough for him to stop it.

Mariku didn't quite understand why he did it. It was originally just a drunken haze, a night of bad decisions with a morning of 'we don't speak of this ever again'. But he guessed it made him feel more alive, it helped him get away from his silently breaking relationship and he could just pretend it didn't exist in the first place. So, he continued, each time taking less care to make sure that Ryou didn't know until it happened every other night, and the only exchange the two had when he returned in the morning was an awkward glance, a sigh from Ryou and then a guilty look from Mariku. The nights continued on, sometimes with one person in the bed and sometimes with two but there was always a suffocatingly heavy silence hanging over them both, as they tried their best to sleep with someone who they barely knew anymore.

It got to the point where Mariku was at the end of his tether. He couldn't deal with it anymore, and he whispered, "Please can you just leave me."

Ryou turned over, his stomach suddenly full of butterflies as he looked at Mariku. "I don't think I can."

"Why not?" Mariku scoffed. "We both know what's going on. I know you hate me for what I do. I don't blame you, but we can't keep living together and sleeping in the same bed if we can't even speak to each other properly."

Ryou sighed, and rolled over again to look at the plain wall opposite his side of the bed. "Half the time you're not even in this bed with me," he muttered bitterly. "Sorry. I just- I don't know. We're not going to be able to live the rest of our lives like this, right?"

"Right."

"But- I'm scared of change, and I'm even more terrified of being alone. So- I guess this is your call. An old part of me is still in love with you."

"Me too," Mariku mumbled. "...Right."

"Right."

"...Let's sort this out another time." The two men could feel their hearts sink, as Mariku whispered those last few words. They were too cowardly to even casually discuss how their day went, let alone whether they should break it off after half a year of regrettable actions. As Ryou drifted off to sleep, he felt an awful feeling of frustration and bitterness at them both. Neither of them would ever actually discuss it. It would be left to an argument, a violent screaming match of pent up anger and ending in deep hatred for each other.

Ryou hated Mariku, but it was never enough for him to ever try and end their relationship. He preferred the silence, the frustration, to being alone again.