Oh god.
I love him. No. No no no. This wasn't meant to happen. This shouldn't have happened. Why him? Why did it have to be him? He'll never love me.
I should have never gotten to know him. I should have never spent that much time alone with him. I should have never learned about his past. I should have never seen him as anything other than a monster.
I should hate him. I should hate his smirk. I should hate his smile. I should hate his laugh. I should hate his eyes. I should hate that he cheats at board games. I should hate the way he sings to 90's music. I should hate his pancakes.
I shouldn't like his little dances. I shouldn't like when he slips and tell me a little more about his family. I shouldn't like when we bicker. I shouldn't like learning about his life before he died. I shouldn't watch old movies with him. I shouldn't waste the day away reading his books. I shouldn't enjoy spending time with him.
I shouldn't love him.
So why do I? Why do I love when he smiles? When he laughs? When he calls me that ridiculous nickname?
Why?
He loves her and will always love her not me. He will never choose me, no one ever chooses me. If we ever get out of here he'll forget all about our friendship and go back to using me, to sacrificing me, whenever she needs him to. I know this. I've always known this. So why does the idea hurt so much more now?
I should push him away. I should make sure he never learns of my feelings. I should stop being friends with him. I should avoid him and the eventual heartbreak that will follow.
I should.
Shouldn't I?