Paraphernalia
He was never truly looking at her, just at her physical image. Brown hair, sparkling brown eyes, a grin that was contagious and yellow, yellow ribbons. He was never truly listening to her either, chose to shut her out and only complied because of a curt nod from an alien—devoid of emotion—but what were aliens supposed to be like?
He never really cared about her, or anything for that matter except for things concerning him and a shorter, plumper, older student with red hair. He never really minded the brunette until he had to open his mouth and mention something worth mentioning that prompted her to choose him out of all people to be hers. She never really claimed him but felt jealous whenever he handed out his glances elsewhere, always, always avoiding her.
She always covered up the pain that she felt with rash ideas and eccentricity—her usual excuse, "I'm bored,"—leading her into trouble. She would always take her emotions out on everyone, sometimes spewing negativity and sometimes shining with happiness--with a radiance that reached the corners of the room. Her booming voice loud enough for all to hear and coupled with a megaphone one of the most influential. Or scary, whichever you prefer.
She was not one to fear and yet she was. Godlike in a sense, or that's what the Esper called her—that's what everyone called her. But he refused to, no he would not believe it—"Haruhi? God? That's stupid,"—he would mention, scowl, and look away in displeasure. She was not one to call God or Goddess, she was but one to call idiotic and crazy. So he took her as she was, treated her equally and just like every girl he would come into contact with that he wasn't in the least bit interested in. To the Normal boy, she was just a girl—a very weird girl with farfetched ideas—but a girl nonetheless and nothing special or important.
Well, that was until she turned the world around and made it her own—again and again and again—always changing. But there was always one thing that stayed the same. A little bit of consistency that balanced her world and quite possibly the only reasonable explanation for that consistency. She always wanted him to choose between his likes and dislikes. His love and his hate. She always wanted him but never wished it and so it never came true.
And he, well, he was always looking elsewhere.