Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. Seriously, writing fanfiction for your own writing would just kill the whole point of fanfiction.
Warnings: Shounen-ai, angst. Takes place sometime after Soul Society Arc.
The Thin Line
Hitsugaya Toushiro hated Ichimaru Gin.
He hated him for hurting Hinamori, who Hitsugaya cherished.
Hated him for helping Aizen, for dashing all hopes that despite his many oddities and shady behavior, that the man was at least on the right side. Not that Hitsugaya was quite sure which side that was right now.
He hated him for hurting Matsumoto, for being able to rattle his usually unshakeable vice-captain.
He hated him for turning his world upside-down the moment he laid eyes on him.
Hitsugaya hated how the silvery-haired captain had made his knees go weak, raged silently at him as the simple brush of their sleeves in the hallways of Seireitei sent goose bumps through his arm.
He hated him for throwing all of it away – all the almost-kisses, all the touches that were just a little too intimate to be normal, everything that represented their twisted shadow of a relationship.
Most of all, Hitsugaya hated Gin for leaving him with a broken heart, without so much as a good-bye.
Yes, Hitsugaya Toushiro hated Ichimaru Gin.
But there's a thin line between love and hate.
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Owari.
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A/N: First Bleach fanfiction I've written, and hopefully the first of many to come. I hope I haven't skewed the characterization too much, love interests aside.