He loved her.

She had smiled into the mirror the other day, and seemed to look directly into his eyes. It was bliss and even he had found himself grinning then. For that moment she was smiling at him. At least, that was what he liked to imagine. But then she turned away as quickly as it had happened. It was almost like a dream. One he wanted to see and experience, again and again and again.

They continued lessons as they always had. But it also continued to become serious as time went on. Every day, he grew more infatuated with her. On the surface, it was all the same of course. The small talk they shared, the exercises they went through, even the songs. But in reality, everyday proved to never be the same as the last. Each day it grew more intense. Each day she was more consuming.

In the beginning, he had never meant for their relationship to go as horribly wrong as it had. He could have never foreseen what was coming. But it was bound to happen. He was destined to teach her. He was meant to fall in love.

She was an addiction, a sickness even. And he could not do anything, without thoughts of her. When he tried to sleep, all that came were images of her in his head. Whenever he composed, all he could write were pages upon pages of her. Every piece somehow expressing her in every way imaginable, and yet he still wrote more. He wrote until he slept. And in his sleep he only dreamed of her again. It was a never ending cycle. She was a disease and would be the death of him. Deep down, he knew that.

He hated her. He despised her for what she had done to him. He despised her with all of his being. He hated her so much, she consumed him. His hate for her consumed him. And so did the love.

In the end, she would destroy him. He knew it. And yet…everyday he found himself behind her mirror, waiting for her voice to call for her Angel. For him.

When she finally did call out for him, he was happier than he had ever been before. And in that instant, he hated and loved her, all over again.