I saw this little thing on Tumblr, it was some IZ fan-art, and it gave me an idea for a really short story.
Their name is my-poor-insane, if you would like to see what I'm talking about :) Enjoy!
"I hate you!"
The phrase was so desperate. The words spewed out of his mouth with a mixture of hatred and caring. Hidden beneath it was a plea for the boy to come back to reality. It had been a while.
"Uh-huh."
Zim glared at Dib, his fists tightening as he bit his lip in frustration. How could he say that? They were enemy's, weren't they? Zim was all Dib had, and Dib was all Zim had. So why was he being ignored? Being forgotten?
"D-Did you hear me…? I said I hate you, you filthy stink monkey!"
This was even more desperate.
A last attempt.
A sign.
Zim felt his antenna's droop, he felt his whole body become weak, and he hated that about himself. He shouldn't be able to feel this way. He shouldn't be able to get so upset over him. Zim knew this reply would probably be his last, and he hated that he was waiting for the answer, clinging on to any hope that Dib was still there.
"I don't care."
No.
No way.
This wasn't happening.
Zim let this reply soak in. He could have fallen down. He could have even cried. But he couldn't, because it wasn't alright for Dib to not care anymore. Zim felt his anguish turn into rage as he extended his arm and struck Dibs cheek.
You should care.
