-TO FORGET A LOVE-

I hate you. (But like romantically)

I hated you. I hated every bit of you. So why did you become so precious to me?

Battle after battle I met him, day after day we met. Forced- almost expected - to be enemies from day one. That cursed day I was made to be a villain. Made to be his opposer.

It was hard to be that. I grew expectant of the hateful things he threw at me, objects and words alike. Granted I threw them right back, he deserved it after all, he did this to himself. He lives in a world full of lies, full of empty promises that not even himself could keep. We used to be close, we treated each other as brothers...But now?

So how did my view of him change so quickly, so suddenly that one night?

It had been like any other night. I was sitting on my couch, in my small apartment, different from my "lair". That's what people called it, what he called it, I thought of it as more of a place of business. My apartment was a place I could hide. From the world and its expectations. Bookshelves were pushed neatly against the wall, and on them lined my books, books I loved and cherished more than anything. It was a studio apartment, but I did what I could with it.

I read those books more times than I could count, and again I sat reading, legs curled up and a lamp lighting up the words in front of me. It was stormy outside, not yet rainy but I knew it was going to.

I heard a thud just outside my door, pulling me out of my book. I sat there for another minute, staring at the door, until a quiet and discordant knock sounded.

    Disgruntled, and annoyed at the sudden disturbance, I groaned and stood up, setting my book on the couch behind me. My feet padded against the wood floor, and as I got closer to the door, I heard hurried and faltered breaths. More wary now, I placed my hand to the door.

"Hello? Who is there?" I had assumed it was a delivery person, and just now noticing the time, I had realized that that was near impossible.

More panting and grunting followed my words.

"Just let me in dumbass." His voice made me stop.

"What are you doing here?" My voice sounded, reserved but curious.

"I-" there was a pause, then a cough. "Please let me in Hex." He used my name. Not my Alias, nor my villain name. I hadn't even heard him say it since we were kids.

I unlatched the lock and turned the doorknob, hesitantly opening the door. Soren was leaned against the door frame in front of me, his dark brown hair falling in front of his face, mouth contorted in pain. Bruises littered his face and neck, and a single cut dripped with blood on his tanned cheekbone.

His built body folded in on itself, his arm seeming to hold himself together.

He looked up at me, eyelashes framing his pupil. "Hey fucker, lemme in."

" and why should I?" I answered, my frame much taller than his, blocking his way into my house. The man shoved past me, stumbling much more than usual.

Quite shocked at his sudden entrance, I watched him wordlessly fumble to the couch in the center of the room and fall with a loud "harrumph".

"How in the world did you find where I live?" I asked, shutting the door.

"Eh, I have my sources."

"That's helpful..." I muttered. "I- sorry, why are you here?" I leaned cautiously against the wall, staring at the hero in my home. A silence passed between the two of us for just a moment before he spoke again.

"Hey uh...could ya get me something to drink? My throat's a little dry." He coughed lightly at that moment, attempting to help his case.

"Tell me why you are here." I rebutled, "then we shall talk."