I Hate You, Conformist (Complete)

Ignore You

----Firkle's pov----

I hate that conformist. The way he smiles. The way he waves in the hallway. The way his raven hairs clings to his forehead when he sweats. The way his laugh fills a room. The way his sky blue eyes shine.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

God damnit!

I can't stop thinking of that fucking conformist. I don't like him. I just hate him. I hate him more than anyone else. That's why I can't stop thinking of him.

That's the only reason.

That's the same reason why I watch him play football with his stupid jock friends from the bleachers. That's why I like to stare at him. It's the very reason I'm drawling his stupid face in my sketchbook like I've done so many times.

There's no other reason.

It's all because I hate him. Nothing else.

I sit there and draw lazily glancing up to see his features to make sure my drawling matches. I try to keep it hidden and do it secretly, but it's kind of hard. Every now and then I stop and stare at him.

I can't help it.

I really, really, really hate Ike Broflovski.