I Hate

You wish he’d just curl up into a ball and die. You hate him that much, or maybe you’re just tired of hating him that much. Either way, it would make things so much easier on you.

But you’re Uchiha Sasuke. You don’t take the easy way out. You can’t.

You don’t know why you can’t, but your very being screams in horror at the idea. Which is pretty hypocritical of it, seeing as how your “very being” didn’t mind teaming up with Orochimaru—kind of, anyway—for power.

It really, really sucks.

You see him and you feel anger and hate and a pathetic, whimpering sadness (why’d he have to kill Mom and Dad and everybody else? Why’d he have to hurt you like this?) that you hate.

“You still don’t hate me enough,” he notes, and there’s something less like anger and more like disappointment in his voice. He has you pinned to the wall with a kunai at your throat and one leg nudged in between yours, and you can’t help but notice the overall sexual image to it.

“Bastard,” you growl and you wish you could just rip his heart right out from where you are, just from sheer willpower alone.

Your eyes are red from the Sharingan, and they meet Itachi’s firmly.

In the back of your mind, you’re absolutely disgusted to realize that you still desperately want his approval. His . . . love?

You hate him.

He lets you go and walks away like he knows that you won’t attack him from behind, not like this, and—

. . . you can’t.

Your fingers won’t reach for your kunai and there’s no strength in your legs, not enough to push you to your feet and make you attack him.

. . .

You hate him.