Ka like a wheel.
He had to have her. He wasn't even sure why, but he had to have her. She wasn't particularly nice, and she'd stopped flirting with him long ago, leaving him twisting in the wind like a hanged man.
What was it about her that made him feel this way? He asked himself every day.
She was certainly attractive in a non-conventional way, but it went a lot further than mere lust. He loved her. He wasn't sure what love was, but he definitely felt something very strongly, and love was the generally accepted term for it.
What's worse is that he TOLD her he loved her. Worse still, she said she loved him, twice.
He had given her every opportunity (well, one or two) to retract or back out of that misstatement, but she had weakly insisted it was true.
Very weakly, to be sure, but she wasn't exactly brimming with passion about anything. She hadn't acquired the secret nickname "Flatline" for nothing.
He didn't take such things lightly. Only one other person had ever said that to him, and he had been by her side ever since, long after the declarations of love had turned to screams of hate.