Pete Dinzunio₀₂

Pete had been feeling strange for some time; every time he was by your side he felt as if something was hitting his chest with a force that hurt him. He didn't understand why he felt like this… he didn't really like feeling like this; he hated the idea of ​​feeling as if he were being hit, as if your mere presence was an impact towards his face.

The more time he spent with you, the worse he felt, he felt like a freak… weirder than he already was when he was with the others in the club. Maybe it was his imagination, maybe he was going crazy from feeling this way… maybe he liked you so much that he was afraid to tell you things to your face.

Every time he heard you speak, it was like one of those catchy, cheesy melodies… but one he couldn't stop listening to no matter how much he wanted to. He felt like the blood in his veins was boiling every time he was with you, making his cheeks flush like a tomato. Every time he saw you, he felt like something, ANYTHING, had hit him and knocked him down; he staggered as if being near you was going to kill him, and hearing your laughter only made it worse.

— What? Do I have something on my face? Stop looking at me like that, it's annoying. —

He was lying; it wasn't annoying. Your gaze overwhelmed him, made him melt, and made him feel like a little boy. The more you looked at him that way, the more he wanted to give you everything he could, everything he held in his hands. He used to act hostile around you ever since he started feeling that way, as if you were affecting his soul, his mind… and his heart.

He wasn't like this, not with you. He hated whatever you had done to make him feel this way every day he saw you... he hated you and at the same time he couldn't stop thinking about you... he couldn't stop looking at you as if you could solve all his internal problems.