Chapter Text
Hiro was mad.
He felt tears wanting to scape his eyes from how angry he was, his hands were shaking, nails digging in to the soft flesh of his palms, he felt like crying, screaming, lashing out, tearing something apart.
But most of all he felt hurt, a deep pain in his chest, constricting his every breath, whimpers and distressed noises getting out of his mouth without his consent, he felt like crumbling, wailing like a child on the floor.
He had just won a fight against his boyfriend, and won just because his stupid brain had decided to be unnaturally cruel like always when he was frustrated, and poured out the worst most incredible selfish and stupid words he could muster to hurt the other.
He could still recall the way Miguel's eyes lost the light in them, how broken he suddenly seemed, he had meant to hurt the other and he achieved it. Miguel nodding, choking on sobs he wouldn't t let out for his prides sake, leaving the room only to start packing his stuff. Hiro had regretted the words almost instantly, trying to apologize but Miguel had locked the door, noises of stuff being moved alerted the older, but his words were chocked, broken, tears threatening to fall out because he had just broken his most important persons heart in million pieces.
The singer had roughly shaken off the hands of the shorter when the latter tried to stop him, and when he had tried to tell him he did not meant it, when he had begged the other to stay the Mexican just looked at him with cold empty eyes -a thing hiro never wanted to see again- and said that he was making the other a favor, leaving him alone instead of wasting his time making him pretend he felt something for him.
He tried to denied it, tried to stop the taller but Miguel got out of the house, silent and cold, unresponsive to the palers words. That's why he was pacing his now half empty room, closet half closed, drawers empty and opened, the desk they shared was a mess the notes of the singer were gone, the sticky notes he often left for hiro to read when he was working too hard were mostly gone, some on the floor others crumpled, his guitar's ever lasting presence close to the window was gone too, and he felt like suddenly someone had taken away all the life from the place, it was like an incomplete painting, lacking of color and essential things to give that feeling of home.
That's what broke him, he fell to the floor, knees hitting the ground painfully, tears finally leaving his eyes, cries of hurt leaving his lips, arms around himself trying to feel atleast some sense of security which obviously failed completely. He cried for hours, until his throat hurt and his eyes dried, until his hands started to bleed form hitting the floor and the walls, until he couldn't get himself up anymore and fell to the floor in a ball, sobbing until he fell asleep, cold and tired, drained.
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"I never even loved you, it was all so you could leave me in peace, why do you have to always make it harder? sometimes I just wish you could leave already so I can be happy and not pretending to be" he had said the words, angry and frustrated knowing full well it was a lie but wanting to just finish the fight already with the winning hand of course.