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Love was like a pot of boiling water with the lid on; it simmered and blistered and would soon spill over if there wasn’t someone else to take the lid off. Dazai would have laughed and answered back that Chuuya’s pot must have exploded by now, the words would stain Chuuya’s lungs and clog his breath, but they would always be true.
Or
3 times Chuuya said "I hate you," and one time he said "I love you," instead.
