I always loved nitori
Not because of his looks
Not because of anything but his virtue.
He was so misterious.
So so friendly to whoever he talked to...
Yes i may seem like a stocker but something something about him had an aura of hurt or regret.
It put me in much pain whenever he had an expression as if he were ready to cry. He never did. Not once. It seemed rare if he talked to someone. When he did that someone was me. I talked to him. Oh how wonderful he was. He would talk as if he has read every book in the world. Wich in fact i think he did. So modest.
So fragile. His nose would wrinkle in the slightest if he were to get mad. His cheeks would burn dark  red if i were to complement how he looked. Over time we became verry close. To close. We wouldnt go anywere withought each other. We wouldnt talk to anyone. Besides each other. We were unseperatable. I was the one to blend into the shadows while he was the one that stood out. Nitori told great stories. He did. He told stories about lost love. Freadom. Desire. War . Myths. All kinds.
His stories always had a twist when you least expected. If you knew him enough you would tell that there was a diference in his stories. Some he refered to as one of his own experiences. While others he made up as he went along. Oh how i miss his stories. How i miss .....him. How much i miss him so. Nitori.