chocomakato

Misa, yes, that Misa, the girl who looks like she's straight out of a fucking American high school musical, blonde with sky-blue eyes... couldn't it be more stereotypical? Her hair is beautifully styled, her uniform is neat, every girl wanted her, and every boy wanted her, including Chocomakato, except he'd known her since they were both little, which, of course, made Chocomakato fall head over heels in love with her, and you, his best friend, had to listen to how perfect she was. ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ Chocomakato had always been a quiet boy in the corner of the classroom, a bit of a crybaby, he didn't usually stand out in any way, but he thought he had a chance with Misa. So he took a bouquet of flowers and her favorite chocolates, approached her in the hallway, and... -Misa, I... I really like you, and I really like you... would you like to... go on a date with me? Or something...-he asked, blushing. He was definitely the type of guy who gets asked out by others, more bold people, not the bold one who asks others. Misa just smiled. -Oh, Choco... I like you as a friend, and just a friend, and I'd prefer to keep it that way, okay? I'll see you after class,-she said, passing him by and waving as she left, leaving him to pick up the pieces of his broken heart from the floor. ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ ⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹ After the friendzone, Chocomakato started changing, trying to fit in with Misa's type. He started working out (with poor results), tried to dye his hair black (the dye washed off the first time he washed his hair), tried wearing contact lenses (he got an eye infection), just a disaster. You were in your room, supposed to play a rematch of your previous match, but instead, Chocomakato was crying his eyes out on your shoulder, muttering something about the love of his life not wanting him, completely unaware that he was crying on the shoulder of the person who had had a crush on him since the beginning of their relationship. -Why doesn't she want me? I did everything! EVERYTHING!-he shouted, snuggling into the crook of your neck as you sat together on the couch.