It had all started with a diary.

Your diary, to be precise. I had lent you something and had gone to your house to ask it back after waiting for months. You sheepishly told me that you had lent it to someone else, and so you zoomed off to find it. While you were gone I explored your house. That's when I found it. The diary.

Obviously I couldn't resist. I just had to flip it open and read. The entries were dated back to eight years ago, and stopped only three months after it had been started. I was curious. I pocketed the diary just as you zoomed into the room, holding the item.

The things I read inside… I just couldn't believe them. Pages upon pages a day scrawled in your messy handwriting onto the paper, things I never would have imagined you knew, fears and emotions I never knew you would have felt.

I wanted to burn the thing and throw it as far away from me as I could after I had read only two pages, but my curiosity and the passion and honest truth of which you wrote just took me over. Hours later I read the last page and closed the book slowly, flustered and confused.

That's when it really began.

I began watching you, keeping a closer eye on you, practically stalking you. I knew it was wrong, I knew it was none of my business, but I just had to know.

I had to know whether you still loved the person you wrote about so much in your diary or not.

I followed you silently wherever you went. Remember all those times you turned around, thinking there was someone behind you? There was. Me.

I admit it wasn't easy. You hardly stayed in one place long, and when you did you took FOREVER. I remember hiding in uncomfortable positions in leafy branches, behind bushes, on top of buildings, even inside a tree trunk once. And then you always left in such a hurry. I could never tell when you were going to leave. You could be in one place having a nap then in the next second you could be up and gone.

I think it was only then that I really started noticing you. It didn't all come at once; they just crept up to me sneakily and took me from behind. I started noticing subtle things that I had never noticed before or never really cared about, like the way your spikes tilted back as a certain angle, how they were so soft yet sharp, how your mouth quirked up in a mischievous, almost daring way whenever you smiled, the way you always put on a mask of cheerfulness whenever you met your friends… The way you always put on a façade of optimism every time you were with your friends and you had to fight off enemies when really all you wanted to do was scream and collapse, because the responsibility was too much for you, because you just wanted to live a normal life like you had before. Sometimes I heard you talk to yourself when you were alone. You wished you didn't have the gift you had, the gift of speed. You wished that there was someone else who you could give all that responsibility to because you were so sick of it all. So sick of having to fight again and again, accomplishing hardly anything while in the meantime you watched family or friends die or worse, be roboticized.

I watched all of it, heard it all. And in my heart I felt sorrow for you, for everything you had gone through. I felt sorrow for the child that had been forced to maturity so quickly, the child that had really been an adult all along but had never shown it. Sometimes I had wanted to simply walk up to you and comfort you and stroke your beautiful blue spikes and cradle you in my arms and tell you everything was all right. I felt a somehow familiar ache in my chest every time I saw you sitting there, looking so alone and lost, because that's exactly how you felt.

I couldn't believe it when I finally recognized the feelings I was having. I couldn't believe what the feelings meant. I mean they couldn't have been real, right? I already had someone who loved me, someone who I loved back with all my heart. But apparently I hadn't loved them as much as I thought I did.

I couldn't believe that I had fallen for you. For Sonic the Hedgehog.

I couldn't explain what was happening to me that day that I actually did approach you. You were talking to yourself again. All I remember was feeling that aching feeling again then, before I knew it, I was standing in front of you.

You looked up in surprise. I caught a glimpse of the sadness and infuriation in your eyes, then in a split second they were quickly and carefully hidden behind a shield of curiosity.

I had no idea what I was saying. I just… I lost control. It was like I was in a daze, because that's sure how I felt. Seconds passed, and the next thing I knew you were smiling and nodding, then inviting me into your house.

I sat on your sofa and you offered me a Coke. We talked, and for the first time you were serious and listened.

I wondered at times where the immature, joking, impulsive you had gone to and if 'he' had even been there in the first place.

Our tense relationship relaxed, and slowly our bonds of friendship became stronger and stronger. We made it a point to see each other every day, to talk and just 'hang out'.

You know, I never really did find out if you still loved that person in your diary. If you still loved Antoine D'Coolette.

It wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't Antoine D'Coolette.

But I am.

A/N: I have no idea whether Sonic drinks Coke or not. Probably does, I mean he needs the energy you know…

My fave slash pair is actually Sonic/Knux… but then it would have been too obvious, wouldn't it? ;)

No flaming please!