[He considers it quietly--considers the laugh, considers the eyes, considers, considers, considers.

His thought bubble is nearly quiet, merely indistinguishable murmurs lurking and nothing more.

Nothing more than a quiet, 'why not?']

...I don't know what I think.

But I know what I want. I want you to be happy.

[...a quiet breath and he looks down for a moment, and his thought bubble drifts-- 'That's all I've ever wanted, so why is it so hard for those that deserve it to find happiness...']

If you can hate me instead of...

Instead of yourself--or anything else. Then...I hope you can.