#-ship hate

༒ the way their name tastes bitter in your character’s mouth, like a word they only spit out.

༒ that stiff smile reserved only for them. it’s venom.

༒ noticing every single flaw: the too-loud laugh, the tapping foot, the way they breathe. hate turns people into critics.

༒ overhearing them praised and thinking: if only you knew.

༒ the satisfaction of catching them make a mistake, even a small one, and filing it away for later.

༒ those accidental moments of eye contact that feel like a duel.

༒ the petty thrill of calling them by their full name instead of their nickname.

༒ conversation with them feels like walking barefoot on broken glass: sharp, tense, and bleeding patience.

༒ imagining clever comebacks hours later, because hate fuels rehearsals.

༒ taking the long way around a room just to avoid brushing shoulders.

༒ hearing their voice and immediately wanting to leave, no matter how comfortable you were before.

༒ remembering every single thing they ever said wrong, forever.

༒ laughter that’s too sharp, too quick, every joke at their expense sharpened like a blade.

༒ the subtle joy of withholding kindness: not passing the salt, not holding the door.

༒ hating them so much it almost feels like love, because obsession lives in both.