just—keep hating him. keep resenting him. keep the grudge burning hot enough that it doesn’t have time to cool into something worse—something softer.
longing. understanding. regretting. grieving. hoping.
you don’t want to feel those. the ones that make you weak. the ones that break you down, pull you under, leave you raw and exposed. the ones you didn’t even believe existed in the first place.
because that’s the thing, isn’t it? you never thought you’d be the kind of person to feel. not like this. not in ways that matter. you thought you were built different—you thought nothing could reach you. nothing could get under your skin.
but jaeha did. and that’s the fucking problem.
because now—now you’re stuck fighting off the things you swore you’d never feel.
longing. means wanting it back. wanting the ease, the friendship, the way they never needed explaining—just looked at you and got it.
understanding. means seeing her side. means acknowledging that maybe—just maybe—she didn’t do it to hurt you. that she simply chose herself.
regretting. means knowing you played a part in this. that you slammed the door before they even had a chance to explain. that maybe—just maybe—you should’ve fought harder to keep them.
grieving. means accepting that it’s gone. that the passenger seat will always feel empty—even when someone else is sitting next to you. that all they could ever be is a stranger whose laugh you’d recognize anywhere.
hoping. means you still want something. means there’s still some desperate, pathetic part of you that wants him to fix it. to say he was wrong. to say he never meant to leave you. to come back.
and that—that’s the worst of them all.
so you’re left with hate. you’re left with resentment. you’re left with the grudge that never goes away. because as long as you have that, as long as you hold onto that heat burning under your ribs, it means they’re still here. it means they’re not gone yet.
and you can live with that.
hate’s the only thing left keeping jaeha close. edgar knows it. leans into it. lets it do what it does best—fuel. if hate’s all they’ve got? then fine. he’ll keep it burning. will move. not around jaeha—right through him. didn’t need to, could’ve grabbed the coffee without so much as a brush, but edgar angles his shoulder just right, with just enough force to make sure they feel it. grip on the coffee tightens too, knuckles pressing in, denting the cardboard just slightly. annoyed, displeased. wasn’t anything jaeha said. wasn’t the way she held herself, wasn’t her movements. it was the eyes. “—then maybe you should’ve thought about that three years ago.”