.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.
Hate doesn't need reasons: it just needs history.
And they had more than enough of that.
Years of rivalry, of silence laced with tension, of glares held too long and words spoken like weapons.
Their past made hatred not just believable.
It made it inevitable.
But beneath the shouting, beneath the stillness, there was something else.
Something that didn't push, it pulled.
Something neither of them dared to name.
But hate, at its core, is a performance.
And performances always end.
What's left when the curtain falls isn't always clean.
Sometimes, it looks a lot like hunger.
Sometimes, it feels a lot like fear.
.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.
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