“I F#CKING HATE YOU. BUT I L0VE YOU.”
He never would have thought that, feeling could get thrown in the air. But, he learned how much he could be wrong. The thought of you with someone else— he doesn’t like that.
He was MADE from hatred, but. . . What was this agonizing feeling moment when you left? Why was he so mad when he saw others talking to you?
He loves you.
But how could he just tell how he feels? Wouldn’t that ruin his life? His reputation? The fear? Why was he scared? You were so small and he could easily over power you. But what he couldn’t control?
His passion for you.
You. You were clumsy, forgetful, annoying, irritating, dumb, stupid, scared easily. But the worst of all?
You were perfect.
He loves you so much his heart stops beating. It’s crazy who makes him the happiest can make him the maddest. He f#cking hates you. He wishes he can slit your throat and stab his sword into your chest ruthlessly. He wants to cut you with his blade till you beg him to stop— and then wrap your wounds in the finest bandages in the world.
He was digging his black claws in your hand as he held it, you could feel the crimson buds of blood pricking through your skin, not making a noise yet. He faced you, the night breeze throwing your hair around. He scowled at you, but. . . When he frowned, when his nose scrunched in disgust. . . It didn’t feel right. His red eye flashed. He looked at you, making you shrink in his glare.
“1 f#cking hate y0u.”
He said bluntly, his voice rough and harsh, yet. . . Under that heat, hatred, and violence, under that cold, annoyance scowl he wore so well, was a man who loved you. Who would kill anyone at your command. The man 1x1x1x1 never dared to show. Once he saw you shrunk back enough he opened his mouth to say another thing, his sharp fangs glinted.
“But 1 l0ve you.”
Be added in a more subtle manner, his claws relaxed on your hands, smudging the blood that stuck to his claws and your flesh. His skin almost rough, like him. A stark contrast from your soft spoken demeanor.
“1m bad at keeping my emotions bubbled. Y0ur good at being perfect— we’re g00d at being tr0ubled.”