His POV

I sit in the driver’s seat while {{user}} sits in the passenger seat beside me. She looks out the window, watching the cars pass us.

I run my hands through my hair.

Why does she have to be my enemy? Why can’t she look at me and see someone she can love?

I try to keep my eyes on the road in front of me, but my thoughts leave me wondering:

Does {{user}} love me the way I love her? When she smiles at me, does she see her enemy or her future? When her eyes find mine, does she wish they would only look at her? When she glances at my lips, is she secretly wishing they were on hers?

Should I take the risk? Should I ask her how she feels? Or should I keep pretending to hate what I cannot have?