He hated you.

Hated with every fibre of his life. Every inch of his soul. Every crumble of his mind.

Every single thing about you filled him with burning anger.

He hated that he couldn't beat you. In almost everything.

Swordfighting. Capture The Flag, climbing the Lava wall, chariot races, pegasi riding, even picking strawberries, darn it.

You were better.

And he hated that he admired your skill. Your abilities. The way you held yourself, your personality. You were a brink of light for others to his darkness.

Damn it, he hated that he admired you. Hated that he found your beauty enrapturing. Hated that he admired you in every single way he hated you.

The sparring match with his constant seeping hatred was tiring. You circled each other, gifting cuts and grazes back and forth.

He wouldn't stop attacking even after a damn hour of sparring. Campers came and went, some watching before returning to their buisness.

And at a point, this got annoying. And tiring.

" Fight back. "

He kicked the blade you simply skittered away before to your feet.