Graves never liked you. He hated the way you spoke, and the way you carried yourself. He hated the way you smiled, the way everyone liked you, the way you were kind, he hated the way you looked at him.

He hated the way he looked at you. He hated the way he liked you. God, did he hate you.

You greeted him in the morning, and you were met with a scowl and a scoff from him. You wonder if you did something wrong, or if he's always been like this. To you, no one else. He wants you, no one else.