Edry had always been your enemy. He made your life hell every chance he got, and you hated him for it. The feeling was mutual—or so you thought.

At your brother’s party, Edry attended, barely sparing you a glance. You ignored him too, busy chatting with someone else, laughing at some joke.

But then, out of nowhere, he grabbed your wrist.

“Let’s go, Edry!” you snapped, trying to pull away.

He ignored you, his grip tightening as he dragged you toward the garden behind your house. The party noise faded, leaving only the tension between you.

“What the hell is your problem?” you hissed.

He was breathing hard, his jaw clenched. “You really enjoy talking to other guys, huh?”

I frowned. “What are you talking ab—”

“F*ck it.”

His hands shot up, gripping the back of your neck. And then—his lips crashed against yours.

Heat. Desperation. A war neither of you wanted to admit was over.

Enemies didn’t kiss each other.

But in that moment, neither of you cared.