we're supposed to hate each other | technoblade

three

"throw yourself into the unknown with pace and a fury defiant"

~

"phil?"

"y/n?"

your eyes met with your lifelong friend in front of you, both of you speechless.

you could still feel techno's eyes glued to you.

"y/n? w-" phil's wings fluttered nervously, "what are you doing here?" his eyes drifted to techno.

looking over your shoulder, you could see the faint shimmer of techno's golden crown laying in the snow. slowly, you lifted yourself from your enemy, standing on your own feet once again.

"i-" you searched for an answer, but were left empty handed.

"i was just questioning him," you contemplated lying, but went with the truth instead.

well, mostly the truth, minus the death and arson part.

"could you give us a moment, phil? i'll be right with you after," techno brushed dirt off of his shirt.

reluctant at first, phil took a few slow steps backwards before ascending up the ladder once more.

"now, where were we," his tone was harsh, just like the hand you slapped his face with.

"how could you! do you have any idea what you did?"

"i was simply helping you out, that's all. now, if you don't mind, i'll be getting my crown that you kindly threw into the snow," he stepped outside.

standing in the doorframe, you watched as he adjusted his crown on his head. the moonlight illuminated the scene perfectly. the wind blew his long, pink braid ever so softly.

"helping us? you could've killed people!" you shouted.

now it was your turn for your hair to be blown in the wind.

"governments are how people get hurt, not explosions," he took a bite of a golden apple.

"now it seems as though you're using anarchy as an excuse for violence instead of actually conveying the message!" you called out over the wind.

he tossed the apple to the side, disappearing into the snow. his eyes met yours once again.

"violence is the only universal language," his tone was serious.

he couldn't be serious. what was he, crazy?

"you're heartless!"

"and you're exasperating"

"i should've killed you when i had the chance"

"come to think of it, i should've blew up your house instead of that stupid fountain"

"i can't believe you," you shouted at the piglin that was now standing directly in front of you.

you shivered slightly under his gaze.

"say, how's tommy?"

the change in topics nearly gave you whiplash.

"really? you want to talk about tommy? he's perfectly fine, if you insist on knowing," you hissed, gritting your teeth.

"good, i'm glad to know those gapples helped him out."

you raised a brow. suddenly, it hit.

the golden apple from before. you had wondered where tommy got it from, as well as why he was hesitant to tell you who it was from. it all made sense.