we're supposed to hate each other | technoblade

seven

"we were caught up and lost in all of our vices"

~

sleep held its annoying grip on your eyelids as you stretched. dim light peered through the windows just enough to let you know the sun had not risen yet.

a sharp pain shot up your side. clutching your bandage-covered chest, you fell back into the soft mattress.

it's still early. no one should be up yet.

your thoughts attempted to sway you into carrying out the day as if nothing had happened. your body begged you to rest.

the next thing you knew, you were poking through the clothes in your closet.

"he can't force me to rest, it's my house," you whispered.

deciding on comfortable attire, you hobbled into the bathroom to change. the wind whispered to you through the open window. its song sang the words you needed to hear, yet the words you had grown tired of telling yourself: everything will be alright.

hope is hard to come across when there is little light provided.

in every way you wish it wouldn't, the mirror presented a familiar stranger. you knew them, you had lived with them since birth. still, you weren't quite sure who they were.

you brushed your hair behind your shoulders, them doing the same. you quickly looked away from your reflection to spare yourself the pain. not like it would matter, though; you were up to your chest in hurt.

"very funny, y/n," you smiled to yourself.

as softly as you were able, you climbed down the ladder, tiptoeing into the kitchen to begin making breakfast. although you were injured, you still had guests. it was against your morals to allow them to take on the tasks that should be yours.

sliding the lid of a barrel off and quietly setting it on the ground, you rummaged through it in hopes of finding something worthy of cooking.

"i suppose this will work," you reached for a loaf of bread and potatoes.

once again, the insufferable pain reminded you of your wounds. wincing, you set the foods on the counter.

your body ached from head to toe, still in shock from the effects of the arrow. your head was pounding, your hands were cramping, and to your dismay your thoughts wouldn't be quieting themselves anytime soon.

cutting the potatoes thin enough to pass as shredded, you placed them in a pan over the fire that was still dancing in the fireplace. the heat bounced off of your skin, keeping you warm in the midst of a chilly autumn morning.

you couldn't help but notice a book lying face down on the lip of the fireplace. you had to force yourself off of the floor to reach it, then immediately sat back down.

"the odyssey, eh? i could've sworn i was the only one who liked this story," you joked, flipping the cover over to the first page.

scribbled in questionable cursive on the inside of the cover was the word: technoblade.

"that was the last thing i was expecting."

you turned another page, then read the title of the first book. you had read this story several times in past years, accompanied by the iliad, as a pastime.

clearly this wasn't his first time reading the book, either, as there were annotation marks. they were sparse, but they were there.

a small smile forced its way onto your face when you traced your fingers across a word he had circled in blue ink.