| COMPLETE | THE SEQUEL 'Hate Me Tomorrow' IS OUT NOW | no translations |
"Tell me about when you do hate me." He insisted.
Our chests were inches apart and his nose was very close to mine. I was looking up at him as he still stood towering over me...
Juliet There's a few POV changes in this chapter, it's also a longer one so get comfy my loves:) ***
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I sat on the couch I'd adopted as my work space as Harry walked back to the piano. I hate him so much. Or at least I tried to convince myself I did.
He's said the worst things to me and treated me horrible but for some reason I still feel drawn to him.
Not every moment with him was as horrible as this one. And I craved daily to have more of the sweet moments with him. I could tell he wasn't as much of as a dick he put out to be.
He had his weak spots.
Music for one. His own music and listening to music in general. Just like me I could tell some songs just set him off. Engulfed us with magical feelings that you can't describe. Like the notes and lyrics of a certain song just perfectly pump through your veins, keeping you alive. He was happiest when we danced together to his...well our favorite songs. We'd found a lot of common ground in music.
Books too! He loved reading. I remember a few times I've read to him for inspiration. He would curl up next to me soaking in the words I read aloud from his favorite books hoping something sparked ideas for his next song.
He would also read to me when I was stressed. I don't know how but he figured my favorite books, bought them and then serenaded me with them when I was having a rough day. Other days he'd ignore my frustration or tell me to suck it up.
It all depended on his mood.
He also loves nail polish. I swear he changes the colors every other day. He's even sent me out to buy him more when he runs out of his favorite colors. I've also let him paint mine when he's liked his too much to change them.
Coffee was another one for sure. But black coffee. He wouldn't drink any other kind. I've made him many pots of black coffee then got an earful when I put cream and sugar in mine.
Me. I'm a weak spot of his, but in the worst way possible. I swear some days he'd kill me if he could and others I'd swear he was going to propose. I could never pin him down to how he felt about me. But to be fair I couldn't pin down how I felt about him either.
I mean just thinking about all these thing I know about makes me heart smile. I cared about him more than I wanted to.
It's scary caring about him because I can never tell if he's being genuine or not.
I feel like my brain is going to explode with everything happening between us.
I would quit for real if I didn't see a gentle, kind spark behind his devilish green eyes.
