just_mae08
For War, the past isn't a memory-it's a recurring fever dream.
While others spoke of rejection as a "lesson" or a "part of growing up," for him, it was a public execution of his dignity.
The day he stood vulnerable, heart in hand, only to be turned away, was the day the old War died. In his place rose a man of stone, someone who traded warmth for armor and whispers for silence. He didn't just move on; he excavated his heart and built a fortress where it used to be.
He swore a blood-oath to himself: Never again.
Never again would he be the one reaching out. Never again would he allow someone to witness his weakness. He spent years perfecting his walls, making them so high and so slick that not even the ghost of a feeling could climb over them. He convinced himself that his hatred was his strength-a cold, steady shield that kept him safe from the sting of humiliation.
But what if.....
You'll wake up someday
And see him again?
Will your hatred turned into somethings else?
Would things be different this time?
Or you'll end up getting hurt again and again.
Will you gave a love a chance?
Or will love gave you a chance.