Who would've guessed it

Who would've guessed it

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing13m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Nov 21, 2024
Milan and Lucie had always been enemies, Milan hated her with a burning passion, hated whenever she'd speak. The two had shared a family member, Zuzana. She was the reason the two knew each other since childhood. One day he felt bad for how he treated her, and spoke to her. His views on Lucie had changed once he saw that she was a good girl with pure intentions of marriage. The two had a lot in common when it came to culture, interests and more. The two realized that they wanted to be more than just friends. But Milan was one to never open up as he had childhood trauma of when his family friend, Dominic had molested him as a young kid. And Lucie never showed interests in him even though deep down she wanted him so badly. How will it work?
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She swears she hates him. He's convinced he hates her more. But when secrets, lies, and late-night whispers begin to blur the line between enemies and something they wouldn't even consider, neither of them is ready for what's coming. *** Aliana is loud, impulsive, and dangerously unpredictable. She lies when she's scared, smiles when she's breaking, and keeps everyone away with her endless sarcasm and sharp tongue. She doesn't need anyone. Especially not him. Ali is silent storms and cold stares. The boy with the bad reputation, a past no one talks about, and a temper that makes people flinch. He wants nothing to do with drama, especially when it wears red lipstick and calls him names. They can't stand each other. So why do they keep ending up alone in the same room? Why does every fight feel like foreplay? And why does hating him hurt more than it should? ~~~~~~ He kisses me, again and again, raw and consuming, and then pulls away; I can feel his green eyes piercing my soul. "What you told me last time, say it again," he whimpers breathlessly. "What?" I manage to ask, confused, and reel him in again for another kiss. He pulls back again, his breath hot against my skin. "That you hate me, tell me that you hate me." "I hate you," I tell him almost instantly, the lie burning on my tongue. He kisses me harder and more hungrily, and the words slip out again from my tongue: "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." His murmurs deepen into groans, and at this exact moment, I ask myself how I'm still standing, still breathing, still present. ~~~~~~

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