He hated me since day one

He hated me. And not in a "playful teasing" kind of way. I mean full-on, obvious, can-see-it-in-his-eyes hate.

Even as kids, every time our paths crossed, it was like a battle waiting to happen. I hated him just as much. He was loud, stubborn, and ridiculously infuriating-and I made it my personal mission to annoy him back. Every glare, every shove, every argument was a little war between us, and somehow, neither of us ever backed down.

Years passed, and nothing changed. Same school, same fights. He hated me more than anyone else ever could, and I hated him just as fiercely. Honestly, I didn't even know why we couldn't stand each other-it just... worked that way.

But lately, things started feeling different. His glares lasted a fraction longer than before, his anger seemed... softer at times, and I caught him staring when he thought I wasn't looking. And maybe, just maybe, I noticed myself doing the same thing-hating him less than I used to, or at least, hating the way he made my heart beat faster.

Hate was supposed to be simple. But when your worst enemy starts acting like something more, everything gets complicated.

And maybe, just maybe, we had outgrown the hate.