Ewa_Peace
She was the girl who said all the wrong things at all the wrong times.
He was the boy who had no time for anyone, least of all her.
"You think just because you moved in, you can boss everyone around?" I snapped, teeth clenching.
"I don't boss anyone," she shot back, smirk sharp as a knife. "I just say what everyone's thinking."
"Well, maybe some things shouldn't be said!" I growled, stepping closer, jaw tight.
"Maybe some people just can't handle the truth," she hissed, leaning forward. "Including you."
They were forced to live under the same roof now, step-siblings by circumstance, enemies by choice. Every shared hallway, every meal, every accidental brush of hands was a war neither wanted to lose.
And then... everything shifted. One stolen look. One heated argument that ended with lips pressed together in a kiss they both denied but neither could forget.
"We can't-this... this isn't right," he murmured afterward, forehead resting against mine, chest heaving.
"Can't?" I teased, brushing a stray hair from his face. "Or won't?"
"We can't," he insisted, jaw tight, trying to step back, trying to make sense of the chaos in his chest.
"Maybe we can," I whispered, tracing my finger along his arm, daring him, thrilling at the tension. "Maybe we just don't want to."
Hate had always been simple. Desire was chaos. Forbidden. Dangerous. And now, forced to share a home, to see each other every single day, every glance, every word, every accidental touch became a spark ready to ignite.
Enemies. Step-siblings. Completely reckless.
Between prying neighbors, nosy friends, and the relentless rhythm of Lagos, rules were meaningless-and fire had a way of consuming everything.