"Do you hate me?"
You stare at him for an eternity. And to think, you were about to reassure him, no of course not you're my friend and nothing could change that, what a load of bull. You keep up the friendship act with everyone. Hell, even with fucking Damara! But Cronus? No. You hate his shitty fake paper twists and his shitty two-bit songs and his shitty as fuck negging habits. You hate his slicked back pompous hair and the way he smells like expensive aftershave and how he bites his lip when you get upset.
"Do you hate me, Latula."
He doesn't look upset or sad or curious or anything that would merit sympathy. He looks like he's challenging you, like he's waiting for one fist in his face and another in his pants. Your blood boils.
"Do you hate me?"
You stare at him a while longer and your chest implodes.
"No. I fucking loathe you."
You pull him by the roots of his hair and bite a hole through the corner of his lip.