I feel like I suck at drabbles lol. But I like them either way. It's a nice way to get some writting out real quick when you're in the mood!^-^ Almost refreshing. Anywho this is just a quick DxH drabble cause I love them so! Might do another soon...any suggestions?
Hope you,
Enjoy!
Hate
Heather hates Duncan. Duncan hates Heather. Plain and simple.
Heather hates the way that she was the first one that caught his eye with that dark gaze sliding all over her body and his cocky call, "Meet you by the campfire gorgeous!"
Duncan hates her quick and flamboyant rejection, "Get bent loser."
Heather hates his smart-ass, crude, sarcasm that comes with every single thing he has to say.
Duncan hates her whining and bitching and how every single thing is about, how she will do whatever it takes to win.
In the end they both just wish the other would shut the hell up.
She hates his stupid relationships with the CIT know-it-all skank and that loser loner-goth wannabe. And it's only because one is clichéd and the other just makes her wanna gag.
He hates her stupid obvious crush on the pretty Latin playboy. Only because his hungry dark gaze on her resembles the one he has for her...Used to have!
She hates the color blue. But it can't be any kind of blue. It has to be the dark kind of blue. The kind that resembles the twilight just before night falls and the first few stars come out. The kind that bores into her angrily…and sometimes, she thinks, lustfully.
He hates the color gray. And not any kind of gray. It has to be the pale silver kind of gray. The kind right after the storm where the clouds roll away and there is nothing left but wetness and the calm tranquility that the worst is over. The kind that sometimes looks to him curiously with just the faintest hint of intrigue…he likes to think of it as a look full of possibilities.
She hates his torn, rough; I-don't-give-a-shit sense of style. What's with those skulls? What's with the green mowhak? What's with those piercings? What's with the spikes? Freak.
He hates her, I-can-get-whatever-I-want-cause-I-dress-like-this sense of style. Mainly cause it's kinda true. After all look at that taught midsection. That tiny top that teases at her chest size. Those short-shorts that show off a nice ass. Those long legs that make him want to run a hand up just for a feel. Slut.
She hates it whenever he's too close. For whatever reason that he's so near that she can feel the warmth radiating off of him and she feels that the slightest of touches will shatter their defenses and everything around them.
He hates it whenever she's too close. For whatever reason that she's so near that all the wrong reasoning comes to mind and temptations arise and he feels he just has to get out of there before it's too late. Before he shatters them both.
But most of all they hate their relationship. The punk and the queen bee. Two horrid things coming together in a sure to be catastrophe. Their very own version of a tsunami meeting a tornado.
Their hateful words. Their mean jeers. Their hurtful banter. Their fierce ridicule. Their constant mocking. The sneers, the scoffs, the taunts, the hate.
The hate that's always there. But somehow…always limited.
They know where the line is. Both make sure to never cross it.
They want it to hurt, not to kill.
A sick twist of pushing the other away whilst at the same time trying to keep them close.
Something that leaves their relationship tainted and unusual.
It's the only way they know to express themselves to one another.
It's all the relationship they have.
Heather hates Duncan. Duncan hates Heather. Plain and simple.
Hate is all they know.
In the end hate is all they've got.
~FIN~
Reviews are love!
