Endless Love

by writhinghood

Because their hate was like the black black mascara that ran down the surface of his pale pale face and it became love like the sun.

"I hate the Doctor," Master growled as if he were a cheetah, which he really wasn't but he growled as if he were. Rodyle, his arms laden with what seemed like an endless amount of cakes, was passing by and his twitchy long ears caught it. "I hate Kvar," he sighed, for he had an enormous hickey in the center of his face. "Let us hate together," the Master suggested, and soon they lived happily together in a land of endless cake.