Novel & Cerita Haïr Pour Aimer

The same hand that had driven him to treat her with such disdain. As Hailee looked upon his tear-streaked face, a faint flicker of understanding stirred within her. The knowledge of his upbringing and the weight of his father's influence began to thaw the icy hatred that had consumed her. She could see the torment etched into his features—the wounds inflicted by a complicated past. And though vengeance still burned within her, she found herself torn between her desire for retribution and a newfound, albeit reluctant, empathy.

I said acidly. “Have you ever considered.” He leaned along the edge of the table to put his elbow near me. Resting his cheek on it. “How close love and hate really are.” “They’re opposites.” “Yet you can’t have one without the other.” He countered in that sing song purr he seemed to have mastered. “If you love someone, you must know moments of true hatred for the power they have over you. True anger for the pain they’ve put you through. To truly hate someone, you had to have had genuine affection for them at some point, or you’d not care about them rather then feel hatred.”

Hatred is one of those emotions that arises when a person loaths you. You despise that person to the point that even the most insignificant actions on their part infuriate you. That person is my father. I abhor him. I am appalled by his brazenness and how he interacts with others. Simply say, I despise him. A part of me wants to love him so badly that I often think about the times in the past when we had a healthy relationship. Still, those happy days never seem to come to my mind anymore because of how cruel he is.

Il y a un problème entre Chulpéric et toi? Je vous trouve bizarre tous les deux. - Problème ? S'il y a un problème alors c'est lui qui doit avoir le problème sinon que je n'ai rien contre lui. - Marinette : Chérie tu dis vrai ? Nous lui avons demandé et il nous a tout dit. Vois tu l'amour est un sentiment qui vient on ne sait d'où. Ne soit pas dur avec lui. Les sentiments peuvent te venir avec le temps. Donne lui une chance avec toi.

I say, huffing out a laugh. “Well, then, maybe that’s better than nothing,” he says. “What does that mean?” I ask, turning to frown at him. “Have you heard the saying, ‘there’s a fine line between love and hate and the opposite of both is indifference’?” “No. Is that some stupid human shit?” Jax chuckles. “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t truth in it. If she hates you, it means she’s not indifferent to you. If she was, then I’d say that maybe your mate bond is as non-existent to her as it is with Iniko.”

I gloss over the details of our conversation at breakfast though. “I dunno, he’s just so confusing. It’s like, one minute, he hates me and the next minute he- he-” “Can’t keep his hands off of you?” She supplies. “Kind of, yeah,” I reply, blushing. “Well, Vi, you know what they say: there’s a thin line between love and hate.” I let out a chuckle and say, “That’s taking it a little far.” “Sure, whatever you say. So what are you going to do about it?”

"And tell me about her parents." "Her dad is a middle-class businessman and her mother is a homemaker." "Any siblings she has?" "Yes. One jealous elder sister Eleanor who hates her beyond anyone's imagination." "Why is that?" "Because she believes that Elina took everything from her including their parents' love soon after she came in the world even Eleanor's ex-fiance also adores and supports Elina more than the cause of her kindness."

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Tears stream down her face, but they are tears of anger, not sadness. I let her go and smile, dark and twisted. “You hate me?” I ask, kneeling on the mattress between her legs. “Yes, Cassian. I hate you. You shattered my fantasy of a happy life, and now you're doing it again! I really hate you, and you can’t believe with how much passion!” “Fine! Hating me is okay. After all, there is only a thin line between love and hate.” I whisper dangerously close to her lips. She spits on my lips, and I don't flinch. Instead, I kiss her firmly.